Before and after--This is a shot of me in April and one from today. . .getting closer and closer to goal!
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Photos
Lately I only seem to be posting when a special event occurs, which means that J. doesn't get his picture on here much! (Not that he isn't special--just that he is still young enough to mainly be a spectator and not the star!) So, today when I was taking pics of R's mouth, he walked up and stuck his face in the camera and said "Cheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeese!" Guilt immediately engulfed me. . .here he is!
Before and after--This is a shot of me in April and one from today. . .getting closer and closer to goal!
Before and after--This is a shot of me in April and one from today. . .getting closer and closer to goal!
Soccer
Well, I finally got some photos of a soccer game. They are not very close up, because I refuse to be one of the MANIAC parents who paces up and down the field with the kids and yells at them the whole time. SERIOUSLY--there are people on the field called coaches! They volunteered--get the hell out of their way. If you want to be in charge, sign up to coach a team. Some parents (one of whom shall remain nameless but lives in the same house as me, and is not me) seem to want to give their kid all kinds of instruction the day of the game, and yet, never take a random evening after dinner to kick the ball around and go over some drills. . .hmmmm. . .I think that practice time and game day are the coach's time. Parents should stay in their little fold out lawn chairs and limit their comments to things like "Good job, Johnny! Way to go!" Nobody cares what I think. . .
Anyway--They have great coaches. They strike just the right balance of emphasizing learning skills and remembering that they are still little kids that don't need to be harped on like professionals. I really like them. All of the kids on the team are improving each week, and I think it is because the coaches make the game fun and exciting and they want to do better each game.
N. is getting really good. He has always been good at defense, but he was a little timid on offense. He would wait for them ball to come to him, and he would just kick it away--like he didn't want the responsibility of handling it. Now, he will go after the ball anytime. He has also gotten good at maneuvering himself to an open position so his teammates can pass to him.
He's great at goalie. S. was pretty excited when N. decided he wanted to play goalie. He had never pushed him to play goalie. I don't think he ever even mentioned it, except in conversation that included all of the positions. He didn't want N. to choose something just because he liked it. But, when he decided to try out for goalie, S. was pretty happy. And then when he turned out to be good at it, S. was really happy! He is not scared to jump on the ball--even with all those kids feet flying at him. Of course, it makes me very nervous. Not that he will get hurt, but that the ball will get passed him and he will be crushed that they scored on him! He has been scored on once, but he has saved dozens of shots!
Today was a really good game. They played really hard and worked well together as a team. They didn't win, but I don't think they really noticed that much. Their coach does a great job of emphasizing to them how well they did and how they are improving, so they go away from the field feeling good about themselves. (And, of course, there are alway snacks--win or lose!)
Supernumery Tooth Surgery
On Thursday, R. had his mouth surgery to remove his extra tooth. It was up where his permanent teeth are and was making the two right front teeth turn completely sideways.
First, let me tell you that we had a consultation at the military hospital oral surgery clinic in August. This would have made the surgery free, but my gut just told me not to do it there. First, the doctor was a resident. He never introduced himself, but seemed intent on not letting me know that he was a student. He kept saying "I need to consult with my staff. . ." After about the 10th time I wanted to scream "Do you mean you need to ask your teacher because you don't know the answer?!" I understand that everyone has to learn sometime, but I like medical professionals who are willing to say "I don't know the answer. I'm going to find out." Then I know that they are aware of their own limitations and willing to work within them. I don't need some cowboy with a scapel getting near my kid's mouth.
After consulting with "his staff" he concluded that due to R's age (and the fact that I was barraging him with questions) he had decided that they would do general anesthesia in the operating room and intubate him. He also said that permanent damage could be done to the nerve in R's mouth and to the permanent teeth. He ALSO said we could always wait a few years, because his permanent teeth won't be coming in for at least 3 years.
The next day he talked to S. on the phone and S. asked him a list of questions I had made. One was how many times have you done this surgery. The answer "A couple, but my collegue (read teacher) has done a few more." What the HELL does that mean? Several? Three? Whatever. . .you aren't getting your hands on my kid. I know everyone has to be a student, but find another practice dummy. He told S. that they determined that it was too dangerous to do the surgery because of R's age and we should wait until he was at least 5--remember this later. . .it's important.
