Catching Up

Several things have happened lately that I wanted to write about, but time has sort of been hard to come by, so I haven't done it. I'm going to put them all in this post as a sort of mishmash!

First, Father's Day weekend. We left here on Thursday and drove across the desert to Vegas to S.'s family's house. His little sister was graduating from high school. Yes, there are a lot of years between the two of them, but the WEIRDER part is that when S. and I first met and we drove to Vegas at the end of the school year, we took her to her PRESCHOOL graduation! Isn't that amazing! We've known each other a long time. I don't know why, but that makes it feel longer than saying we met when I was 19. I guess because I don't admit to myself how long ago age 19 was! She is the baby of the family so all the kids are done with high school!!

It was a great trip! Probably the best one we've ever taken there. Because of the graduation party, we got to see a lot of family all at one time, instead of running around like crazy the whole weekend trying to get everyone. It was REALLY hot--106 degrees everyday, which was difficult for my little Bavarian/Southern Californian children to understand. It was hot when we woke up, it was hot when we went to bed, and the middle of the day was OUTRAGEOUS! We did get to swim a lot though, so that made everything ok!

I tried a long time ago to take pictures of everyone to make a family tree for the boys, but it didn't ever get finished. This summer, it will happen. We went to the graduation, which ended up a "reunion" of sorts, so I got photos of all the aunts and uncles and grandparents there. I'll do the same at both of my family reunions in a couple of weeks! I just have to get a pic of S's grandfather who was out of town, and find a time to hook up with the sisters from "up north" again so I can get their pics! Here are some of the photos from Vegas:

Grandma & Grandpa

Our niece, S.

Uncle R.

Uncle S. (who is famous throughout our culdesac because he came to visit on Spring Break and gave N. a skateboard!!)

Aunt L. after changing out of cap and gown!

Uncle M. (I had a pic of him with his girlfriend, but they both had their eyes closed. . have to redo that one!)

Great Grandma (S's mom's mom)Grandpa R.

When we left, N. suddenly was quite whiny and angry with his brothers. I couldn't figure out what was wrong, until I went in the back of the van to fix something for him, and looked at his face. When I asked him what was wrong he said "I'm just tired!" But I could hear it in his voice. . .I said "You're not tired! You're sad. Are you sad because we are leaving?" Suddenly he burst into tears and said yes. He is such a tenderhearted kid. And he loves people so much. He had a great time when we were there, and really got to know everyone. He already pretty much worshipped Uncle S--perfect age for childhood idol. . .college student, snowboarder, lifeguard, etc. N. also developed a special bond with Uncle R. . .I'm not sure what it was, but he really feels a connection to him.

Anyway--we talked about how it is ALWAYS ok to be sad if you feel sad. I told him that I used to cry every time we left my grandparents' house--and I knew that I would see them again in a couple of weeks! We decided that the drive was NOT too hard to do, and we need to go visit more often while we are still here. So, that made him feel a little better. It again reminded me of how everything in your life happens for a reason. I ALWAYS have a hard time with goodbyes (as some of you know. . .since when we move I just suddenly disappear without saying goodbye!) and I was actually proud of myself that I recognized it in him and (I think) handle it in a way that was constructive for him. I am glad that I didn't just keep saying "Stop yelling at your brothers." Anyway--I don't mean to brag on myself, it's just that sometimes I feel like I can't get anything right, and this time I think I did something positive! So. . .

We left on Sunday and headed back here. Now, on the way there it took us 5 1/2 hours. The way back was NOT the same. Apparently, that's a pretty common route for Southern Californians. I knew a lot of them went to Vegas, but I didn't know that the entire poplulation of this part of the state went every weekend! Even on the traffic reports they would say "It's Sunday, so it's going home day! Lots of traffic on I15. . ." Anyway--we went approximately 1/2 the speed we did on the way there! So. . .that made it take a lot more time. At one point, we were literally sitting in stop and go traffic like you would during rush hour after a work day!

It was at that point that we decided to say yes to the kids' request to go to Calico! They had seen the signs for it on the way to Vegas, and had been begging to go on the way home all weekend. They were asleep when the sign said we were 12 miles from Calico. About 55 minutes later, we got to the exit, and although they were still asleep, I decided that they had napped long enough and that they would be miserable the rest of the trip if we didn't give them some time out of the car.

So--Calico. It is a "ghost town." It was a silver mining town that was abandoned, and eventually bought by Walter Knott (of Knott's Berry Farm) and restored. He thought it was a great way to preserve part of American history. He paid for all the restoration, including an artist to read and study the information and create a design for the town so it would look as close as possible to the real thing. Most of the living conditions were pretty bad, because the miners didn't intend to stay long, so they had some creative ways of making "houses." Some of them just propped boards against a cutout in the mountain! (They mostly didn't bring families with them!!) The stores and stuff like that were more "permanent" since the business people were the "long term" residents!

One of the things that Calico was most proud of was the fact that they didn't have the "Wild West" atmosphere of a lot of the boom towns. They didn't have a lot of trouble, and there were "only two murders in the town's entire history (19 years)." They didn't tolerate trouble--they nipped it in the bud!

There was only 1 resident of Calico still alive when they started the restoration. Her name was Lucy Bell Lane. She was born in Greenville, TX and her family moved to Calico when she was a baby. She married a guy who ran the general store, and they lived across the street from it. Her house is one of the few structures that didn't have to be rebuilt after a big earthquake in 1997, and it is the town's museum now. It was really interesting to see pictures of her that were taken in that house!

It made me pretty sad, though, because you could tell that they don't have as much money as they used to. Almost all of the buildings were locked, with glass windows on the doors so you could see in. I think they used to have people working as role players there, and you could go in and see and touch everything. I love stuff like that. I don't care much for reading about history, but I love to be able to walk around and see it all. It made me sad that you couldn't do that anymore.

The Knott family gave the town to the county, and it is now a park. They have a few caretakers and workers that live there, and there is a "gunfight" several times a day, but those are the only permanent residents of Calico. It has to be hard to get anyone to live there--it is literally in the middle of nowhere in the Mojave Desert! Pretty isolated! R. and J. were scared of the noise of the gunfight, so they didn't stick around. . .they dragged Daddy off to look for a candy store. . .

The sheriff won the gunfight (of course). He is a good sheriff--he has three rules: 1) No spittin' in the streets. 2) No drinkin' whiskey in the streets 3) No firin' yer gun in the streets. This fella broke all 3--and then he tried to fight the sheriff. . . The "bad guy" is actually the head caretaker of Calico (his official title is "Sheriff".) He gave the boys little nuggets of "gold." They are prized possessions now!

