Friday, August 29, 2008

Honey/hiney

Just a short Ari story, and then I'll leave you all alone.

I was listening to the "Mamma Mia!" soundtrack on my way to drop Ari at the babysitter's yesterday (before my car died). The first song on the CD is "Honey, Honey" and as the title suggests, the words "honey, honey" are repeated several times. I think it was toward the end of the first listen-through (though it may have been during the 2nd time I played it) that I heard Ari's little voice from the backseat chiming, "Honey, honey." On our way to my parents' house later that evening, she did it again--and she also chanted "Mamma mia" along with the song "Mamma Mia." On the way home from my parents' I made a point of playing "Honey, Honey" again for her, and she sang along. However, when the CD went to the next song, Ari protested. "Honey, honey," she chirped. And when that got no response, she said it a bit more urgently, "Honey, honey!" Oh, I should also mention... the way she pronounces "honey" makes it sound like she's saying "hiney." Which just makes it that much more hilarious.

Oh, you want to hear the song? Here you go... (audio only, no video)...





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Thursday, August 28, 2008

Oh, what a beautiful morning

(More substantial entry below.)

Well, hi there! How is your day going so far? Mine is going great! Wanna see? . . .

6:15 Wake up; feel proud that I am up on time; get ready

6:45 Hear Ari stir; go in her room to get her ready

6:46 Realize that Ari is not in the greatest mood, as evidenced by the incessant whining

6:58:00 Proceed to go out the door, but am stopped by Ari, who refuses to step outside because it's "cooooold"

6:58:10 Get Ari her hoodie and coax her outside

7:00 Get on the road, still feeling proud that I am on time

7:01 Stop at Dunkin Donuts for breakfast, complaining silently about the slow line but knowing that won't stop me from continuing to go there

7:14:00 Prepare to exit highway and notice that there seems to be a lot of white smoke coming out my exhaust. Think, "Huh. That's weird."

7:14:30 Stop at end of exit ramp and notice that car is now surrounded by white smoke, which appears to be billowing out from underneath my car. Glance at temperature gauge and see it is on "H." Think, "This is not good."

7:15:00 Turn right off exit ramp, not even thinking of turning into the gas station that is RIGHT THERE, straight in front of me. Pull off to the side of the road and turn car off, praying that car is not actually on fire.

7:15:30 Am still alive--car has not blown up; call Tony and try not to sound too damsel-in-distress-y as I say, "My car is overheating--what do I do?"

7:16 Finish conversation with Tony (who wonders why I didn't just pull into the gas station); wait patiently for him to come rescue us

7:17 Call babysitter and tell her why I'm running late

7:17 through 7:40 Try to keep Ari entertained, which involves sharing donut with her, pouring her some milk, and handing her various toys which quickly get chucked onto the floor

7:40 Tony calls and tells me he is going to stop at Wal-Mart to buy anti-freeze; tells me if smoke has subsided I should pop hood to help engine cool off

7:41 through 8:05 Continue to entertain Ari, who is not in the mood to sing her ABCs or count to 10 or any of the other fun little things she usually likes to do

8:05 Tony arrives; checks car; discovers that upper radiator hose has a giant crack in it; feel slightly relieved that it was that rather than just me forgetting to check fluids (which often happens)

8:07 Switch cars; bid Tony good-bye with a hug and kiss; Ari whines all the way to Mary's for "Daaaaaddyyyy"

8:10 Call Tony and ask him if he wants me to swing by the ATM and withdraw cash for him (since he doesn't have a debit card right now, since he left it with a friend and hasn't been able to coordinate with that person to get it back); he says yes

8:11 Arrive at Mary's and drop off Ari, who, as usual, is more than ready to bid me good-bye

8:14 Prepare to leave Mary's; call boss to leave message and let her know I'll be late; get cut off in middle of first message and have to call back and leave 2nd message to finish explaining, so that she will know I am alive and unhurt

8:20 Stop at gas station because of course Tony's car is low on gas (as was mine, so I would have had to stop anyway)

8:22 Tony calls and asks me to go to auto parts store nearby to get new hose (why not, right? I'm already ridiculously late); says he's asked Wayne to meet me at the bank to get hose and money and take it all to Tony (who will be getting car towed to nearby mechanic's shop, where he hopes to fix the hose himself, since he knows the people who work there)

8:24:00 Arrive at auto parts store; walk inside while trying to call Tony; phone goes straight to voicemail

8:24:15 Realize I have left purse in car; go outside to retrieve it while still dialing Tony

8:25:20 Walk back inside store only to realize that wallet is still in car because I had taken it out of my purse when I got gas; go back out to car

8:25 Walk into store for the third time; Tony answers phone; gives me instructions on what to ask for

8:26:00 Tell sales associate what I need, feeling proud that I know all the answers to his questions about the car

8:27 Sales associate comes back with hose; asks me if I need clamps; proud feeling dissipates as I realize I don't know about clamps; call Tony

8:28:00 Tell sales associate that yes, I need clamps

8:28:10 Sales associate asks if I want to donate $1 to the Juvenile Diabetes Research foundation; I say yes (have soft spot for JDRF since a childhood friend has it)

8:30 Leave auto parts store to go to bank

8:35 Pull up to drive-up ATM, realize that the thingy you insert the card into is pushed way back into machine; figure this is not a good thing

8:36 Circle around in order to get to the other drive-up ATM (good thing there were 2, huh?); see Wayne pull into parking lot

8:38 Pull away from ATM; ignore ringing phone, knowing it's Wayne

8:39 Give money and parts to Wayne, along with spontaneous thank-you hug

8:40 Pull onto road, headed for highway; pop in "Mamma Mia!" soundtrack, feeling in need of some peppy music

9:20 Arrive at work with "Take a Chance on Me" stuck in my achy head

Oh yeh, folks, the above story is all true (though times may be approximated). With a fantastic morning like this, who knows what the afternoon will hold?



