Monday, July 30, 2007
Her hands
I woke this morning thinking of my grandmother, of her hands, of my first memories of her - some of my first memories at all. I have no bad memories of her, only ones of her hands, with their sweet loving touch, always ready to rub my back, or do the dishes, whatever the moment called for. F has her sweet smile, with it's two versions: one like Mona Lisa, secretive, playful, the other a full-on, square, happy thing. Grandma never withheld her love from me and always made me feel like her "favorite". What a special gift, to make another feel like the center of the universe. I hope I can get there before she's gone...
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Lost
What a small town. The lady who cut my hair today - turns out she is going to be F's teacher in Pre-K next month. Cute girl. F will like her.
I went for the cut and "brighten up" because I needed a serious lift. We've been here 4 1/2 weeks now, and I am in a total funk. I didn't know you could hit your mid-life crisis at 33. I hear the words I say to the only other adult here that I get to talk to (lucky J.M.), and I realize that I have turned into that person I never could tolerate before. You know, the one who wonders "who am I, really?" and "what do I like - what is my purpose". Wah. It's embarrassing to even admit it, that those thoughts and words creep through me. But I do feel like I have lost myself somewhere along the way. I have no interests - there is nothing that makes me interesting. I have no identity, no individuality - I am only someone else's something. Sometimes I feel like such an imposter, like I am only a mirror of who I am around. Why do I have to flow like water, moving around the firmly grounded things in front of me? Why can't I see only black and white. It's always, "yeah, I see your point, that's true". Where are the big kahunas I used to posess, that gave me such a strong will and conviction - such a survivor's determination? And then there's the guilt from feeling these things when I have so much to be thankful for. How could I ask for more? How could I ask for this ambiguous, vague "more"ness, and not even know what it is I want? There is so much I don't know. Doesn't God want me to do great things for Him, in His name? Didn't I used to think that I was destined for that?
Where's that girl? Where'd she go? And are all the things she attracted into this life that is now - are they going to go away too, in search for her, and leave me here all alone with myself, whoever that is...
I went for the cut and "brighten up" because I needed a serious lift. We've been here 4 1/2 weeks now, and I am in a total funk. I didn't know you could hit your mid-life crisis at 33. I hear the words I say to the only other adult here that I get to talk to (lucky J.M.), and I realize that I have turned into that person I never could tolerate before. You know, the one who wonders "who am I, really?" and "what do I like - what is my purpose". Wah. It's embarrassing to even admit it, that those thoughts and words creep through me. But I do feel like I have lost myself somewhere along the way. I have no interests - there is nothing that makes me interesting. I have no identity, no individuality - I am only someone else's something. Sometimes I feel like such an imposter, like I am only a mirror of who I am around. Why do I have to flow like water, moving around the firmly grounded things in front of me? Why can't I see only black and white. It's always, "yeah, I see your point, that's true". Where are the big kahunas I used to posess, that gave me such a strong will and conviction - such a survivor's determination? And then there's the guilt from feeling these things when I have so much to be thankful for. How could I ask for more? How could I ask for this ambiguous, vague "more"ness, and not even know what it is I want? There is so much I don't know. Doesn't God want me to do great things for Him, in His name? Didn't I used to think that I was destined for that?
Where's that girl? Where'd she go? And are all the things she attracted into this life that is now - are they going to go away too, in search for her, and leave me here all alone with myself, whoever that is...
Saturday, July 7, 2007
Cowboys
In the car today-
SJ: If they're called COWboys, why do they ride HORSES?
JM: Because their job is to herd cows.
SJ: Why do they have to HURT the cows, Daddy!!!!!!?
(Mean ol' cowboys, teehee)
She's out to rid the world of all injustice to all things living!
SJ: If they're called COWboys, why do they ride HORSES?
JM: Because their job is to herd cows.
SJ: Why do they have to HURT the cows, Daddy!!!!!!?
(Mean ol' cowboys, teehee)
She's out to rid the world of all injustice to all things living!
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Funky Dinnertable
Tonight at the table over spaghetti, F starts a perfect rendition:
F: "We want the funk, gotta have that funk, OW, we need the funk, gotta have that funk, OW"
M: "FUNK!!!"
...and the noodles are flying.