They also have the "mystery spot" there. Those of you who remember from Germany the "See ya down the road at the next exit" PSAs with those kids visiting the mystery spot? That's in Calico. Water runs uphill, brooms stand upright, you don't have to use your hands to hold on to a ladder, and it is easier to walk "uphill" in the house than downhill. It is pretty easy to figure out, but not easy to explain to kids, so our boys were quite amazed!!! This particular guide was not very enthusiastic about his job, if you judge by his monotone voice. He was also not very good at getting the broom to stand up. . . The school had to be rebuilt, and was built at approximately 2/3 of its original size. This is it behind us. Mostly the students were children of the merchants, since the miners didn't bring families. Lucy went to school here. It is on a hill up behind the town--across a pretty rickety footbridge! At one point, there were 40 students! The last teacher was buried in the Calico cemetary. (We didn't go to it, as it was getting late, but maybe next time!)
I'm not sure why I felt a need to tell the whole story of the town (actually, I didn't--there was also the mine--some guys LIVED in it for 20 years, and the hotel, and the train, and the way they got water. . .) But, like I said, history is fun for me when I can actually walk around and see stuff. That's one of the things I liked about Europe.

So, we then got back on the road. We were off for about 2 hours, and traffic didn't move much. In about 3o minutes we caught back up with an 18 wheeler that we had been next to before we exited. . .Since the drive was taking longer than we thought, and we stopped--that meant we weren't home for dinner like I expected us to be. So, we had to stop again and have something to eat. That took another 1 1/2 hours. It did break up the trip, though, so it wasn't all that bad. Other than a little crying from J. all the traveling went quite well. It took 10 hours to get home, so hopefully next time we'll do a better job of planning--but all in all--a good trip.

I know I said there were several things I wanted to write about, but I took so much time on Calico, that I've forgotten the other stuff. Which doesn't really matter, because J. is standing next to me crying to get some "peanbutter my bread" so I must go. . . maybe I'll remember the rest while I make the sandwich!

25 Years Later!

I am writing this without the use of contacts or glasses. For the first time in 25 years, I can see without them. Amazing, really. I couldn't believe the surgery went that quick. The doctor was outstanding. He has done over 15,000 of them, so I trusted him. It went really quick. It wasn't totally what I expected. I didn't expect the suction thing to hurt as much as it did, and I didn't expect the bright white lights. It made me think I was going to sneeze. (Good thing S. has good vision--he always sneezes in bright light. . .if he tried to have the surgery, the laser might go across his face! Just kidding. . .if you move, it turns the laser off!)

It was also weird when they said "Look at the red light" and I could barely see it. . .it got clearer as the laser went on, and I could see little black dots forming around it. . .was that where the laser was hitting? Who knows. . .Anyway--I had the "latest and greatest" surgery. Instead of forming the flap with a blade, they used a laser. Then a second laser did the actual reshaping. Pretty cool because when they used the blade for the flap, I wasn't a candidate. My corneas were too thin to trust a human hand to make the flap. But, with the laser, my corneas were double the thickness they needed for accuracy.

I was a little freaked out at first, because everyone had told me I would be able to see as soon as I sat up. When I sat up, I couldn't really see! Everything was really cloudy and fuzzy. I could see the clock on the wall, and I could tell there were numbers on it, but I couldn't see the numbers. On the way home, I couldn't read street signs or license plates. I was afraid it didn't work. But, when the surgeon said "Can you see?" and I said "Ummm. . .kinda." He said "Whatever you are seeing is exactly where you should be in the recovery process because your surgery went perfect. Beautiful flaps, excellent reshaping. . .it is perfect."

They kept saying that my eyes would be really irritated for about 8 hours. Well, I don't think those people have ever had someone wrong with their eyes, because the "irritation" was nothing! It started to hurt about the time we got home, as the numbing stuff wore off, so I just put in my drops and went to sleep. I only slept for 2 hours, and when I woke up, I didn't feel anything. Once in a while it felt like a little hair was in the right corner of my right eye, but that's it! Maybe I have a high pain tolerance, or maybe other people's eyes hurt worse than mine, or maybe they just give you the worst case scenario. . .or maybe they're all a bunch of whiny babies! ha ha!

I have to wear these REALLY attractive goggles to sleep in--that's very funny. I wear them for a week. I have to put 2 different drops in my eyes 4 times a day for a week. That's all. Other than that, no big deal. This morning, I see pretty well. My vision is a little "off" but I don't really know how to describe it. Not fuzzy or blurry. Maybe a little "double." Just by a fraction of an inch. Kind of makes the outlines of stuff a little hazy, but I can still see everything. It reminds me of when you have your eyes dialated, and it is starting to wear off.

Oh, I also have ruptured blood vessels in both eyes. I'm not surprised, since that has happened to me before (when I had N. . .the snooty nurse asked me if I thought I was going to deliver him through my eyes. I said "No, but he's my first baby and I was only in labor for 4 hours. . .seems worth the busted blood vessels to me. . .but I digress. . .)

The surgeon said that the laser is on a different amount of time based on how bad your prescription is, but it averages about 20 seconds per eye. Mine was 1 minute and 3 seconds for the left eye, and 42 seconds for the right. So, my vision is pretty bad. Or WAS pretty bad. I see great now! It is supposed to get better over the next week to month, but even if it stays exactly the same as it is now. . .TOTALLY GREAT!!!

It's Really Going to Happen (I think)

Well, tomorrow is my pre-op appointment. It looks like the Navy really is going to do my LASIK surgery. I try not to get my hopes up with anything until after it happens. . .but this looks like it is going to be real. . .cross your fingers that nothing messes it up (including the surgeon during the actual procedure!!)

New "Birthday" Photos of the Boys!

I try to have the kids' pictures taken every year between their birthdays, but it tends to be closer to N's and further from R & J's. Oh well! At least I am getting around to getting them taken on a semi-regular basis! They were all VERY cooperative--even J, who in general, hates to be told what to do, where to stand, or any other formal instruction! They let him play with a baseball bat (3 of them, actually) and some gloves and it kept him entertained. He is quite focused on baseball these days, and can hit a ball that is pitched to him. He has a bat in his hand at all times--quite a challenging activity for me at times!

I have decided to refer to the children as (in age order) 1. The Surfer 2. The Camera Ham 3. The Baseball Baby (he was going to be "The Hooligan" but I am trying to avoid any negative self-fulfilling prophecies!) Check out these photos and see if you think the names are appropriate!

This is GREAT!

I once posted on this blog that I wondered if I wasn't good enough at BEING a girl for God to let me parent one. I think I was sad when I was musing over that. . .pondering the thoughts of never going to ballet recitals, girl scout sleepovers, braiding hair, painting nails, or being the mother of the bride. Well, now I have one thing to say about it--WHO CARES!!!!