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Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Twitter: The Extended Director's Cut

Not sure how many of you pay attention to the Twitter feed in my sidebar. Anyway, just thought I'd expand on a few of the topics I've been twittering about...

Tony and I applied for our passports a couple weeks ago, as I already mentioned. Several days ago, Tony got his birth certificate back in the mail, along with a note saying his passport had been approved and would be arriving in a separate mailing. (He also got one of the 2 pictures back, which we thought was weird--why do they make you send 2 pictures if they're just going to send one right back, untouched?) A couple days ago, Tony got his actual passport. In the meantime, no word on mine--no birth certificate, no note saying it's been approved. Nothing. This worries me ever so slightly. I'm telling myself that the "delay" is due to the fact that I was born in Canada rather than the US. But I was born an American citizen (thanks to my mom), so it's not about questionable citizenship. Maybe they just need to do extra background checks on Canadian-born Americans? Who knows.

We went to Kohl's the other day--mostly for Tony's sake, since he needed some new sandals. I checked out the sunglasses, since Ari got a hold of mine and they've been really loose ever since. I found a cute pair on clearance for only $8.80, so I snatched them up. And when we got to the register, they rang up at $6.60--even better. They even fit my face pretty well--with most sunglasses, the arms extend way past my ears, so they always slide down my nose. These are still a little bit big like that, but not nearly as bad as usual. And they have a nice, tight fit, too. The only problem is... it's a bit too tight. They kind of give me a headache after a bit. I'm hoping they might "stretch" a little. Hmm... maybe I should let Ari play with them...

I got a 2-part text message from the babysitter yesterday, telling me what Ari had done. They laid her down for her nap and as usual, took her pants off so she'd be more comfortable. Apparently, she woke up and decided not to tell anyone... and also decided to remove her diaper and pee all over the Pack-n-Play. When Mary found her, she was standing in the puddle, socks soaked, proudly declaring, "I pee!" Mary said she had to stifle a laugh as she tried to explain to Ari that no, we do not do that. And of course, I didn't have a waterproof pad on the mattress. Mary said she cleaned it, so hopefully there won't be any long-term damage/smell. And tomorrow, I will be sending along a fresh sheet for the mattress... as well as a waterproof pad.

I had the world's best lasagna last night. Since Lorraine has been in the hospital, people in the church have been stepping up and cooking meals for Wayne. But it's getting to the point where he has more food than he knows what to do with (especially since his brother and sister-in-law aren't around this week). So last night he brought over one of the lasagnas he'd been given--it was actually made by our friend Jason, a young single guy who's just started coming to church and has been hanging with Tony, Greg, and Wayne. So Greg came over, too, and Jason even joined us. And I cannot even begin to tell you how GOOD this lasagna was. I don't know what all was in it--I do know there was turkey sausage, and even spinach (which I adore)--but whatever the combination, it was divine. I told Tony we need to think of excuses to get Jason to cook that lasagna on a regular basis.

While I'm (kind of) talking about Lorraine... I stopped by to see her after work today. She is moving a lot now--squirming, like she wants to get out of bed. She's not fully awake yet, but Wayne said he had a short conversation with her earlier in the day. While I was in there, she did respond to him a few times--and then there were other times she didn't reply at all. It almost reminds me of when someone talk in their sleep--sometimes you can get them to have a decent conversation with you, and other times, they just mumble nonsense. Anyway, she looks a lot better, too--the swelling around her black eye is nearly gone. Like I've said before, she still has a ways to go, but all these little bits of progress are definitely good signs.

Got a new computer at work today. My mouse started dying on me sometime last week--as in, it would completely shut off, come back on, shut back off, over and over. They replaced it but told me if it happened again, they might have to replace the whole computer. I thought this seemed like an extreme solution to an ornery mouse, but a computer-savvy friend of mine explained that if the USB ports in a computer go bad then yes, the whole thing is pretty much shot. So... today I got a new computer. The IT guy spent probably about an hour transferring stuff and setting it all up. When he was finished, it was perfect--even my wallpaper had been transferred over. He asked me to do something (I can't remember what), and as I moved the mouse, it happened again--that little red light flickered, died, came back on. He replaced the mouse, and all was well--so I guess the mouse really was part of the problem after all. Only problem is... this new mouse? The scrolling wheel is sticky. No, I don't mean "It doesn't spin well"--I mean "There is a nasty, gooey substance on it." So, I e-mailed IT once again (yeh, they are going to love me)... and in the meantime, I'm avoiding using that particular feature. Of course, old habits die hard, and I keep forgetting, and then grossing myself out when I touch it.

My mom told me a few day ago to be on the lookout for a surprise package from Amazon. It came today, and I instructed Tony to open it because I couldn't take the suspense anymore. He told me it was the soundtrack for "Mamma Mia!" and I texted back, "I KNEW it!" I'm all proud of myself for figuring it out. I can't wait to listen to it, too--ever since I saw the movie weeks ago, I've wanted the soundtrack. My mom is awesome.

And speaking of awesome... *looks at clock* exactly one month from today, we will be at sea on our cruise ship. ONE month!



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Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Hey, this entry is about Ari

It's probably about time I did another Ari entry, huh? I've been holding off because I wanted to get some pictures to accompany the entry, but that doesn't seem like it will happen anytime soon. I do want to get some videos soon, too, but those will also have to wait.

Like a lot of toddlers, Ari has learned that trick of grabbing a hold of someone's finger to get them to come somewhere with her. When she does this, though, she says the word "pull." So instead of "Mommy, come," it's "Mommy, pull." Even though she's the one doing the pulling.

I said the phrase "holy cow" the other day, and Ari instantly repeated it, and something about her tone of voice just cracked us both up. We had her repeat her performance for several other people throughout the day, but I haven't really heard her do it since. But more and more lately, she's starting to repeat what we say--she'll often latch on to the last 2 or 3 words one of us says. Which means we need to start being more careful what we say in front of her.