F: "We want the funk, gotta have that funk, OW, we need the funk, gotta have that funk, OW"
M: "FUNK!!!"
...and the noodles are flying.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Blizzards and woodchips
We found that F's 2nd day of camp was quite an adventure, as she was "initiated" by the other kids, and gladly, passed the test. Too bad the test involved pulling down one's panties on the playground and letting the other 4 year old campers put wood chips in your behiney crack. The original trick (it started a few weeks ago, before F entered the picture) was running up behind your friend, pulling their pants and undies away from their body, and throwing a handful of woodchips in there. Miss Tammy, the teacher, thought she had them all broken of it, but no, F's arrival proved to conjure up old fond memories of fun times past in the seasoned campers' minds, and F was more than willing to help them out, being the kindhearted giver that she is...
So of course, what better topic for dinner conversation this evening, right? Daddy was trying to make sure F understood that's not something we do and why, but that it was somewhat normal as we fought a similar battle with SJ showing her panties at school at this age, at which time SJ chimes in with her most mature manner stating, "oh, it happened every day"! Like she had been just as frustrated with the situation she was in way-back-when as we were. It was hard to hold it together at this point for me, so F found an opportunity to change the subject - she moved on to the "blizzard" she got on her foot from her shoes rubbing the wrong way, and promptly flopped her gray-brown bottomed foot up onto the table to show us. I guess "How to be a Lady 101" was an utter failure for today, but I have the feeling there will plenty more occassion for that lesson to be revisited.
So of course, what better topic for dinner conversation this evening, right? Daddy was trying to make sure F understood that's not something we do and why, but that it was somewhat normal as we fought a similar battle with SJ showing her panties at school at this age, at which time SJ chimes in with her most mature manner stating, "oh, it happened every day"! Like she had been just as frustrated with the situation she was in way-back-when as we were. It was hard to hold it together at this point for me, so F found an opportunity to change the subject - she moved on to the "blizzard" she got on her foot from her shoes rubbing the wrong way, and promptly flopped her gray-brown bottomed foot up onto the table to show us. I guess "How to be a Lady 101" was an utter failure for today, but I have the feeling there will plenty more occassion for that lesson to be revisited.
Friday, June 22, 2007
So Dahlonega is not so bad...some of it. We have not only entered the "civilian world" but have had to adapt to its pace - on a small-town mountain people scale. This is not a typical military town - with Camp Merrill home to only a little over 200 soldiers. But I have heard from many that the pace will be just as slow for J.M.'s work. He said today that Monday will be a normal duty day (done around lunchtime). So now we've gone from not seeing each other at all, and barely emailing to "don't you need to go to work or something?" Thank goodness the new house has enough yard to keep all of us busy.
What a beautiful river - perfectly clear and shallow over the round, smooth rocks on the sides, with a fast, deeper center. All the rocks and small rapids make it a loud river, too - I love that. I put my feet in it for the first time this evening, walking far enough toward the center to see a clearer view up-and down-river than what I can get from our higher bank - I swear with the sun setting and the trees and foothills, it looked very unreal. The water wasn't even cold! The temps here have been surprising to me - not into the eighties till after lunch, cool in the shade, nice breeze. I don't know if it took us two whole afternoons to put the kids' swing together because of the difficulty of the work, or the enjoyment of the backyard while doing it!
The girls have had to really embrace the whole "built in best friend" thing since getting here, as there are no kids living nearby to play with (not something they're used to), and are doing the typical sister love/hate thing, but it was so peaceful to watch them play together tonight on the balance beams that are now my flower bed borders, making up adventures, and chasing the millions of fireflies all over the backyard.
SJ is so big and responsible, still concerned for the "little ones" being able to play in a backyard that ends in a river, helping M to slide by himself tonight, and cheering him on. She lectured F last night about how we should all be thankful for what we have..."some kids don't have a Mommy and Daddy, or a house, or food to eat, and they have to eat out of the trash, F! You're all about a trampoline, when Mommy and Daddy have just spent two hundred and fifty hundred dollars on our swing - be thankful."