After these phone calls, I called the civilian guy that the dentist had referred us to orginally. He was the Chief of Oral Surgery at the military hospital before he retired, and has been in private practice a LONG time. He's done this literally 1000's of times. He had done 2 the day I called. I asked him a lot of questions about what I should do. He had actually suggested that I try the military hospital first, since I hadn't thought of it. Anyway--he said it would probably be fine to go to the military hospital because the attending surgeon would keep a close eye on the resident. I decided to go to him instead. So that brings us to Thursday.
We got there at 8am. They put some cream stuff on R's arm to numb it so he wouldn't feel the IV. In about 10 minutes I carried him to the room for the surgery. They put laughing gas on his nose for a few minutes. I was supposed to leave at that point, but I decided to stay until they got the IV in. I was talking to R. and keeping him occupied so he wouldn't notice what was going on with his arm. I'm glad I stayed, because it took 30 minutes to get the IV needle in a vein. The doctor is VERY GOOD, but he's just small and his veins are hard to get to. They tried at his elbow, then they put some numbing stuff on his hand and started checking his other arm while the cream had time to work.
They eventually went back to the orginal arm and used his hand. The numbing stuff combined with the gas must work, because he never noticed what they were doing. Even when they said "You're going to feel a pinch." He didn't feel it. At one point, I looked at his arm and it was a scary blotchy purple color from the tourniquet being on so long. That brought tears to my eyes, so I quit looking at it.
Once the IV was running, they got set to put the sleep medicine in it. I did not want to leave him there until he was completely asleep, but I wished I hadn't watched him fall asleep. He was very groggy from the gas, but all of a sudden his head rolled sideways, and his eyes were still open and they rolled back. I didn't like it. I wish I hadn't seen that. I keep seeing it over and over. Even though I know it is normal and that is what is supposed to happen. I just didn't like it.
So--I went back to the waiting room, called and checked on J. who was with my friend. I read one article in a magazine and in less than 20 minutes they came and told us that they were putting in the last stitches. The whole surgery was quicker than the IV! They said they would move him to the recovery area (right behind the reception desk) and we could go back there. A few minutes later I heard him crying and I jumped up. I was already going to the door when she opened it to get us. She told me to get my stuff, but I just kept walking past her and left S. to get the purse and stuff. A nurse was between R. and I and she said "He isn't in pain, he's just confused by the anesthesia." I said "Fine, but move! If he's confused OR in pain, he needs me!" So, I went around the corner and he was laying in a bed and the doctor was standing over him rubbing his hair back off of his forehead and talking to him.
He was a little confused, but mostly he didn't like that the roof of his mouth was numb. He kept sticking his finger in his mouth to scratch it. Finally, I convinced him to suck his thumb and I wrapped him in a blanket and sat down with him. Everyone in the office was running around getting him toys, offering him a ride in the wheelchair, whatever they could think of to get him to stop crying. This child had every woman in that office charmed! The receptionist (who also happens to be the doctor's wife) has already decided which granddaughter she wants him to marry!
The were all so great. This doctor is just absolutely GREAT! He put the stitches between R's teeth (remember he's still small so there are still spaces between his teeth) so that food doesn't bother them. Other than the fact that there are 3 black strings in his mouth, you can't tell anything happened. No blood, no swelling, no bruises--nothing! This guy explained every single step to R. at the consultation and again at the actually surgery day. He was just so good with him. I think being a parent changes you forever, but so does being a grandparent. It was very touching to me to walk into that recovery area and see him leaning over brushing R's forehead with his hand. It just seems more telling even that the quality of the surgery or anything else.
He told us that within a couple of hours, R. would be up and running and playing. He was right! As soon as the numbness wore off, he was his old self. He is on a regular schedule of motrin, and all is well!
Oh--here's the thing. . .the doctor said that the surgery was a little more complicated that he had thought it would be (how quick would it have been if it hadn't had the complication? It was only 20 minutes anyway!) He said that the tooth had shifted a little in the 2 weeks since the xrays, and that it was not just a little tooth chip. It was a whole tooth, it had roots and it was growing. If we had waited 2 years, it would have tripled in size, and totally destroyed his permanent teeth. They would never have come in, because the supernumery tooth would have grown completely through them and the bone. . .(Always listen to your inner voice!)
The two permanent teeth will stay sideways. We will have to put braces on him pretty quickly after they come in, but other than that, there should be no issues. BECAUSE WE TOOK CARE OF IT THIS SOON!