She's also started saying "woo hoo" which is just the cutest thing, because I know she got it straight from me. I often say that to her when she does something, because saying "Good job" gets old after a while. To hear her little voice say "woo hoo!" in the same high-pitched tone I use just cracks me up. It's so fun when you know that they learned something specific directly from you (as long as it's something good, not bad).

She's starting to talk in complete sentences much more now. Sure, she'll still communicate just by stringing a few words together, but more often, she's putting together really decent sentences. Yesterday, I was getting ready and was only half-dressed, and she kept saying, "Where'd Mommy's shirt go?"

She still loves to watch "movies" (i.e. YouTube videos) online with us, and she has a new favorite: "The Lion Sleeps Tonight," featuring a singing hippo and a dancing dog. She even sings along with the "ah wee mo way" part.

Speaking of singing, she is definitely learning the concept. Tony sings this one song to her at bedtime that has a line that goes "La dee do la dee do dah day" and she loves to sing that part right along with him. I even caught her singing quietly to her baby doll in the car the other day.

She owns several baby dolls, and they are her latest obsession. She loves to bring them everywhere we go, and likes to make them do the same things she does. When we get in the car at night, she'll tell me the baby is sleeping. When she's hungry, she'll tell me the baby wants to eat (and will even try to feed it, if you let her). Last night, she put her baby on the potty, and kept telling me the baby was crying (since it's one of those dolls that cries when you tip it a certain way). When she told me the baby was hungry, she put it in her highchair. And if she takes a baby doll to bed, she insists that you cover the baby with the blanket, too.

She's still working on her ABCs and her numbers. Tony wrote the numbers 1-10 on our back porch a few days ago (in chalk) and when Ari was out there with me yesterday, she was walking along the line of numbers, murmuring, "7... 8... 9... 10." I don't think she knows which number is which yet, but at least she's starting to get the order right. Last night in the bathtub, she was playing with her foam numbers and letters, and holding them up and declaring what they were. Of course, she was completely wrong every time, but very cutely so. She'd hold up a letter, and proudly shout, "E!" And I'd smile and say, "No, baby, that's an L." Then... "S!"... "No, sweetie, that's the number 8."

She's known our "real" names for a while now, but lately, she's actually started to call Tony "Tony" on her own. It used to be that she would only do that right after hearing me say it, but now she does it unprompted. I have to admit, it's pretty cute to hear her little voice calling, "Tooooooonyyyy" when she's looking for him. But, never fear--I always make sure to correct her, and she happily complies and changes her song to "Daaaaaaddyyyyy."

I have a small pillow that my grandmother made for me. It's made out of Strawberry Shortcake fabric, and has a small pocket sewn into one side (it was my tooth fairy pillow when I was young). That pillow has been in Ari's crib since before she was born. She's mostly ignored it, though she often likes to sleep with her head up against it, at the head of the crib. But in the past couple weeks, she's taken to laying her head on it, and it makes me smile.

I saved the best story for last. Tonight, I was changing her diaper before bed, and Ari was reading one of her books--it's a book my mom got her that tells the Christmas story. As she turned to one page, she set the book down on her belly and started trying to fold her hands together. I was confused until I glanced at the book and saw that the illustration was a little boy praying beside his bed. "Ari, are you praying?" I asked. She just smiled at me. "Do you want to pray before you go to sleep tonight?" I continued. She gave me a small "Yes."

I sat her up, and asked her to fold her hands. She tried to lace her fingers together, concentrating carefully but still having trouble. "Here, do it this way," I suggested, placing my hands palm-to-palm. She did that with no problem. "Now, close your eyes," I instructed, and I watched her squeeze her eyes shut. Then I tried to get her to repeat after me, but she got distracted by something.

I called Tony upstairs, and started telling him what had just happened, but he just nodded and simply said, "Yeah, I taught her to pray last night. Here." He kneeled down beside her bed, got her to put her hands together and close her eyes, and repeat after him. "God..." he started.

"Goh," Ari repeated.

"I love Mommy."

"Luh Mommy."

"I love Daddy."

"Luh Daddy."

"And pray for Lorraine."

"Pay Low-ain."

"Amen."

"Men."

Amen.



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Sunday, August 24, 2008

1 update and 2 pics

Very short update on Wayne's mom...

Tony called Wayne when we got home this evening, and while he was still on the phone, he relayed the news to me that a nurse told Wayne she'd gotten Lorraine to squeeze her hand and give her a thumbs-up when she asked her to. As far as I know, Lorraine is still unconscious (Tony left to go see Wayne while I was putting Ari to bed, so I haven't had a chance to ask him for more details), but that is definitely some good news, at last.


In completely unrelated news, here are a couple of Ari pics, since I realized the other day that I haven't taken any pics of her since August 5. I wanted to get a picture of this outfit that my mom got her--it's a little dress with leggings, and I think it's the sweetest thing. She actually sat still quite patiently for the picture... but when I asked her to smile, I first got the fake smile, and then the ultra-cheesy smile.





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Thursday, August 21, 2008

Let the memory live again*

Ari spent the day at my parents' house today, and as we drove home tonight, we hit a little "lull" in our conversation. Suddenly, Ari piped up, "Elevator!"

A bit puzzled, I replied, "Did you ride an elevator today?" (Who knows--maybe Mom took her to the mall.)

Then she added, "I running!"

"Okaaaay..." I replied. Surely she didn't run at the mall.

Then she chirped, "Hopsital!" (Yes, that's how she says it: hops-i-tal.)

Suddenly, it all clicked for me. She was at the hospital with us on Tuesday afternoon. She rode an elevator, and when Dawn and I had to walk out to Dawn's van to get her diaper bag (in order to change her poopy diaper) she had a ball running down the hallway, yelling, "I running!" the whole way.