That's right! Being the mother of boys is freakin' fantastic! You wanna know why? Here's why:

Aren't those the COOLEST pictures you've ever seen? Doesn't he LOOK like a major league ball player? I have always loved my kids. . .but these pictures instantly made the vague "baby girl wishes" vanish. It is just so awesome to watch this kid play. He is really good too--he doesn't JUST have the looks. I love jumping up and down and screaming and seeing how far he can run before they can throw the ball in. I love watching him make the throw from the pitcher's mound to first base (dead on aim almost every time).

I almost blew these photos up and sent you all autographed copies! Seriously! He is that good! Now, I hear you laughing and saying to yourself "Self, she is so silly! Such a typical mom of the oldest child. She has no grasp on the reality of 8 year olds playing baseball."

And here is what I say to you----"Jealousy is not pretty! I'm very sorry for you that you are not the mother of the greatest baseball player of the next generation. Too bad for you." But, you know, it IS a team sport. He will not be able to play the game alone, no matter how good he is. And he will need opponents (although they will be CRUSHED AND HUMILIATED). So, perhaps there is hope for your child. But he will NEVER be as good as mine! Ha ha ha ha ha!!!!

Ok, ok, I'm joking. Sort of. Not really. He is truly an amazing athlete. I am still constantly amazed every time he hits the ball. I have still not adjusted to the fact that it is because he knows what he is doing! Not just luck! I still cross my fingers every time he's up to bat. I talk him through every play in the field (not out loud--just sort of mumbling to myself. The other moms from the team think I have multiple personalities, but they like most of them, so it's ok). I keep envisioning the little 4 year old that took 20 practice swings before hitting the ball off the tee and running straight to third base!

Truly. . .there was a reason I was a cheerleader in high school--to prepare me for motherhood. I am LOVING being the cheerleader for my kids! Loving it, I tell ya!!!

And there is something very special about watching your husband coach your son. It is emotional and moving. And actually quite attractive!

So, you will be sorry that you laughed at my enthusiasm when my son's autographed glossy photos are selling on Ebay for hundreds of dollars. You'll say "I should have taken her up on that offer for the autographed picture of him when he was only 8. Instead I laughed at her. . . hmmmm. . .wonder if I can still print that off her blog?" And by then it will be copyrighted by his publicist and even I will have to pay to print it! Ok, now I am going overboard (sort of, not really.)

Baseball season was fun. . .now a brief rest and we begin soccer. . .both oldest kids playing. . .daddy coaching both teams. . .it's gonna be GREAT!

$600 Sunday

So--how did I manage to spend $600 in one hour today? I knocked 2 tires off my car and had to replace them. Yeah. I'm just that good. Really. I don't do anything halfway. I suppose that is technically halfway. I could have found a way to destroy all 4 tires at once, but they all needed to be replaced anyway, so what the hell?
Here's what happened:
Went to church with all 3 boys. Fine. All kids up early, well behaved, ate breakfast, in car on time. Dropped off at Sunday school without tears. Lovely service. Registered 11 children from 5 families for VBS. Picked up my kids, plus a playdate for N. from Sunday school. The plan was to go to Taco Bell for lunch and go home. Well--just as we rounded the corner leaving church--J. started to cry for his milk cup. I reached back to give it to him and WHAM! Up on the curb. Boom boom boom. "Mommy what was that?" It was a tire. Or the tires. Or something. I don't know.
"Mom--what was that? What happened?" Trying to keep my voice calm in front of the child I don't know I said "Please just let me think for one second."
I get out of the car. The back tire has a huge knot that reminds me of the kids foreheads on many occasions of falling off of bicycles or whatever. The front tire is completely flat. I pull the typical Army wife routine. It goes like this: Tears spring to eyes. Hands run through hair. Hands go to hips. Deep breath. Quiet cuss word under breath. Faster now. . .another deep breath. . .hands through hair, pull into ponytail. Chin up--look tire square in the eye (if it had eyes) and say "Understand me tire. I have faced things MUCH more difficult than this. YOU WILL NOT BEAT ME!! If you wanted to beat me, you should have at least flattened 2 of them. I have a spare. HA!!!"

Now, you understand that this bluff is for my own benefit--to fight back the tears--and for the benefit of my children, who cannot see me burst into hysteria, in case they might join me. So, fine here we go. I'll change the damn tire. I'm not helpless. It might take me a while, but I can do it. Except for the fact that I can't get the stupid jack out of the back of the van. It is stuck. I then start to speak to the jack "You can't beat me either!" Children are now giggling at the crazy woman behind their carseats talking to pieces of metal. I am not dissuaded. "I am much stronger than you are . don't let the skirt and heels fool you . . ." Male voice says "Need some help?" I almost simultaneously have a heart attack and wet my pants (neither actually happened, fortunately).

A man is standing there. He has very short hair. He looks like a soldier. I love him for this. I say "I have a flat tire. I know how to change it. But, if you are not in a hurry, I would very much appreciate your help." So, for those of you who think I am stubborn--how's that for learning? 10 years ago I probably would have said "No I don't want your help." But, he's bigger and stronger than me, and probably has more experience at changing tires. He also has a minivan with a wife and kids in the car, so he probably isn't going to hurt me. He also came from the direction of my church. God is shining down on me with a spotlight!!!

So--he says no problem, pops the jack out of the bracket (there's a little spring thing I hadn't noticed YET). Another car pulls up, driver gets out. He is the first guy's best buddy. And his wife has the same van as me. And--she had a flat tire last week!!! She knows how to get the spare out!! (A very cool contraption on the Sienna--let me tell ya!) So--they get it all taken care of, while I go back and forth telling their wives thank you for being willing to stop, etc.

I asked the guys if someone pulls them aside in high school and teaches them to change tires and tells them they should always stop if a woman has a flat and she's alone. At the same time they both say "No, I'd just hope someone would stop for my wife." DO YOU LOVE THAT OR WHAT???????? Love that!! Seriously! I can change a tire. Really, I've done it before, just to prove that I could. But this was so much better than doing it myself in a skirt and heels with 4 boys in the car!!!!

Oh--get this. I was talking to one of the women and she said her husband could never have just driven by a military wife and not stopped. How did he know I was a military wife? She said "He just knew." HOW???? My army sticker is on the back of the car, but the door was open so he couldn't see it. I don't have any yellow ribbons or anything else. What does that mean "He just knew?" I have no idea. I didn't ask her. I guess I was too rattled.

So, they were very worried about me driving on the bubble tire. I said I would go slow and go straight to get a new one. They told me to go to Costco, and if I wasn't a member they would go with me and use their membership--ARE YOU KIDDING ME?????? I am a member. One guy called and they were open and there was not even a wait. We drove away, and they were in front of me. I guess they were really worried the other tire was going to blow, because they ended up going all the way to Costco with me. They turned around in the parking lot and waved goodbye to me.