So, today we got a HANDWRITTEN note from the doctor thanking us for trusting our child to him and telling R. that he was the best patient he ever had--even better than adult patients because anyone else would have been getting upset with the IV thing. He even thanked me for staying and helping R. stay calm! What a great guy! I love him!
We go back in a little over a week to have the stitches removed. Oh--we left the tooth out for the tooth fairy. It was a really weird looking tooth. It looked like a molar, instead of 4 sides, with 4 points on the bottom, it had 3 sides with 3 points on the bottom. And, one of the points was longer than the other 2--really weird. Anyway--the tooth fairy left 3 dollars. When R. woke up Friday morning, he hadn't had any Motrin for about 10 hours, so his mouth was sore. He handled this by crying and saying "I didn't want dollars! I wanted pennies!" Do you suppose he will EVER say that again?
First, let me tell you that we had a consultation at the military hospital oral surgery clinic in August. This would have made the surgery free, but my gut just told me not to do it there. First, the doctor was a resident. He never introduced himself, but seemed intent on not letting me know that he was a student. He kept saying "I need to consult with my staff. . ." After about the 10th time I wanted to scream "Do you mean you need to ask your teacher because you don't know the answer?!" I understand that everyone has to learn sometime, but I like medical professionals who are willing to say "I don't know the answer. I'm going to find out." Then I know that they are aware of their own limitations and willing to work within them. I don't need some cowboy with a scapel getting near my kid's mouth.
After consulting with "his staff" he concluded that due to R's age (and the fact that I was barraging him with questions) he had decided that they would do general anesthesia in the operating room and intubate him. He also said that permanent damage could be done to the nerve in R's mouth and to the permanent teeth. He ALSO said we could always wait a few years, because his permanent teeth won't be coming in for at least 3 years.
The next day he talked to S. on the phone and S. asked him a list of questions I had made. One was how many times have you done this surgery. The answer "A couple, but my collegue (read teacher) has done a few more." What the HELL does that mean? Several? Three? Whatever. . .you aren't getting your hands on my kid. I know everyone has to be a student, but find another practice dummy. He told S. that they determined that it was too dangerous to do the surgery because of R's age and we should wait until he was at least 5--remember this later. . .it's important.
After these phone calls, I called the civilian guy that the dentist had referred us to orginally. He was the Chief of Oral Surgery at the military hospital before he retired, and has been in private practice a LONG time. He's done this literally 1000's of times. He had done 2 the day I called. I asked him a lot of questions about what I should do. He had actually suggested that I try the military hospital first, since I hadn't thought of it. Anyway--he said it would probably be fine to go to the military hospital because the attending surgeon would keep a close eye on the resident. I decided to go to him instead. So that brings us to Thursday.
We got there at 8am. They put some cream stuff on R's arm to numb it so he wouldn't feel the IV. In about 10 minutes I carried him to the room for the surgery. They put laughing gas on his nose for a few minutes. I was supposed to leave at that point, but I decided to stay until they got the IV in. I was talking to R. and keeping him occupied so he wouldn't notice what was going on with his arm. I'm glad I stayed, because it took 30 minutes to get the IV needle in a vein. The doctor is VERY GOOD, but he's just small and his veins are hard to get to. They tried at his elbow, then they put some numbing stuff on his hand and started checking his other arm while the cream had time to work.
They eventually went back to the orginal arm and used his hand. The numbing stuff combined with the gas must work, because he never noticed what they were doing. Even when they said "You're going to feel a pinch." He didn't feel it. At one point, I looked at his arm and it was a scary blotchy purple color from the tourniquet being on so long. That brought tears to my eyes, so I quit looking at it.
Once the IV was running, they got set to put the sleep medicine in it. I did not want to leave him there until he was completely asleep, but I wished I hadn't watched him fall asleep. He was very groggy from the gas, but all of a sudden his head rolled sideways, and his eyes were still open and they rolled back. I didn't like it. I wish I hadn't seen that. I keep seeing it over and over. Even though I know it is normal and that is what is supposed to happen. I just didn't like it.