I continued the conversation with her, to see what else she would tell me. "Who did we see at the hospital?"

She paused to think for a moment, then said, "Wayne."

Of all the people we saw there, she named Wayne first. Coincidence, I'm sure, but sweet nonetheless. She also told me we saw "Pah-sur" (Pastor) and Daddy. Then she spent the rest of the car ride home wailing sweetly for the hops-i-tal, as though she wanted to go there right then. I told her Daddy would take her tomorrow.

I was just blown away by the whole conversation--not only did she tell me a story, but she shared a memory with me from 2 days ago, without any prompting from me.

She's growing up so much.


A short update on Lorraine...

They have taken her off the sedation completely, but she is not awake yet. They've also put her on pain meds. She is moving a bit more, but mostly involuntary movements--eyes fluttering, hands twitching, etc. Wayne said they told him that when they went to take her temperature sometime during the night last night, she frowned at them, and he also told me he's seen her moving her tongue around, so those seem to be good signs.

They want to try sitting her up (I think, partially, to help her wake up), but they needed to do X-rays first to check for injuries. They weren't able to complete all the X-rays today, though--I'm not sure what the reason was, but I didn't get the feeling that it was anything bad.

That's pretty much it--not a lot of news, but a slight bit of progress. And, again, we wait. And pray. Thanks so much for all your prayers and thoughts and kind words.


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Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Prayers, please

I talk a lot here about our friend, Wayne, so I know you all know that name. His mom, Lorraine, was rollerblading with their dog on Monday morning when she had a really bad fall. A lady was walking behind her and saw it happen, but we're still not totally sure if it was the dog that knocked her off balance or if she fell on her own. Either way, Lorraine struck her head hard enough to fracture it and was unresponsive when the paramedics got there.

Because of the head trauma, there was swelling on her brain, and blood and fluid building up and causing pressure. They've drained fluid from her brain, which has relieved some of the pressure, so she is stable. Right now, she is in the ICU, where they are simply monitoring her and watching for any changes. She's still sedated, but they've lessened it a little, to see how she does. She's still completely out, but is a tad more responsive--eyes fluttering, twitching, etc. They also tried to pull back on the respirator, but as soon as they tried that, the pressure on her brain spiked again, so they reversed what they were doing.

Wayne's brother Billy and his wife Erica drove up all through the night last night, so they are here as well. But Wayne is technically the "next of kin" so he's the one who's had to make decisions and sign off on procedures for his mom.

Right now, we're all just waiting and watching and praying. Please, please keep Lorraine in your prayers.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

In my daughter's eyes I can see the future

I was sitting on the floor, surrounded by Ari's toys, watching her cavort around me. She was in a silly mood, and as usual, could barely hold still. She danced and twirled about, seeming to be lost in her own little world. I watched her silently, an amused smile twitching at the corners of my mouth.

She spun toward me, approaching me lightly on her tiptoes, like a little ballerina. Finally, when her feet could bring her no closer, she bent at the waist and leaned in, so that her face was mere inches from mine. Her lips were pressed firmly together in a small smirk, as though she was trying to contain a laugh.

I just stared back, not saying anything, waiting to see what she would do.

For a moment, she simply stared, and I saw that look in her eyes that I've seen only a handful of times--I don't know how to describe it except to say it is like I am looking into the eyes of an old soul. She lifted her hand and gently poked me on the nose with her index finger. As she withdrew her arm, her lips curved into an impish grin, and her blue eyes sparkled devilishly at me. Then, with a swirl, she was gone, back to her crazy little dance.

I have no idea what that was all about. Yet as silly and meaningless as that gesture seemed, the memory of it has somehow managed to remain lodged in my head even hours later. And now here I am, saving it in words so that I can savor it again once the image has faded from my mind.



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Friday, August 15, 2008

And I will dance with Cinderella

"Ari and I danced today." Tony smiled at me as he spoke the words--that special smile that he reserves for Ari, or for when he is talking about her.

"Did you pick her up and dance with her that way? Or did she stay on the floor?" I don't know why I felt the need to clarify. Like it mattered.

"Well, it was like..." He trailed off, looking for the words. "Like in the video."

I glanced up at him, puzzled. "What video?"

"You haven't ever seen the video? For that 'Cinderella' song?"

"I know the song, but I've never seen the video."

Moments later, we were huddled next to each other in front of the laptop, while this video played.

(If you don't watch the whole thing, at least watch until about 56 seconds in--then you can see what Tony meant about the way he dances with Ari.)



Nevermind that it's a father-daughter song. It was barely past the first verse when I started bawling. You can blame hormones, coupled with the fact that I'd just returned from my trip to California and had missed them both immensely. He noticed my tears and slung an arm around me, to pull me close. I rested on his shoulder as we finished watching the video.

I wish I could find the words to express how much this man loves this little girl, and how much their relationship means to me. I always knew Tony would be a good father, but to see the proof right in front of me, every single day, just blows me away. I know I am so blessed--not many men do the stay-at-home-dad deal, and I'm sure even fewer do it with such passion and devotion. He adores Ari--you can see it not only in his face, but in hers. The way she looks at him, the way she laughs with him, the way she plays and giggles with him. They've bonded in their own special way, and it is the most amazing and humbling thing to behold. Sometimes when they wrestle or cuddle, it seems to me like they are in their own little world. Like no one else exists but them.

He said something to me the other day... I can't remember his exact words, but the gist was this: he feels like this bond he has with her is fleeting. Any day now, he expects she'll turn into a full-on girly-girl and will prefer me over him. And he wants to make the most of these moments he has with her, before she turns all her devotion to me.

I just stared at him. "Are you kidding me?" I said softly. "She absolutely adores you. She will always be a Daddy's Girl, whether she's a tomboy or a girly-girl. You know, I tried to paint her toenails several days ago, and she wouldn't let me. But she let you do it. Just because she starts getting interested in nail polish and dress-up and make-up and dolls, doesn't mean she's going to want you or need you any less."