Can you believe that story? Now really--what I want to do right now is cry--because I had to spend $600 and I don't even have $60, but can you believe all the blessings in this story?

1. It was a beautiful sunny day and we were leaving our church of 7000 people instead of a pouring down rainy night in the middle of nowhere all alone
2. I hit the curb instead of another car.
3. Only 1 tire blew, so the 1 spare was adequate.
4. Amazingly kind people stopped to help me.
5. If the kind people hadn't stopped--my wonderful father taught me how to change a tire before I got my license. He said "I hope you never have to do it. But if you ever need to--you'll be able to." That lesson can be applied to a lot of things--don't you think?

And finally, all the way to Costco, I talked to my kids--3 little boys, growing into men, about why, sometimes, it is the right thing for a man to do something for a woman, just because he is a man and she is a woman. Not because she can't do it. But because it is easier, or safer for him to do it. We also talked about true Christian living. How we had just come from church, and it is great to go and learn about Jesus, and study God's word, but it is more important to go out and live those words everyday. Those guys were our own modern day Good Samaritans. We retold the Good Samaritan story, and even R. remembered most of the details! I was so proud of them. And, of course, as is typical in most brain rattling situations--I have no idea what those people's names were.

I am going to try to send a note through the church bulletin, but for now, I am just reminding myself how important it is to find the blessings in every situation.

As a sidenote--on the way home, with our fresh new tires, we passed what remained of a very bad accident. I wonder what time it happened? I wonder if we hadn't added an extra 45 minutes to our trip, where we would have been at the time that accident took place?

We LOVE LA!

We had SUCH a great time on our trip to LA! I can't wait to go back! There are very few trips I say that about. Usually I am happy that we went somewhere, but I feel like I've seen it, and don't need to see it again. This time, I really do want to go back!

We left early Friday morning, about 7:20am. Our goal was 7:00, so not too late! The C. family got to our house on time, but I was adjusting DVD players and taking out trash, etc. so I made us a little behind. Anyway--we made good time, and only had to stop for one potty break. There was traffic in LA, of course, but not too bad. We got to the park about 20 minutes after they opened.
It was the PERFECT day to be there. The weather was great. It was sunny, but it never got HOT. Warm, but not hot. There were some people there, but we never had to stand still in line. Some of the rides had lines, but they kept moving, and you pretty much just walked right on up to the ride. I think the longest we waited was for 10 minutes at the mummy ride. The kids got their pictures taken with all the latest and greatest characters, and they didn't have to stand in line for that either!

Donkey talks at certain times of day, and when we were there, not that many people had walked up yet. We talked to him for a long time. N. told him we were there to celebrate his birthday so donkey said "I better sing you the birthday song. It goes like this "IT'S THE BIRTHDAY SONG!! IT'S NOT VERY LONG!!!" It was funny! I was trying to take this picture, but J. was a little nervous. You know we all call him by his name twice, so I was saying "J. J., go stand by N. I was saying their full names, but Donkey thought I was calling him JJ. He said "Don't you worry JJ--I'm gonna buy you a vowel!" Of course, L. and I cracked up, but we didn't try to explain the Wheel of Fortune connection--he IS just a donkey you know!!Since it was a week day, they didn't have all the people out selling the stuffed animals, necklaces, etc. on the walkways, plus there were fewer people, so there was a lot of room to manuever the strollers and keep all the kids together. By about 4pm, we had done all but 3 of the rides. We decided not to push our luck, since the kids had been so good all day, so we headed to the hotel to get checked in. We ordered pizza for an early dinner, and we were all in bed by 8:30.

We got up early the next morning, and my kids and I were in the dining room at 6:58 waiting on the breakfast to start at 7am! I know you can't believe it of me, but I was actually up and at 'em that early in the morning--and there wasn't even a flea market involved!! We had a good breakfast--the kids really ate well (I know it is silly for me to comment on that, but sometimes I get so frustrated with them not eating--this trip was really great--even their eating habits were amazing!!)

So--after breakfast we went to Hollywood Blvd. We went to Grauman's Chinese theater and saw the handprints. It was really odd for me to look at them and think of the stories from school that I had heard that went along with all of the early people making their prints.

{Sidenote to friends from Germany: I was taken back to vacations in Europe when L's daughter was trying to take a picture of Judy Garland's prints. She was suddenly engulfed by a swarm of people who took no notice of her and refused to acknowledge standing in a line. Before they opened their mouths I knew they were European. The tour guided started talking and I had to walk away to keep from yelling or laughing at them!!)

We walked down the Walk of Fame for a while and saw a few names we recognized. I think it is funny that our kids don't really understand why the TV stars names have "boxes with little lines sticking out of them" under their names--they don't know what antennaes are!! We saw Bob Hope and Big Bird and Tim McGraw and Marilyn Monroe. We also saw tons of people that we didn't recognize, which makes me wonder if it devalues the star a little. There were also some stars with no names on them. Some of them are cracked already. Wouldn't that suck if you were given a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame and you got one that was already damaged??

I took a picture of Fred Thomson's star, just in case he gets elected President. There was also a special place in my heart for Vanna White's star!!!

Then we started looking for stars with parts of our names in them. We covered up the other part of the name and took our pictures on them. Silly--yes, but fun--you bet!!!

Most of the people we've met who've lived in Southern California their whole lives have never been to Hollywood Blvd. I know it is a cheesy tourist spot, but things become tourist spots for a reason. I think the Army has given me the gift of being very aware of the specialness of my surroundings. I don't get the luxury of saying "it will always be there." Because it won't. One year from now I will live on the other side of the country--or in a different one, and I won't have the chance to go to Hollywood Blvd. if I want to. My mission is to see and do as much as I can in every place we go. I want to know and appreciate as much of my country as I can. I love being able to say "Oh yeah--I've been there. I've seen that. It's great."

So--back to the trip. We ate lunch at Burger King one block off of Hollywood Blvd. It was FULL of crazy homeless people. Truly. It was frightening and dirty. That was not very fun. We left quickly.

We went from there back to Universal Studios. This time, it was in full holiday weekend mode. There were mobs of people and lines everywhere. But, since we only had a few things we wanted to do, we didn't have that sense of rush or urgency--so we were still able to have a good time. We went to the Waterworld show and the Studio Tour, which were the only things we hadn't done the day before. N. wanted to go to the House of Horrors, but we didn't have time. It turns out that it was OK, because L and her girls went after we left and they left halfway through because it was too scary!

I actually got teary eyed during the backlot tour. I couldn't believe it. I would never have expected it!! I didn't realize that I missed TV/movie production at all, but I saw that first set and it hit me. I wanted to jump out of that tram and take off running. I would love to spend days just wandering around. I would LOVE to work in the prop department of a big movie studio. A person can always dream, right?