So--I went back to the waiting room, called and checked on J. who was with my friend. I read one article in a magazine and in less than 20 minutes they came and told us that they were putting in the last stitches. The whole surgery was quicker than the IV! They said they would move him to the recovery area (right behind the reception desk) and we could go back there. A few minutes later I heard him crying and I jumped up. I was already going to the door when she opened it to get us. She told me to get my stuff, but I just kept walking past her and left S. to get the purse and stuff. A nurse was between R. and I and she said "He isn't in pain, he's just confused by the anesthesia." I said "Fine, but move! If he's confused OR in pain, he needs me!" So, I went around the corner and he was laying in a bed and the doctor was standing over him rubbing his hair back off of his forehead and talking to him.
He was a little confused, but mostly he didn't like that the roof of his mouth was numb. He kept sticking his finger in his mouth to scratch it. Finally, I convinced him to suck his thumb and I wrapped him in a blanket and sat down with him. Everyone in the office was running around getting him toys, offering him a ride in the wheelchair, whatever they could think of to get him to stop crying. This child had every woman in that office charmed! The receptionist (who also happens to be the doctor's wife) has already decided which granddaughter she wants him to marry!
The were all so great. This doctor is just absolutely GREAT! He put the stitches between R's teeth (remember he's still small so there are still spaces between his teeth) so that food doesn't bother them. Other than the fact that there are 3 black strings in his mouth, you can't tell anything happened. No blood, no swelling, no bruises--nothing! This guy explained every single step to R. at the consultation and again at the actually surgery day. He was just so good with him. I think being a parent changes you forever, but so does being a grandparent. It was very touching to me to walk into that recovery area and see him leaning over brushing R's forehead with his hand. It just seems more telling even that the quality of the surgery or anything else.
He told us that within a couple of hours, R. would be up and running and playing. He was right! As soon as the numbness wore off, he was his old self. He is on a regular schedule of motrin, and all is well!
Oh--here's the thing. . .the doctor said that the surgery was a little more complicated that he had thought it would be (how quick would it have been if it hadn't had the complication? It was only 20 minutes anyway!) He said that the tooth had shifted a little in the 2 weeks since the xrays, and that it was not just a little tooth chip. It was a whole tooth, it had roots and it was growing. If we had waited 2 years, it would have tripled in size, and totally destroyed his permanent teeth. They would never have come in, because the supernumery tooth would have grown completely through them and the bone. . .(Always listen to your inner voice!)
The two permanent teeth will stay sideways. We will have to put braces on him pretty quickly after they come in, but other than that, there should be no issues. BECAUSE WE TOOK CARE OF IT THIS SOON!
So, today we got a HANDWRITTEN note from the doctor thanking us for trusting our child to him and telling R. that he was the best patient he ever had--even better than adult patients because anyone else would have been getting upset with the IV thing. He even thanked me for staying and helping R. stay calm! What a great guy! I love him!
We go back in a little over a week to have the stitches removed. Oh--we left the tooth out for the tooth fairy. It was a really weird looking tooth. It looked like a molar, instead of 4 sides, with 4 points on the bottom, it had 3 sides with 3 points on the bottom. And, one of the points was longer than the other 2--really weird. Anyway--the tooth fairy left 3 dollars. When R. woke up Friday morning, he hadn't had any Motrin for about 10 hours, so his mouth was sore. He handled this by crying and saying "I didn't want dollars! I wanted pennies!" Do you suppose he will EVER say that again?
Sunday, September 24, 2006
The Weekend
Well, I forgot to take the camera to the soccer field. Here's why. First of all--the game is at 8am so we have to be there at 7:30. We only live a few blocks away, and the good news is that there is still parking available that early, but still--it's early. Secondly, my kids dawdle. There's no other word for it. They just wander around the house like they have no where to be at any particular time. They get it from their father. It makes me nuts.
Anyway--we leave for the field and here is what we take with us: 2 soccer balls; 1 pair goalie gloves; 4 bottles of water; 2 packages of crackers; 2 packages of gummy fruit snacks; 16 juice boxes and 20 Capri Suns and 4 boxes of Little Debbies Brownies (it is our week to bring after game snacks--it is a good thing to bring enough for everyone's little brothers and sisters); 5 jackets; 1 pair of shoes that J. refuses to wear; 4 pairs of sunglasses; 1 pair of cleats; 1 pair of shin guards; and N. should be wearing as much of his uniform as I can find--shorts, shirt, socks.
So--I forgot the camera. He played great, but they lost. The kids seem to lose track of the score, so they don't really care much if they win or lose. They are more interested in running through the "tunnel" of parents and seeing what snack they get. Maybe I'll remember the camera next week!