He simply smiled and nodded in reply--as though he knew I was right, but just needed to hear me say it.

I try to tell him, as often as I can, what a wonderful father he is. But I always feel like I struggle for the right words--like my words sound trite and cliched. I wish he could see into my heart and know how much I mean it. I am overwhelmed by the way he loves Ari, the way he pours his heart and soul into her. What he has with Ari--it is rare. It is beautiful. It is a love that I hope and pray will carry her throughout her life. I hope she will always feel like she can (either literally or figuratively) run into his arms the way she does now--arms outstretched, head tilted back, full-speed ahead, knowing he will not only catch her but also cushion her landing.



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Thursday, August 14, 2008

California, Part 3 (Conclusion)

After the 17-Mile Drive, we went to Carmel Beach. Right as we entered the sand, we saw this guy hard at work on a sand sculpture.



Then we walked down a huge hill to get to the water.



Lyvi again enjoyed the waves to the fullest. We ran into friends of Steve and Eden's, and the guy was body-surfing. (That's who Lyvi is watching in this picture.)



Lyvi also fell a few times in the sand after she got wet, so by the time we left, she was literally caked in sand. I had to get a picture.



We headed home after that, and rather than go out to eat, we got takeout from a local hole-in-the-wall place called The Noodle Bar. Eden and I picked it up and brought it home, and it was delicious. After Lyvi went to bed, us grown-ups played Sorry and Scrabble. And I actually won at Scrabble--that never happens. (I know, it's sad--you would think an English major would kick butt at Scrabble, but it's not true. I just don't have the patience for it.)

The next day, Saturday, dawned bright and sunny--not a cloud in the sky. We all went out to breakfast at a place called The Breakfast Club, and I got some awesome chocolate-chip pancakes. Here's Lyvi being cute while we waited for our food. I was trying to get a picture of her ponytail (it was in the cutest little ringlet), but it didn't really work.



We lingered over breakfast, and then headed to the airport, arriving right about at that 2-hours-before mark. But there was literally no one in line for security--in fact, I think it might have even been closed at that moment. (It's a tiny airport--only 6 gates, and I don't think they even handle big jets there.) So we all headed up to the observation deck so that Lyvi could watch planes.

Guess who didn't want to pose for this picture? (And look at that gorgeous blue sky!)



This is mostly what Lyvi did on the observation deck--ran all over the place.



After a little while, we said our goodbyes, and I got in line for security. There were only a few people in front of me, and I still had plenty of time. The 2 ladies in front of me (a mom and daughter, I presume) had apparently never flown before--or at least, not since 9/11. They were totally clueless about the new liquid guidelines--they didn't have their liquids in the required Ziploc bag, and most of their liquid items were far too large to pass inspection anyway. I mean, I understand that some people hardly ever fly--but you would think if you were flying for the first time, or the first time in a long time, that that would be even more reason to check out the latest guidelines and rules. Anyway, one security guard assisted them as they dug through their bags and another let me and everyone else cut in front of them.

Everything went perfectly on my trip home--not a single delay or problem. I had a window seat from Monterey to Phoenix, which I was excited about, since it was nighttime (and I had aisle seat anyway) on my trip into Monterey. It turns out I was on the perfect side of the plane too--after we took off, I was treated to the most amazing view of the Pacific coastline, for a good 10 or 15 minutes (until we veered inland). It was so amazing, that it pretty much made up for all the gloomy weather of the past 2 days. I sat there with my face glued to the window, trying to drink it all in. All I could think was, Who knows when--or if--I'll ever see this coast again? I wanted to memorize the unique beauty of it all.

I got a bite to eat on my layover in Phoenix, then boarded the plane for a 4-hour-and-15-minute flight. Even though I had plenty to read, I forked over the $5 for a headset to watch the in-flight movie, just to have something mindless to do. It was What Happens in Vegas--it was OK. Not a movie I'd ever see again, but it was a decent diversion. Even better--once it was over, they showed an episode of "The Offfice." Fittingly, it was the "Office Olympics" episode. I was so tickled to be able to watch my favorite TV show on the plane ride. Once that was over, there were a couple more shows, but I lost interest (plus, the cheap-o headset was hurting my ears) and returned to my book.

I texted Tony as soon as we landed, thinking he was waiting at home for my text. But instead, he was already almost at the airport. I called him once I neared the exit, trying to figure out if he was on the lower or upper level. He'd had to circle around (since you're not allowed to loiter at the curb), so he came to where I was. I dumped my suitcase in the trunk as fast as I could, then climbed into the passenger seat and wrapped my arms around him for a long hug. Like I said before, it was weird not having Ari in the backseat, or waiting at home for me, but the greeting I got from her the next morning more than made up for it.

And so ends my journey to California and back. It was so awesome to spend time with my brother, and Eden, and my adorable little niece. And I absolutely loved all the scenery, and being a little tourist about it all, taking pictures everywhere I went. I just couldn't get over how beautiful it all was, even under a dreary sky. It's funny, because on my drive home yesterday, I found myself paying attention to the scenery around me. It's not that I don't think it's beautiful--it's just that I never really think much about it at all. Then it occurred to me that people who live on the West Coast probably feel the same way about their trees and bushes and mountains. And maybe someone who's never been to the East Coast might find our scenery just as breathtaking and amazing as I found the West Coast's to be. "The grass is always greener," right?

You know, it took me 3 entries to cover a less-than-3-day trip. Can you all imagine how many entries you're going to have to endure when I get back from my week-long cruise?


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Wednesday, August 13, 2008

California, Part 2 (of 3, apparently)

(Go back a couple entries for Part 1, if you missed it.)