The set of Desperate Housewives was really cool. The set of War of the Worlds was very disturbing. The set of Psycho is still there. Still creepy. Even in the daylight.

So, after that we headed home. There was a lot of traffic, so it took about 3 1/2 hours to go 150 miles, but it was an uneventful, relatively pleasant drive. The kids were exhausted and slept all but the last 15 minutes. I had packed food for them, so they ate dinner when they woke up, got out of the car and played with the neighbors, and then fell into bed.

All in all, a great time!!!

The Beautiful Boy

My friend has 3 little girls. It is pretty fun comparing notes on the differences in our houses--hers filled with dolls, mine with sports equipment. She has tons of hair clips, I have lots of baseball caps. Anyway--we trade babysitting a lot. Yesterday, the girls were letting me play with their hair (I love to french braid and no one around here lets me do it! At least in Germany all the neighborhood girls came over in the evenings and brought their brushes and ponytail holders!) Well, J. decided he needed a "pony." It was hilarious! I am sure that his daddy will just be THRILLED with these photos--but that's what he gets for leaving! Ha ha!

Continuation

Another moving video for Memorial Day. . .this was made by a 15 year old girl. . .
http://www.youtube.com/p.swf?video_id=ervaMPt4Ha0&eurl=&iurl=http%3A//img.youtube.com/vi/ervaMPt4Ha0/2.jpg&t=OEgsToPDskJdgc9nZKM7h4c80xhHpoKx&autoplay=1

and now. . .some comic relief from the heaviness of the last 2 posts. I don't mean any disrespect, but sometimes everyone needs to laugh:

The Service
One Sunday morning, the pastor noticed little Alex standing in the foyer of the church staring up at a large plaque. It was covered with names with small American flags mounted on either side of it. The seven year old had been staring at the plaque for some time, so the pastor walked up, stood beside the little boy, and said quietly, Good morning Alex."

"Good morning Pastor," he replied, still focused on the plaque. "Pastor, what is this?" he asked.

The pastor said, "Well, son, it's a memorial to all the young men and women who died in the service."

Soberly, they just stood together, staring at the large plaque. Finally, little Alex's voice, barely audible and trembling with fear, asked, "Which service, the 8:30 or the 10:45?"

So, What then?

If not "Celebration"? What then? What do we do on Memorial Day? Yes, we should remember, reflect, thank God, thank our fallen heroes. . .but what do we say to each other? We say "Happy Independence Day!" "Merry Christmas!" All of those things are for celebrations. What should we say on a day so somber? Because we SHOULD say something. I do think we should all mark the time with a moment of silence. Those always seems so powerful--particularly when you are in a large group. But we should SAY something too. We say "Thanks for your service!" on Veterans Day and "We love you Mom!" on Mothers' Day. What do we say on Memorial Day? I don't know.

Maybe I don't know because I have never lost someone very very close to me. A dear friend of mine died when we were 15. That was 18 years ago. It still seems unreal, and she has been gone longer than she was here. That, I suppose, is due to the invincibility of youth. But, I haven't lost a parent, or sibling, or spouse or child. All of my grandparents are even still alive. So, maybe I don't have the right frame of reference to be able to know the right thing to say. I suppose that is because I am thinking of it from the perspective of what we should say to the loved ones of those who have died. That's the only way I CAN think of it. I already know what to say to the ones who actually died. I say it to them every night. I pray--and then after that I talk to them. I say thanks. I think that's all they really want to hear.

What do their loved ones want to hear? I appreciate your sacrifice? I'm sorry for your loss? He was a true hero? All of that is true--but seems hollow. Maybe that is why the moments of silence seem so appropriate. They take the place of all the inadequate words. So, maybe I was wrong at the beginning of this. Maybe we SHOULDN'T say something. Maybe we should just remember. Or maybe we should say "I remember. I won't forget."

One more thing. . .I am more and more angry with the FREAKIN' ads that say "Memorial Day Celebration Sale." I swear, I am considering starting a boycott or letter writing campaign or something to these places and their advertising companies. What the hell is wrong with Americans? It isn't like it is a secret code! I can understand someone maybe being confused by "Patriots Day" (other than the fact that it happened so recently--so surely most people haven't forgotten already). But, really--Memorial Day? That's hard to understand? Memorial? Is there any connotation to that word that generates "celebration" as an appropriate behavior? I think not.

I will now stop ranting and search the internet for all definitions of the word Memorial. If any of them are somehow celebratory--I will let you know. If not, please pass on to anyone AND ESPECIALLY ANY BUSINESS that you encounter that MEMORIAL DAY is a time to remember and reflect. Yes--I am aware that I have said these words multiple times in this post and the last. I don't care. Send me to Del Rio. (Only my TCU journalism professor--and perhaps my husband if he can still remember--get that reference!)


STUPID AMERICAN HERITAGE DICTIONARY: Ok, there is one definition that refers to memorial with the word celebration in it:
Something, such as a monument or holiday, intended to celebrate or honor the
memory of a person or an event
That does not lessen my anger at all, and if I weren't so tired I would probably continue my tirade on how Americans should be smart enough to know WHAT kind of MEMORIAL the DAY actually refers to. But, it is 10:59 pm, and for me--that is basically the same as pulling an all nighter. Good night.

It is a MEMORIAL not a Celebration

I don't know if you listen to country music or not. I don't know if you support the war, the president, etc. or not. I don't know if you like Tim McGraw or his politics or not. But, since it is almost Memorial Day, I'd like you to listen to this song:

This is Tim performing at the Country Music Awards Show:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u3bc7mdkyTw

This is the music video version:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C-o9aCoeGoI&mode=related&search=

Tim is actually a pretty liberal guy--he doesn't fall lock step into whatever line the administration is advocating at all times. I don't know how he feels about our being in Iraq, I just know how he feels about soldiers. And their families.

My soldier isn't going to be home this Memorial Day, but I'm lucky that he's just gone for a few days--it just happens to fall on Memorial Day. There are a lot of my friends who's husbands are gone for 6 months--and a lot of my friends who's husbands are gone for 15 months.

And--there are several of my friends who's husbands are gone forever. Tim's song is about them. And Memorial Day is about them.

We have lots of days for celebrating--4th of July, etc--even Veterans Day. But Memorial Day is not supposed to be about celebration (I can't tell you how angry it makes me to see advertisements for "Memorial Day Celebration Sales!") It is supposed to be a day to reflect, remember, and say thank you to those who gave their lives in defense of our freedom.

Often we refer to that as "the ultimate sacrifice." I am, of course, biased--but, I think there is one sacrifice a little greater. The sacrifice made by those left behind. The families--particularly spouses and children--of soldiers killed in battle make the ultimate sacrifice. They have to live with the pain of it from now on. Remember them and those they are missing on Memorial Day.