Last night, S. and I went with some friends to the Fleet Week "Star Spangled Salute." This is the business leaders of the city putting on a black tie gala to honor the military. It is EXTREMELY expensive to buy tickets (we heard it was $2000 EACH, but we don't know that for sure) so it is the REALLY top business people in the area. Then the top military people in the area. Then 50 reserved tickets for junior officers (reserved means free). So, we got those. Anyway--originally I thought it was a navy event, and I was interested to see how theirs differed from ours. That's why we got the tickets in the first place. We found out later how it really was set up, but decided it would be fun to dress up and go anyway.
We had a pretty good time. We didn't dance, but we both met VERY interesting people. I may have found a connection to a potential job. I met the woman who planned the event (and is handling several of the other fleet week things). She has an event planning company that she runs from home and she hires people to work on a project basis! Anyway--it sounds promising--so keep your fingers crossed for me!
S. met a guy who is retired Army and is now the President of the Navy League here. (I think--I may have that title or organization wrong) Anyway--he was really nice, and had to come talk to us, because S. was the only one in an Army uniform in the room. We also met a retired marine who is the director of fleet week. He was really interesting to talk to and very nice. He and S. had several things to talk about, and I think S. may help him find out more about some local Army soldiers that the city can recognize with awards or whatever. Anyway--it was a nice night.
So. . .here is a picture. It is not a great one, we were rushing out the door, but it gives you some idea of how the weight loss program is going. I still have a ways to go, but I am down 4 sizes and I don't even remember how many inches! S. has lost quite a bit too. His blues jacket was REALLY loose!
Anyway--we leave for the field and here is what we take with us: 2 soccer balls; 1 pair goalie gloves; 4 bottles of water; 2 packages of crackers; 2 packages of gummy fruit snacks; 16 juice boxes and 20 Capri Suns and 4 boxes of Little Debbies Brownies (it is our week to bring after game snacks--it is a good thing to bring enough for everyone's little brothers and sisters); 5 jackets; 1 pair of shoes that J. refuses to wear; 4 pairs of sunglasses; 1 pair of cleats; 1 pair of shin guards; and N. should be wearing as much of his uniform as I can find--shorts, shirt, socks.
So--I forgot the camera. He played great, but they lost. The kids seem to lose track of the score, so they don't really care much if they win or lose. They are more interested in running through the "tunnel" of parents and seeing what snack they get. Maybe I'll remember the camera next week!
Last night, S. and I went with some friends to the Fleet Week "Star Spangled Salute." This is the business leaders of the city putting on a black tie gala to honor the military. It is EXTREMELY expensive to buy tickets (we heard it was $2000 EACH, but we don't know that for sure) so it is the REALLY top business people in the area. Then the top military people in the area. Then 50 reserved tickets for junior officers (reserved means free). So, we got those. Anyway--originally I thought it was a navy event, and I was interested to see how theirs differed from ours. That's why we got the tickets in the first place. We found out later how it really was set up, but decided it would be fun to dress up and go anyway.
We had a pretty good time. We didn't dance, but we both met VERY interesting people. I may have found a connection to a potential job. I met the woman who planned the event (and is handling several of the other fleet week things). She has an event planning company that she runs from home and she hires people to work on a project basis! Anyway--it sounds promising--so keep your fingers crossed for me!
S. met a guy who is retired Army and is now the President of the Navy League here. (I think--I may have that title or organization wrong) Anyway--he was really nice, and had to come talk to us, because S. was the only one in an Army uniform in the room. We also met a retired marine who is the director of fleet week. He was really interesting to talk to and very nice. He and S. had several things to talk about, and I think S. may help him find out more about some local Army soldiers that the city can recognize with awards or whatever. Anyway--it was a nice night.
So. . .here is a picture. It is not a great one, we were rushing out the door, but it gives you some idea of how the weight loss program is going. I still have a ways to go, but I am down 4 sizes and I don't even remember how many inches! S. has lost quite a bit too. His blues jacket was REALLY loose!