Friday began as a lazy day. Steve and Eden had to wait for not one, but two, sets of movers/packers to stop by. The first ones were merely stopping in to evaluate what they had to pack, and would be back at the beginning of the following week to actually pack it up. The second set were there to take some of Steve's stuff on ahead of him. After they were all done (and after several round of Guitar Hero 3 on the XBox, at which I royally sucked but could see how I could easily get hooked on), we headed out. At first, we were just going to head to Carmel Beach, but then Eden suggested we do the 17-Mile Drive, and I agreed, eager to see more beautiful scenery. At this point, the sun was teasing us and peeking out just a little bit. But you won't see much proof of that in my pictures.

Our first stop was Pescadero Point, which is the northern-most point of Carmel Bay and Stillwater Cove. (Yeh, don't be impressed--I totally copied that from the guide/map they gave us.) Lyvi loved running around.



I think Steve took nearly as many pictures as I did.



But he also took a couple of me. (Because I know how scenery-only pics can get boring after a while. See--I'm always thinking of you guys.)



I didn't change spots--just changed the angle I was sitting at.



I had to get a picture of this tree, because it was one of several that had these brick-like things inside of it. I'm sure there's some purpose or meaning behind that, but I have no clue what it is.



I have no idea whose house this is--I just had to get a picture of one of the gazillions of mansions that lined the road. Seriously, these houses were so big, they each had a name. And most had big old security gates like this.



Another stop--The Lone Cypress. (No kidding--that's really the name.) The brochure says, "As one of California's most enduring landmarks, The Lone Cypress has prevailed on its rocky perch for over 250 years."



I took this picture as we were driving. I'm surprised that it didn't come out blurry.



This was one of my favorite spots--Bird Rock. If you look closely, you can see this rock is covered with birds and sea lions and seals. It was so noisy! Also, off to the side were a couple smaller rocks with birds and seals on them--I told my brother the smallest one was called Loser-Bird Rock, because it's where all the uncool birds have to hang out. (Ha ha ha.)



There were several of these little spotted squirrels running around--they would boldly approach anyone in search of food, but once they saw we didn't have food, they moved on. I caught this guy while he was still scoping out Steve.



Eden handed Steve some of Lyvi's Cheerios to feed the little guy.



And then as we got back in the car, we saw this sign.



Oops.

I wish this picture had come out better. This was our last stop, Shepherd's Knoll, but I wasn't quite tall enough to get a good picture over the trees. But if you look closely, you can see Monterey Bay in the background. It was much more beautiful in person than it is in this picture.



To be concluded...



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Not a California entry

I'm still working on the "California, Part 2" entry (if you missed Part 1, go back one entry), so until then, here are some other highly-fascinating tidbits from my life (conveniently divided into 3 easy-to-swallow pieces).

"Old age should burn and rave at close of day"
( ^ 50 cool points to anyone who can tell me where that line comes from.)

When I was driving home from work last Wednesday (right before I left for CA), I was about 15 minutes from home when my battery light and emergency brake light came on and stayed on. Nothing else seemed wrong, so I kept driving, keeping a wary eye out for any other problems. Then I went to CA, and both Tony and I promptly forgot about the issue. We took my car to church on Sunday, and the A/C conked out on the way there. Then Tony had an errand to run, and the radio died (he ended up going home, and coming back in his car). By this point, we were both thinking it was the alternator, based on the "symptoms." But that didn't sound quite right to me, because we replaced my alternator not that long ago.

I started to panic ever so slightly, wondering if this signaled the "beginning of the end" for my beloved car. Plus, I predicted months ago that right before we would leave on our cruise, one of our cars would die completely on us. My theory seemed to be coming true.

Tony was prepared (with Wayne's help) to remove the old alternator and install the new one, to save us the cost of taking the car to a mechanic and having to pay labor costs. He also found out that if you bring in the old alternator when you go to buy a new one, you get a discount. But when he got under my car to remove the alternator, he discovered the true problem--my drive belt was completely gone. He explained to me what the drive belt controls, and it was all the things that had been going wrong in my car. We ended up taking my car to a mechanic to have the belts put in (and, incidentally, my car died mere feet from the shop--my strong, brave little Sentra). The good news is, all of that cost us much less than a new alternator would have. And my Sentra has lived to see another day.

The money we saved just got spent on 2 highly-overpriced little books

We finally applied for our passports yesterday. I know--we should have done it months ago. But fortunately, we've been told by 2 reliable sources (someone Tony talked to on the phone, and the lady at the post office that took our applications) that passports are being processed within the normal 3-4 week time-range, so we will have them just in time.

Getting on the ball with our passports gave us the idea to check on some of the other details of our cruise--mainly, our flights. Come to find out, our flight times have been changed. Our 8:30 AM flight to Miami on September 27 has been changed to 6:35 AM. (I don't even want to think about how early we're going to have to get up to make that one. But on the upside, we'll get to Miami that much earlier, which relieves my worrisome mind.) We also discovered that the price went down a little, but when Tony called to ask about getting some sort of refund, they basically told him that they'd have to charge a fee for it, and it would end up not even being worth it. But we discovered another lovely piece of information--because we booked our flight way back in March, before they started charging for all checked baggage, we don't have to pay for our bags. Since we're allowed 2 bags apiece, that was potentially a lot of money we'd have to fork out. So it all evens out.

But speaking of books (the real kind this time)...

I took 4 books on my trip to California (see, this is kind of about my California trip--just without pictures), and got through 2 and 1/2 of them. I started off reading Sex and the City and I absolutely hated it. Yet, I still had to finish it, because I am just not the type of person who can walk away from a book (I also can't walk away from bad movies, either). The TV show is much more entertaining--the book was just depressing. And I'm not even single in NYC. My second book was Babyville by Jane Green--I picked it up at Target at the last minute, simply so I'd have something fluffy and light to read. It was the perfect chick-lit book--easy reading, enjoyable, a book that I liked but will probably never read again. When I finished that book, I started my third one--I actually read the first chapter the night before I left CA, and had a hard time setting it aside in the name of a good night's sleep. It was called Nineteen Minutes by Jodi Picoult, and this was my first introduction to this particular author. I was drawn in by the way it surprised me (no spoilers here, don't worry)--the short synopsis on the back did little to reveal the true depth of the plotline, and once I realized what was going on, the book had me, hook, line and sinker. I really enjoyed it, even though it seemed like it was all tied up too quickly in the last chapter.