It's not just an extra day off of work---think about those who died to give you that day off.

Their families remember every day. Their brothers in arms remember every day. We should all remember every day. But especially Memorial Day.

Photos of N

N got a new haircut recently. The girls at school LOVE it. He looks very Southern California teenage surfer. I love it too. I am surprised at myself, being from small town Texas and married to an Army guy--but I do like letting them have longer hair. Of course, Daddy is not thrilled, but he has relented to my theory that if we let them make choices on things that are not life or death--at age appropriate times, of course--then when we do tell them no about something, they will know we have a reason (other than "because I'm the parent and that's the way I want it!") Also, I feel like they have to learn to make decisions at some point. We either let them practice now, under our guidance, or we mandate everything in their lives until they go to college, and then they get there and have no idea how to do anything! He has relented, mostly because he tires of hearing me talk. . .

Anyway--the second photo is before the haircut, at Around the World Day at school. He is wearing lederhosen I got at a flea market in Germany!! I'm so glad they fit this year, because I know that next year he will REFUSE to wear them! It is cute, though!

Visit from the Cousins

I am quite behind, because of all the crazy running and going over the last few weeks, but since soccer season ended today (sadness for R!) I have a little more time to catch up. Now that it has aired, I will write my whole Wheel of Fortune experience in a few days. Right now, I only have a few minutes, and I am supposed to be doing some research for my new "job".

Anyway--I wanted to post these photos of a few weekends ago when my sisters came down with their kids. It was so much fun. They didn't get to stay long at all, but I loved having them here. i don't think people who live near family realize how meaningful it is to just get to sit and talk to someone who shares a history with you. . .you can be close or not, talk frequently or not, but still--there is a special thing about someone who knows you from a long time back (or who's known you a short time, but squeezed a lot of living into that time!)

So--the kids were just so thrilled to have their cousins here. They love them so much and they all got along so well!!! We tried to sneak them all into a closet, so their moms would leave them here, but they noticed, and put them in the car anyway!! Maybe next time!! (Some were more thrilled about the idea of the photos than others!!)

Precious Baby!

Everything is busy and chaotic around here--end of season soccer party, teacher appreciation day, sea world field trip, weight watchers employee training, s. getting ready for TDY trip, etc. So, typical days, but not much time to write. Here is a new photo of my niece and nephew. . .aren't they beautiful!

Don't forget that this Friday is my big TV day!

Army Wives

There are certain weeks for me that are more emotional (read: hormonal) than others. This is one of them. I got this email today and, of course, cried. All of my army sisters--I miss you and love you. I'm thinking of you today. . .especially P. who's next deployment is days away. . .remember this is the worst part. The day after they leave it starts getting better.

There is only one thing in the world harder than being a soldier--and that's loving one. I love you guys!

LETTER FROM CIVILIAN WIFE TO A MILITARY WIFE....

Dear Military Wife,

I am an American woman that has no idea what is going on in the military other than what I hear on the news. I have never had to let go of someone so that they could go fight for people that they didn't know, people that sometimes do not appreciate or understand what they are fighting for.

I have never had a sleepless night of worry because of a report that another bomb has exploded and I still haven't heard from my husband.

I have never had to wait for months on end to hold the one that I loved so.I have never had to tell my children that daddy wasn't coming home tonight because he was so far away fighting for something that they aren't yet old enough to understand.

I have never had to hold my head high and suppress the tears as I hear that it will be at least another six months of separation before my loved one gets to come home.

I have never had to deal with a holiday away from the one that I thought I would share every day of my life with. And I have never had to feel the panic rising in my heart at the sound of a ringing phone or knock at the door for fear that it is the news that everyone is terrified of getting.

For the reasons listed above, I can not tell you that I understand how you feel. I can not tell you that you must be strong. I can not say that you shouldn't be angry, because you "knew what you were getting into when you married a military man". I can not say these things because I have never had to walk in your shoes.

What I can say for certain is that because of your unselfish acts of bravery and your husbands willingness to stand up for those who see him as "just another soldier" - - I will never have to walk in your shoes. I do understand that as a military wife you are expected to uphold a certain amount of control, but I never understood how you could do it, until now.

I have figured out that you are not like other women. You are of a special breed. You have a strength within you that holds life together in the darkest of hours, a strength of which I will never possess. The faith you have is what makes you stand out in a crowd; it makes you glow with emotion and swell with pride at the mention of The United States of America.

You are a special lady, a wonderful partner and a glorious American. I have more respect for your husband than I could ever tell you, but until recently I never thought much about those that the soldier leaves at home during deployment. Until this moment I could never put into words exactly what America meant to me. Until this moment, I had no real reason to.... Until I heard of you.

Your husband and his military family hold this nation close, safe from those who wish to hurt us...but you and those like you are the backbone of the American family. You keep the wheels in motion and the hearts alive while most would just break completely down. Military families make this nation what it is today. You give us all hope and you emit a warming light at the end of a long dark tunnel.

Because of you and your family...I am able to be me. I am able to have my family. I am able to walk free in this great land. Because of you and your family, I can look ahead to the future with the knowledge that life is going to be okay. Because of you and your family, I can awake to a new day, everyday.

I realize that you are a stronger person than I will ever be because of these things and I just wanted to take the time today to say thank you to you and your family for allowing me that freedom. I will never be able to repay this debt to you, as it is unmatchable. However, I hope that you know that no matter where you are...what you are doing...what has happened today...or what will happen tomorrow...Your husband will NEVER be "just another soldier" to me.... And you, dear sweet lady, will never be forgotten. You are all in my prayers everyday and I pray that God will bring you back together with your loved one safely.

May God Bless You

To all the "Civilian Wives" out there. . .thanks for your support--whether you wrote this or you just agree with it. One point I'd like to elaborate on further. . .please please ask people not to say "you knew he was in the military when you married him." People complain everyday about things they chose (children who are being bad--you chose to have them; cars that break down--you chose to buy it; yards that have to be mown--you chose to plant grass instead of laying asphalt) My point is that while we sometimes need to express frustration, anger, sadness, etc. it doesn't mean we wouldn't choose it again, given the choice. You wouldn't choose not to have your kids, to do without a car, or to have a front yard of asphalt--we wouldn't choose not to marry our soldiers--sometimes we just need to vent a little pressure so we don't explode. Please support us by lending an ear and a hug!

Encouragment for Stay at Home Moms

If you read my post the other day, you know how frustrated I get with pretty much anyone who isn't (or hasn't been in the past) a stay at home mom. I mentioned how it is the only job where the benefits are delayed by about 20 years. Here is another story that offers a little encouragement for sticking with it (when sometimes you just want to go get a job at McDonald's because at least you'd get a 15 minute break every couple of hours and you could pee without someone sitting in your lap!)