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Toby Keith
We went on a real date on Sunday. We went to the Toby Keith concert and had a great time. It was really fun. I didn't take any pictures, but I wish I had, because it was a memorable night. He changed the words as he was singing some of the songs to be about soldiers. Like in "I love this bar" He changed on line to say "We got bad ass soldiers that pull all nighters." I just love how supportive and dedicated he is to the military. At the beginning of the concert he toasted the police, the firemen, the FBI and border patrol, and then the military. At the end, he said good night and left the stage. Of course, everyone knew he would do an encore so we waited about 5 minutes and then he came out and did American Soldier. I cried--as I do everytime I hear that song. They showed video of his trips to visit the troops. Some of the shots were from Camp Monteith from when our guys were there. S. was so excited. He goes--"Hey, that's Kosovo. That's the Big Red One! That's Monteith! I was there--I went to that show!!" The guy sitting next to us said "Really? Hey--thanks!" It was nice.
Of course, he wrapped up the show with Angry American. We all loved it, and at the end he said "God Bless our men and women in the Armed Forces. Fall in love with America, y'all!" And that's how he ended. What a sentiment. Fall in love with America. So--not only is he supportive of our military, but he just loves our country in general. That sounds obvious, but think about it. . .how many people relaly have that thought in their heads or hearts these days?
I will post some pictures in the next couple of days. N. has a soccer game Saturday, and S. and I are going to a very fancy dinner that night. I think I am brave enough to put some photos of myself up. . .we'll see how they turn out. I am still a little way off from my weight loss goal, but there has been a pretty significant change, so I may have the guts. We'll see! I am trying to find a "before" picture, but it turns out that I was pretty good at avoiding photos all together, or at the very least standing with LOTS of people in front of me! I'll try to come up with something!
Of course, he wrapped up the show with Angry American. We all loved it, and at the end he said "God Bless our men and women in the Armed Forces. Fall in love with America, y'all!" And that's how he ended. What a sentiment. Fall in love with America. So--not only is he supportive of our military, but he just loves our country in general. That sounds obvious, but think about it. . .how many people relaly have that thought in their heads or hearts these days?
I will post some pictures in the next couple of days. N. has a soccer game Saturday, and S. and I are going to a very fancy dinner that night. I think I am brave enough to put some photos of myself up. . .we'll see how they turn out. I am still a little way off from my weight loss goal, but there has been a pretty significant change, so I may have the guts. We'll see! I am trying to find a "before" picture, but it turns out that I was pretty good at avoiding photos all together, or at the very least standing with LOTS of people in front of me! I'll try to come up with something!
Monday, September 04, 2006
Who Cares?
I grew up in a small town, and went to the same school all 13 years. I made friends in kindergarten, and for the most part, we were all still together at graduation. Some new kids came in throughout the years, and that was fine, because I was secure and comfortable in my lifelong spot. I never realized that I didn't know how to make friends. I was GREAT at making friends! A new kid came in, and I was always showing them around, inviting them to stuff, inviting them to sit at my table at lunch (you know how intimidating lunchrooms are in school!) I had no problem making friends.
Then I went to college. Holy crap, what a shocker! I had never BEEN the new kid before. Granted, we were freshmen, so we were all the new kid, but that didn't register to me. All I knew was that everyone else seemed totally comfortable and I was scared to death. The details of the AWFUL homesickness and the craziness I put my parents through are another post--another BOOK--to themselves, but to sum it up, I remember telling my dad "I just wish ONE TIME someone would invite me to eat with them in the cafeteria." I didn't eat one single meal with another person that entire year. My dad kept telling me that there had to be 100 other girls sitting in their rooms wishing the same thing, and I should just go invite THEM to eat. I didn't ever do it.
So, gradually I learned to be comfortable there, and I once in a while would reach out to someone else. Not very often, and my biggest regret about college is that I didn't try harder to make a network of friends. I spent way more time alone than I had to.
Anyway--fast forward. I marry a guy in the Army. We move all the time. Apparently, he and the army are not aware of this aversion I have to being the "New Kid." They decide it is a good idea to do that every few years! FUN FUN! But, as they say, "God has a plan." Perhaps the loneliness of college was meant to prepare me for this life. When I moved to our first duty station--I was completely ready to crawl right back into that hole of "no one to eat with in the cafeteria." I had S, but he was deploying right away--so now what?
Fortunately for me, another new wife, Janet, had already learned, or perhaps was born with, the ability to reach out--even if she was new too. The first time I met her, she invited me to go work out with her at the gym. Instantly, I remembered my dad telling me to go invite someone else to go eat. So--with my dad's words in my ears and the reminder and encouragement of Janet's invitation, I set my mind to reaching out.