F says thanks for the swing... lately she is fixated on dying (not wanting to, that is). I think it's because SJ approached me a couple weeks back, concerned, saying she didn't want me to die. I told SJ I wasn't going to die for a very long time yet, and she said "but Mom, you're already in your THIRTIES!!!!" F even cries when she thinks about it. Also, she cries when she thinks about how it will hurt when she has a baby one day. And she cries at 4 in the afternoon everyday, no matter what, just so we know what time it is. And she cries when the wind doesn't blow just right, if you ask J.M. I told him tonight we need to just accept that she is emotional, and not try to make her feel bad for being who she is (what a Mom thing to say) because he keeps saying "we've just got to stop that".
M still likes his sleep. He has his first black eye due to the steps in the house. He tried to break bad on me tonight during the decomposing that is called "time for bed". He stuck his pudgy 2-year-old finger with its black dirt under the fingernail out at me, the tears streaking the film of dust on his face and screamed "no no!!!!" I have no idea what he was telling me no for, I had just walked up, but he meant it! That proceeded on to a "running in place" fit. Probably shouldn't have laughed, but I did.
The swing me and Christie (neighbor-turned-dear-friend-against-my-will at Fort Benning) used to swing on daily, drinking wine and speaking our own language, is now down by the river, visited at least once daily, but with a twinge of sadness for missing her. It probably won't enjoy hearing the same "juice" in these next two years as it did in the past 6 months! But maybe the absence of conversation mixed with the constant small-rapids river noise has its own story to share...
What a beautiful river - perfectly clear and shallow over the round, smooth rocks on the sides, with a fast, deeper center. All the rocks and small rapids make it a loud river, too - I love that. I put my feet in it for the first time this evening, walking far enough toward the center to see a clearer view up-and down-river than what I can get from our higher bank - I swear with the sun setting and the trees and foothills, it looked very unreal. The water wasn't even cold! The temps here have been surprising to me - not into the eighties till after lunch, cool in the shade, nice breeze. I don't know if it took us two whole afternoons to put the kids' swing together because of the difficulty of the work, or the enjoyment of the backyard while doing it!
The girls have had to really embrace the whole "built in best friend" thing since getting here, as there are no kids living nearby to play with (not something they're used to), and are doing the typical sister love/hate thing, but it was so peaceful to watch them play together tonight on the balance beams that are now my flower bed borders, making up adventures, and chasing the millions of fireflies all over the backyard.
SJ is so big and responsible, still concerned for the "little ones" being able to play in a backyard that ends in a river, helping M to slide by himself tonight, and cheering him on. She lectured F last night about how we should all be thankful for what we have..."some kids don't have a Mommy and Daddy, or a house, or food to eat, and they have to eat out of the trash, F! You're all about a trampoline, when Mommy and Daddy have just spent two hundred and fifty hundred dollars on our swing - be thankful."
F says thanks for the swing... lately she is fixated on dying (not wanting to, that is). I think it's because SJ approached me a couple weeks back, concerned, saying she didn't want me to die. I told SJ I wasn't going to die for a very long time yet, and she said "but Mom, you're already in your THIRTIES!!!!" F even cries when she thinks about it. Also, she cries when she thinks about how it will hurt when she has a baby one day. And she cries at 4 in the afternoon everyday, no matter what, just so we know what time it is. And she cries when the wind doesn't blow just right, if you ask J.M. I told him tonight we need to just accept that she is emotional, and not try to make her feel bad for being who she is (what a Mom thing to say) because he keeps saying "we've just got to stop that".
M still likes his sleep. He has his first black eye due to the steps in the house. He tried to break bad on me tonight during the decomposing that is called "time for bed". He stuck his pudgy 2-year-old finger with its black dirt under the fingernail out at me, the tears streaking the film of dust on his face and screamed "no no!!!!" I have no idea what he was telling me no for, I had just walked up, but he meant it! That proceeded on to a "running in place" fit. Probably shouldn't have laughed, but I did.
The swing me and Christie (neighbor-turned-dear-friend-against-my-will at Fort Benning) used to swing on daily, drinking wine and speaking our own language, is now down by the river, visited at least once daily, but with a twinge of sadness for missing her. It probably won't enjoy hearing the same "juice" in these next two years as it did in the past 6 months! But maybe the absence of conversation mixed with the constant small-rapids river noise has its own story to share...
Thursday, June 7, 2007
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