WHEN YOU THOUGHT I WASN'T LOOKING
Written by a former child

A message every adult should read, because children are watching you and doing as you do, not as you say.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you hang my first painting on the refrigerator, and I immediately wanted to paint another one.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you feed a stray cat, and I learned that it was good to be kind to animals.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you make my favorite cake for me and I learned that the little things can be the special things in life.

When you thought I wasn't looking I heard you say a prayer, and I knew there is a God I could always talk to and I learned to trust in God.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you make a meal and take it to a friend who was sick, and I learned that we all have to help take care of each other.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you give of your time and money to help people who had nothing and I learned that those who have something should give to those who don't.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you take care of our house and everyone in it and I learned we have to take care of what we are given.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw how you handled your responsibilities, even when you didn't feel good and I learned that I would have to be responsible when I grow up.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw tears come from your eyes and I learned that sometimes things hurt, but it's all right to cry.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw that you cared and I wanted to be everything that I could be.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I learned most of life's lessons that I need to know to be a good and productive person when I grow up.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I looked at you and wanted to say, "Thanks for all the things I saw when you thought I wasn't looking."

Letter from Ben Stein

I don't know if Ben Stein actually wrote this letter. It has a "published" date on it, but I don't know where it was published. I am putting in on here anyway, because even if it wasn't Ben Stein, SOMEONE felt this way, because SOMEONE wrote it. I think it is a great letter. I know that lots (most) Americans love and respect the military servicemen and women, but it is cool to see it in print. (On a personal note, I actually think Oprah Winfrey does a lot of good in the world. She's no soldier, but she does do a lot of good from her place in the world.)

Dear Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, Marines, National Guard, Reservists, in Iraq, in the Middle East theater, in Afghanistan, in the area near Afghanistan, in any base anywhere in the world, and your families:

Let me tell you about why you guys own about 90 percent of the cojones in the whole world right now and should be damned happy with yourselves and damned proud of who you are.

It was a dazzlingly hot day here in Rancho Mirage today. I did small errands like going to the bank to pay my mortgage, finding a new bed at a price I can afford, practicing driving with my new 5 wood, paying bills for about two hours. I spoke for a long time to a woman who is going through a nasty child custody fight. I got e-mails from a woman who was fired today from her job for not paying attention. I read about multi-billion-dollar mergers in Europe, Asia, and the Mideast. I noticed how overweight I am, for the millionth time. In other words, I did a lot of nothing. Like every other American who is not in the armed forces family, I basically just rearranged the deck chairs on the Titanic in my trivial, self-important, meaningless way.

Above all, I talked to a friend of more than forty-three years who told me he thought his life had no meaning because all he did was count his money. And, friends in the armed forces, this is the story of all of America today. We are doing nothing but treading water while you guys carry on the life or death struggle against worldwide militant Islamic terrorism. Our lives are about nothing: paying bills, going to humdrum jobs, waiting until we can go to sleep and then do it all again. Our most vivid issues are trivia compared with what you do every day, every minute, every second.

Oprah Winfrey talks a lot about "meaning" in life. For her, "meaning" is dieting and then having her photo on the cover of her magazine every single month (surely a new world record for egomania).This is not "meaning." Meaning is doing for others. Meaning is risking your life for others. Meaning is putting your bodies and families' peace of mind on the line to defeat some of the most evil, sick killers the world hasever known. Meaning is leaving the comfort of home to fight to make sure that there still will be a home for your family and for your nation and for free men and women everywhere.

Look, soldiers and Marines and sailors and airmen and Coast Guardsmen, there are eight billion people in this world. The whole fate of this world turns on what you people, 1.4 million, more or less, do every day. The fate of mankind depends on what about 2/100 of one percent of the people in this world do every day -- and you are those people. And joining you is every policeman, fireman, and EMT in the country, also holding back the tide of chaos.

Do you know how important you are? Do you know how indispensable you are? Do you know how humbly grateful any of us who has a head on his shoulders is to you? Do you know that if you never do another thing in your lives, you will always still be heroes? That we could live without Hollywood or Wall Street or the NFL, but we cannot live for a week without you?

We are on our knees to you and we bless and pray for you everymoment. And Oprah Winfrey, if she were a size two, would not have one millionth of your importance, and all of the Wall Street billionaires will never mean what the least of you do, and if Barry Bonds hit ninety home runs it would not mean as much as you going on one patrol or driving one truck to the Baghdad airport.

You are everything to us, as we go through our little days, and you are in the prayers of the nation and of every decent man and woman on the planet. That's who you are and what you mean. I hope you know that.

Love,
Ben Stein

Classification: UNCLASSIFIED
Caveats: NONE

Today's Sports Activities

Both kids had sports at the same time today, so I dropped N. off at his game and took R. to practice. S. was to arrive at the baseball game a few minutes later, so I only worried about N. being there alone (with his coaches and the rest of his team) for about 20 minutes!

J. decided to wear R's cowboy boots to soccer practice. It was cute, although they are about 3 sizes too big for R--so 4 sizes too big for J. We always keep R's cleats in the back of the van, so we put on the socks and shin guards and off we went. Got to practice and guess what. . .no cleats! GREAT! S. took them out of the van after Saturday's game because they were muddy. . .no one told me!!!

Now--here's the really bad part--we were running late for Saturday's game, so we were in a hurry to get in the van. I had a ton of stuff in my hands--shin guards, my shoes, snacks, drinks, diaper bag, etc. We got to the game and guess what. . .yes we had the cleats--we didn't have MY SHOES! I thought I had them, but it was R's cleats in my hands! So, I walked around the game (in squishy mud) barefooted.

Then we get to practice today and I have done the same thing to my son! I tried to talk him into wearing the "street shoes" of one of his team mates, but since they were pink and said "princess" he refused. I told him the only other choice was to go barefooted or go home and he started to hysterically cry. So, I put the cowboy boots on him (over the shin guards--good thing they are so big) and sent him to the field with another mom while I went to the MCX to get him some shoes. There were none there that were $5 or less, which was all I was willing to pay for one practice. So, he finished the whole practice in boots. He was also wearing a flourescent orange penny, which comes to his ankles--so he was quite cute.

We got to N's game about 30 minutes before it was over. Guess what we missed? N hit a GRAND SLAM!!! Can you believe it? S said it was the most amazing hit. I did get to see him hit once and it was good too, but I sure would have loved to see the grand slam. He got the game ball for the evening.

So--that is a basic rundown of everyday of our lives. Not always the same issues (although we seem to be missing shoes a lot) but continuous craziness! I love it!!!!

California

A while back, I posted some comments about living in (or being from) Texas. Now, I have some about California. Like before, I have highlighted the ones that particularly apply around my area.
1. Your coworker has 8 body piercings and none are visible.