I still HATE to be the new kid. Every time we move I am truly truly miserable for several weeks. I think this move may have been the worst so far, but when you keep your eyes open, you find the opportunity to reach out and meet someone. Three weeks after we got here, I met L. when I overheard the kindergarten teacher telling her what to put in the kids' lunches. I immediately marched over and (after apologizing for eavesdropping) basically accosted her, found out she had just moved here (from Dallas, no less) and that she had 4 kids--two of whom are the ages of N. and R! So, we are great friends now. What if I had just kept on feeling sorry for myself and not eavesdropping--I mean looking for opportunities to invite someone to the cafeteria?!
So, now I have been here a few months. I don't feel so new. We know our way around the school, recognize a few faces, and have a few acquaintenances that could potentially be friends someday (maybe.) The other day, L. told me about someone that had just moved into my neighborhood. She said "They live across the street from one of C's (her daughter) friends. They are a navy family, they moved in a couple of weeks ago, and the dad deployed about a week after they got here." I said I wanted to go meet them. She said she would find out their name and my answer was typical military wife--"I don't need to know her name. Just tell me where she lives. I'll ask her name when I get there."
So, today I went over there with brownies. She wasn't home, but her 14 year old daughter was, and when the mom got home from soccer with the younger one, they came down to meet us. I had given her my phone number on a card, and she brought hers to me. We talked for a few minutes about the "culture shock" of moving to southern california, and how awful it is to be the new kid. She said her kids, especially her youngest (who at this point was running around the house with N. like a couple of lunatics) hasn't had any kids to play with and she is so lonely. I knew exactly how she feels. It was dinner time, so they didn't stay long. Just enough time to invite them to come down anytime, and to tell them that the boys would be thrilled to have someone close by to play with, and I wouldn't mind a friend up the street either! (Plus, the older two girls are babysitting age!)
Who cares? Will it make any difference to her that I brought brownies from a box and an index card with my phone number to her front door? Maybe, maybe not. Either way--at least she knows someone's face, has a number she can call if she gets really desperate, and maybe she feels a little less new. I hope it doesn't sound like I am bragging on myself, because it is really quite the opposite. I am proud of the fact that I have FINALLY learned that lesson. I am still sad that I didn't learn it sooner and make better use of my years in school, but now I do look for opportunities to invite someone else to the cafeteria! Special thanks to my dad (who has given me more good advice over the years than I can possibly list) and to the world of the army wife that has reinforced that advice! Now I just have to work on being able to do it when I am still feeling like the "new kid!"
Then I went to college. Holy crap, what a shocker! I had never BEEN the new kid before. Granted, we were freshmen, so we were all the new kid, but that didn't register to me. All I knew was that everyone else seemed totally comfortable and I was scared to death. The details of the AWFUL homesickness and the craziness I put my parents through are another post--another BOOK--to themselves, but to sum it up, I remember telling my dad "I just wish ONE TIME someone would invite me to eat with them in the cafeteria." I didn't eat one single meal with another person that entire year. My dad kept telling me that there had to be 100 other girls sitting in their rooms wishing the same thing, and I should just go invite THEM to eat. I didn't ever do it.
So, gradually I learned to be comfortable there, and I once in a while would reach out to someone else. Not very often, and my biggest regret about college is that I didn't try harder to make a network of friends. I spent way more time alone than I had to.
Anyway--fast forward. I marry a guy in the Army. We move all the time. Apparently, he and the army are not aware of this aversion I have to being the "New Kid." They decide it is a good idea to do that every few years! FUN FUN! But, as they say, "God has a plan." Perhaps the loneliness of college was meant to prepare me for this life. When I moved to our first duty station--I was completely ready to crawl right back into that hole of "no one to eat with in the cafeteria." I had S, but he was deploying right away--so now what?
Fortunately for me, another new wife, Janet, had already learned, or perhaps was born with, the ability to reach out--even if she was new too. The first time I met her, she invited me to go work out with her at the gym. Instantly, I remembered my dad telling me to go invite someone else to go eat. So--with my dad's words in my ears and the reminder and encouragement of Janet's invitation, I set my mind to reaching out.