And since I got on such a reading binge on my trip, I made a trip to the library last night for some fresh fodder. (My fourth book, John Grisham's Runaway Jury, just isn't appealing to me yet.) I came home with...

Chocolat by Joanne Harris

What's Eating Gilbert Grape by Peter Hedges

(And yes, if you're wondering, it's no coincidence that I chose these 2. I've seen both movies, which both happen to star my dear Johnny Depp, and liked them both well enough that I decided I needed to read the books, which I'm sure will be even better.)

The Neverending Story by Michael Ende (I haven't seen the movie in years, and I only recently realized that I've never read the book. Here's to reliving fond childhood memories.)

The Pact by Jodi Picoult (I liked her well enough to want to check out another book of hers--one that, from the back-cover synopsis, promises to be just as emotionally heart-wrenching as Nineteen Minutes.)

Unfortunately, I got busy last night and didn't have a chance to start any of them. And I'm still debating which one I should read first...

Epilogue

I got a text from Tony earlier today, asking what our plans were for tonight. (We have this conversation nearly every day.) When I replied "I don't know--why?" (as usual), he replied that he was just wondering if I was going to want some alone time when I got home and he should take Ari to the mall/park by himself, or if I wanted to do something with all 3 of us together when I got home. Of course, since I was deprived of the 2 of them for most of last week, I suggested we all do something as a family. But just the fact that he thought of me, and volunteered to let me have some "me-time," means the world to me. I love him so much.

Also, please take notice to my new countdown-widget-thingamabob... Only a month and a half until our CRUISE!


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Tuesday, August 12, 2008

California, Part 1

(This is a long one, with lots of pictures. Get comfy.)

My flight to California left on Wednesday at 3:20. I got to the airport around 2--not quite the "2 hours in advance" that they advise, but close enough. Naturally, I flew through security and just sat and sat and sat. But the flight took off on time, so that was good. It was a fairly short flight to Pittsburgh. Pittsburgh seemed like a nice airport, but I didn't have a lot of time to check it out, since I only had a half-hour layover. By the time I got off the plane and hiked to the gate I needed, that flight was already boarding. I wasn't running late or anything, but I figured it was better to just go ahead and board as soon as I could.

I toted along 4 books to keep me occupied on my journey, but I also (very wisely) brought along a small, blank notebook. It came in handy on the long flight from Pittsburgh to Phoenix, when I got tired of reading. Here's the entry I wrote during the flight....


It's a big plane--3 seats, an aisle, and 3 more seats. And they're pretty comfortable, too.

There is a movie. But it's Prince Caspian, which I've already seen. Plus, headphones cost $5. Maybe on the way back. The US Airways magazine says eastbound flights are showing What Happens in Vegas. Haven't seen that one.

We're about halfway through the flight now, and I'm peeking out the window. I wish the pilot would tell us where we are. Whatever state we are over right now, I know it's one I've never seen. Maybe it's Nebraska. I've always wanted to go there. (I just say that to be silly.)

It's very, very flat out there. But hundreds of little strips of water break up the monotony. The landscape is cut into hundreds of neat little squares. It's all so symmetrical.

The plane is rocking and wobbling, and the captain has just made his generic "hey, there's turbulence--put on your seatbelt" speech. That's nice, but... where are we? (Maybe he doesn't know.)

Prince Caspian is in one of its Epic Battle Scenes. I know there was more than one, though, so this doesn't help me figure out if the movie is almost over. Not that it matters. There will still be a good chunk of flight time left when it is.

If we do fly over the Grand Canyon, the captain had better announce that. With my luck, it would be visible from the other side of the plane.

I killed some time with the puzzles in the US Airways magazine--2 crosswords and a couple of other word-related ones. I sucked at the crosswords (which was not surprising), but did really well on the others. I'm fairly impressed with myself right now.

Oh, snap. The trees just got involved in the Epic Battle Scene. It is on now, bad guys.

Another peek out the window, and I see that all the squares have circles inside them now. It's like looking at a thousand little pie graphs. No crop circles, though. Oooh, now I see some of them new-fangled 3-bladed windmills. Not sure why that excites me.

Where did they film this Narnia movie? That beach is stunning. To think, I'll be seeing similar white-sand, turquoise-water beaches myself in less that 2 months.

Wow--mountains. Tons of them. And they're brown. I'm so used to green ones. These can't be the Rockies... can they? (Note to self: Brush up on knowledge of U.S. geography.) On second thought, they could be just hills--it's so hard to determine perspective from way up here. Either way, it's a very different landscape for me to ogle.

Clouds--go away.

I see another plane in the distance, going the opposite direction. Holy crap, that sucker is moving. It doesn't seem possible that this plane is flying just as quickly--especially when the ground seems to be merely crawling by.

Clouds--seriously. Back off. Oh fine, just surround the plane now. Be that way. I suppose you're going to act like you have nothing to do with that turbulence right now, huh?

More mountains. They are a little greener now, but these mountains are Not Kidding Around--they are huge. These must be the Rockies, since we're less than 30 minutes away from landing in Phoenix.

Wow. This is really beautiful.

Captain said something about it being very windy this time of year. And I suddenly remember someone warning me to be prepared for a rough landing in Phoenix. This will be fun.

. . .

Pfft--that was nothing.

I see palm trees!

Hello, Phoenix.