2. You make over $300,000 and still can't afford a house.

3. You take a bus and are shocked at two people carrying on a conversation in English.

4. Your child's 3rd-grade teacher has purple hair, a nose ring, and is named Flower.

5. You can't remember . . is pot illegal?

6. You've been to a baby shower that has two mothers and a sperm donor.

7. You have a very strong opinion about where your coffee beans are grown, and you can taste the difference between Sumatran and Ethiopian.

8 You can't remember . . . is pot illegal?

9. A really great parking space can totally move you to tears.

10. Gas costs $1.00 per gallon more than anywhere else in the U.S.

11. Unlike back home, the guy at 8:30 am at Starbucks wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses who looks like George Clooney really IS George Clooney.

12. Your car insurance costs as much as your house payment.

13. You can't remember . . .is pot illegal?

14. It's barely sprinkling rain and there's a report on every news station: "STORM WATCH."

15. You pass an elementary school playground and the children are all busy with their cells or pagers.

16. It's barely sprinkling rain outside, so you leave for work an hour early to avoid all the weather-related accidents.

17. HEY!!!! Is pot illegal????

18. Both you AND your dog have therapists, psychics, personal trainers and cosmetic surgeons.

19. The Terminator is your governor.

20. If you drive illegally, they take your driver's license. If you're here illegally, they want to give you one.

Baby W is here!!!

My brother and sister-in-law (and niece) have a new member of the family! He was born today, April 23 at 12:44 Texas time. He weighs 7 lbs. 7 ozs. and is 20 1/4 inches long!! As you can see, his big sister is very excited to have him here!!!

My Favorite Story

You know how people always say (patronizingly) how "being a stay at home mom is the hardest job in the world." And then they say "I don't know how you do it. I just couldn't. . ." But you can tell by their faces that they are really thinking that you are a lazy bum that doesn't contribute to society and that you are SO LUCKY that you GET to stay home and do nothing all day?

You know how your husband always SAYS how he is so amazed by you and what a great job you do with the kids, but then he comes in the door at the end of the day and makes a face at the fact that there are toys on the floor?

Well, I have a response to that--which is this: When was the last time you mopped the floor at your office? Just because this building contains my job, doesn't mean it is my job. Your office building isn't your job--there's a cleaning service for that. This house isn't my job--the kids are. Get me a cleaning service if it is that important to you. And--while yes, you may have had a long day at work--at least it's freakin' over! Mine started at the same time yours did, and it still has a good 5 hours to go by the time you walk in the door.

My husband (the one who is literally climbing the walls on Sunday afternoon because he has been home for 2 days) said not long ago that "it wouldn't be that hard" for him to stay home with the kids. I absolutely disagree, but obviously that won't ever be tested.

Anyway--this is my favorite story that illustrates what I am talking about when I say "I spend the entire day picking up and cleaning up. It takes 5 hours to clean my house and 20 seconds to make it a disaster area again. That 20 seconds is usually taking place at the same time that I am trying to clean in the first place!"

To all the stay home moms out there--I quote my friend VN--"It is absolutely a full time job. It's just that the benefits are delayed by about 20 years and the pay sucks!"

Here's the story:

A man came home from work and found his three children outside, still in
their pajamas, playing in the mud, with empty food boxes and wrappers
strewn all around the front yard.

The door of his wife's car was open, as was the front door to the house
and there was no sign of the dog. Proceeding into the entry, he found an
even bigger mess. A lamp had been knocked over, and the throw rug was
wadded against one wall. In the front room the TV was loudly blaring a
cartoon channel, and the family room was strewn with toys and various
items of clothing.

In the kitchen, dishes filled the sink, breakfast food was spilled on
the counter, the fridge door was open wide, dog food was spilled on the
floor, a broken glass lay under the table, and a small pile of sand was
spread by the back door. He quickly headed up the stairs, stepping over
toys and more piles of clothes, looking for his wife. He was worried she
might be ill, or that something serious had happened.

He was met with a small trickle of water as it made its way out the
bathroom door. As he peered inside he found wet towels, scummy soap and
more toys strewn over the floor. Miles of toilet paper lay in a heap and
toothpaste had been smeared over the mirror and walls.

As he rushed to the bedroom, he found his wife still curled up in the
bed in her pajamas, reading a novel. She looked up at him, smiled, and
asked how his day went. He looked at her bewildered and asked, "What
happened here today?" She again smiled and answered, "You know every day
when you come home from work and you ask me what in the world I do all
day?"

"Yes," was his incredulous reply.

She answered, "Well, today I didn't do it."

Soccer

R. gets better at soccer each time he is on the field. He really enjoys playing--in fact, yesterday, the battery on my car was dead (a ridiculous story) and he was in a PANIC telling me he HAD to get to practice!

Although I am sure that you think I am biased--the fact is that this kid is SMART. He is the smallest kid on his team, and probably the youngest--but he is one of two who actually understand what is going on. I'm not kidding--the other 8 kids either sit down, try to trip kids running by, pick the ball up and run away with it, or they actually just leave the field. At one point in Saturday's game, the ball (and therefore all 16 kids on the field) came over to our sideline. 3 of the kids on our team kept running--all the way off the field and to their parents to ask for a snack!! Crazy!


Anyway--R. really loves it. He understands the concept of where the ball is supposed to go, and he is starting to understand the concept of working with another member of his team to pass it back and forth to get to the goal. (As opposed to what most kids at this age think of soccer--they are solely responsible for themselves and kick it as many times as possible. It is like having 16 teams on the field!)

The only thing that holds him back is that he is smaller, so therefore not as quick. Several of the kids on his team will turn 6 this summer. That is a year and a half older than him! At this age, that is quite a difference! He doesn't seem to be bothered by it though. I think he makes up for it by knowing where to go. He may not be the fastest, but when the fastest kids are chasing airplanes and picking flowers, he can get to the ball a fair share of times!


He is not afraid of the ball, or of the other kids running into him or over him. He gets right in the middle of the pack and swings his legs around with the rest of them!

His coach says he is amazed by how well R. talks. People are always surprised, because he has the voice of a 4 year old, but the vocabulary of a 14 year old! (I TOLD you he was a genius!!) Anyway--we love the coach too. R. thinks he is the coolest thing ever. He tells his friends at preschool, "My coach is a Marine. He's 19 years old, and he was in high school when I was born!"

Baseball!!

This is a video of the GREAT game that N. played on Saturday! You can see him a lot in the video, because he had so many awesome plays! On the video counter at the bottom right corner--at 2:51 he bats, 2:39-running bases, 1:31 AND 1:26 throwing out 2 batters at first base, and 1:10 a great hit! You can also hear his daddy quite a few times and see him for a second--he coaches 3rd base when we hit, and coaches in the outfield when we're in the field!