I still HATE to be the new kid. Every time we move I am truly truly miserable for several weeks. I think this move may have been the worst so far, but when you keep your eyes open, you find the opportunity to reach out and meet someone. Three weeks after we got here, I met L. when I overheard the kindergarten teacher telling her what to put in the kids' lunches. I immediately marched over and (after apologizing for eavesdropping) basically accosted her, found out she had just moved here (from Dallas, no less) and that she had 4 kids--two of whom are the ages of N. and R! So, we are great friends now. What if I had just kept on feeling sorry for myself and not eavesdropping--I mean looking for opportunities to invite someone to the cafeteria?!
So, now I have been here a few months. I don't feel so new. We know our way around the school, recognize a few faces, and have a few acquaintenances that could potentially be friends someday (maybe.) The other day, L. told me about someone that had just moved into my neighborhood. She said "They live across the street from one of C's (her daughter) friends. They are a navy family, they moved in a couple of weeks ago, and the dad deployed about a week after they got here." I said I wanted to go meet them. She said she would find out their name and my answer was typical military wife--"I don't need to know her name. Just tell me where she lives. I'll ask her name when I get there."
So, today I went over there with brownies. She wasn't home, but her 14 year old daughter was, and when the mom got home from soccer with the younger one, they came down to meet us. I had given her my phone number on a card, and she brought hers to me. We talked for a few minutes about the "culture shock" of moving to southern california, and how awful it is to be the new kid. She said her kids, especially her youngest (who at this point was running around the house with N. like a couple of lunatics) hasn't had any kids to play with and she is so lonely. I knew exactly how she feels. It was dinner time, so they didn't stay long. Just enough time to invite them to come down anytime, and to tell them that the boys would be thrilled to have someone close by to play with, and I wouldn't mind a friend up the street either! (Plus, the older two girls are babysitting age!)
Who cares? Will it make any difference to her that I brought brownies from a box and an index card with my phone number to her front door? Maybe, maybe not. Either way--at least she knows someone's face, has a number she can call if she gets really desperate, and maybe she feels a little less new. I hope it doesn't sound like I am bragging on myself, because it is really quite the opposite. I am proud of the fact that I have FINALLY learned that lesson. I am still sad that I didn't learn it sooner and make better use of my years in school, but now I do look for opportunities to invite someone else to the cafeteria! Special thanks to my dad (who has given me more good advice over the years than I can possibly list) and to the world of the army wife that has reinforced that advice! Now I just have to work on being able to do it when I am still feeling like the "new kid!"
Legoland
My Theta little sister and her family were in town on vacation for the Labor Day Holiday weekend. (Are her kids my Theta niece and nephew??) On Sunday, we went with them to Legoland. It is an amusement park that is about 30 minutes from our house. We all had a fun, very full day. We got there when the park opened at 10--and we didn't leave until 5:45!! J. made it until 5 without falling asleep--amazing! He slept all the way home, and still went to bed ok!
The only problem was that J. and R. were too small to ride most of the rides, and they were MAD about it. Neither of them has any fear, and they would have ridden anything we'd have put them on. It was hot, but not miserably hot, so everyone had a good time.
At the pirate show
N. at the "driving school." It is so cool! It has stop lights, street signs, etc. He was so funny sitting at the red lights. He yelled at a kid that almost went past him--"Hey--stop on red!"
R. on the "joust" ride--it seems that kid can find horses anywhere! Maybe if his plans to be a cowboy when he grows up don't work out, he could be a knight!
N. and his shadow for the day! (My Theta niece!)
The younger boys (R. and my Theta Nephew) in the Junior Driving School! It is a "racetrack" that R. managed to make it around about 1 1/2 times--driving is not quite as easy as he thought it would be!
Afterwards, we had dinner at our house from NY Giant Pizza. It is the craziest thing! the pizza is 48 inches across!! You have to turn the box sideways to get it through the door of the house. I wish I would have thought to take a picture of it. With 4 adults and 5 hungry kids, we still didn't eat half of it!
It was really nice to see our friends. One of the things that is hard about the army is that you don't ever have "old" friends nearby. New friends are great, but sometimes it is nice to be able to sit and talk with people you've known for a long time. I was fortunate to have that in the last place we lived, both because we were there for so long (long in Army terms!) and because we went through so much together, it felt like we had known each other a long time.
Anyway--since we don't have the ability to go over to grandparents house just for dinner, or whatever, it is always SO nice to have people come visit us. It kind of gives us the feeling of "home," even if the visitors aren't actually blood relatives! So--come one, come all! We love company--give me 24 hours notice to change the sheets and you're welcome here anytime!
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