I had about an hour layover in Phoenix, which turned into 2 hours since our plane was late arriving, and then needed maintenance. It was a bit annoying, but then again, I'd rather know the plane was functioning properly before we take off. And if there's anywhere to get delayed, it's better at the end of the trip, where you don't have to worry about missing any connections. It was another tiny plane that we rode to Monterey, and we got in about an hour later than scheduled. Eden met me at the airport and gave me a ride back to their place. It was about 11 PM, so it was much too dark to see anything on the drive.

The next morning, we were all up early for Steve's graduation ceremony. I took a picture of him before we left the house, just in case I forgot to get a good picture of him alone later.



At the ceremony, Steve was one of 2 students who were also receiving their Associate's degree. This is the colonel presenting him with his diploma.



And here he is later, receiving his certificates for completing the linguist program.



The ceremony was very nice--there were men and women from all different branches of the military who were graduating--27 total, I think. I got to meet several of Steve's classmates before and after the ceremony. After the ceremony, all the Air Force people decided they wanted a picture together. First, they did a serious one, but then they did a couple goofy ones...





Here's me, with Eden and Steve.



And Eden and Steve (I think this picture is so cute.)



And here's me and Steve. (Hard to believe he's 5 years younger than me, huh?)



We went back home to get Olyvia (she had stayed home with a sitter), then went to lunch at a delicious little crepe place in downtown Monterey, along Cannery Row. After we ate, we walked around, and I had to make sure to snap a picture of a palm tree. I adore palm trees.



As you can see, it was a cloudy day (yet, somehow, bright enough for me to want to wear sunglasses outdoors), but in spite of that, the views were still gorgeous. I can only imagine how much better they would have looked in the sun's light.



We walked through a lot of the indoor shops too. This area reminded me so much of Inner Harbor in Baltimore--just the way it was all set up, with the indoor shops and the places along the shore. But one of the big differences was the Spanish architecture of the buildings.

I snapped these pictures of Steve and Lyvi while we shopped.



Mom and Dad supplied me with some extra spending money to take Steve, Eden and Lyvi out to dinner to celebrate his graduation, and Steve picked a little Mediterranean restaurant that they had never tried before. Lyvi sampled the lemon in her water, and this was her reaction:



But the silly girl kept tasting them. I got a nice family shot...



We got hummus as an appetizer, and Lyvi was thrilled with her "dip-it." She enjoyed it so much that she got it all over herself.



I even took a picture of my food--kefta-kabobs with veggies and rice. It was sooooo incredibly delicious, and it made me miss my mom's awesome Persian cooking.



After dinner, we went for a walk on Del Monte Beach. My first order of business was to dip my feet in the Pacific Ocean (which was warmer than I expected it to be, based on the cool, cloudy weather), and get the picture to prove it.



We walked along the beach for quite a while, and even though it was a bit chilly, I loved it. My favorite thing about the beach isn't the sun or the water or the waves--it's just walking along the edge of the water, taking it all in. When we lived in Florida, Tony and I used to go walking on the beach at night--it was so perfect.

I love this picture of Steve, Eden, and Lyvi.



Lyvi just loved the water, and spent nearly the entire time just running in and out of the waves and getting herself soaked all the way up to her waist.



And I'll end with a few more shots of the beach...







Stay tuned for Part 2!

Monday, August 11, 2008

Reunited, and it feels so good

No California pictures yet... I have nearly 100, so it's going to take me a while to sort through them all. In the meantime... a story, to tide you over.

Since my flight was getting in at 11:30 PM on Saturday night, we made arrangements for Ari to spend the night at Pastor and Dawn's house. We figured that made more sense than Tony having to wake her up to come get me. And we'd see Pastor and Dawn at church the next morning, so all they had to do was bring her with them. I was thrilled to see Tony at the airport, but it felt a little weird to know I'd have to wait until the next morning to see Ari.

We got to church around 9 AM, as usual, and started setting up for the service. By about 9:45, I was on stage with the Praise Team, practicing the songs for that morning. Around 10, I saw Pastor and Dawn's van pull into the parking lot. I waited until I could see Dawn and Ari through the glass doors, and then I abandoned the Praise Team to greet Ari.

I was waiting inside the door when Ari walked in, already crouched with my arms outstretched. She walked into my hug, and when I scooped her up, she immediately said, "Daddy?"

"Daddy went bye-bye--he'll be back soon," I answered. (He had run to Wal-Mart to get a few things.)

We walked down the hall together, and as Ari spotted all her little friends, she started calling out their names. "Ty-Ty! Molly! Abby!" When we entered the hall, I put her down, thinking she'd probably want to play with them, like she usually does.

Instead, she turned to me, raised her arms, and said, "Up, up." I picked her back up, and she nestled her head on my shoulder, and remained that way for at least 5 minutes.

I rejoined the Praise Team and continued singing, while marveling at Ari's reaction. She is normally much too busy for cuddles like that. I squeezed her close, knowing that the moment would quickly pass. And sure enough, when she'd had her fill of snuggling, her head popped up and she asked to go play. I helped her step down from the stage and smiled as she dashed off to play with her friends. That 5-minute cuddle was all the proof I needed that she missed me as much as I missed her.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Home Sweet Home

I don't even know why I'm online right now--I suppose I can blame jet lag. Sure, the clock says 1 AM, but my body thinks it's only 10 PM, so that's not all that late, right?

But since I'm here, I might as well tell you... I am home, safe and sound, from my trip to California. I took lots of pictures, so I may have to write about my trip in 2 or 3 entries, but you don't mind, right? Right.

But you'll have to wait. Right now, I need to at least pretend I'm on my way to bed...

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

About that munchkin *EDIT*

I got home from work yesterday, and right as I was about to walk in the door, I heard Tony call my name. I peeked around the corner, and he was at the opposite end of the sidewalk, now calling for Ari to come to him. I heard him saying, "C'mon, Ari--who's here? Come see who's here." A few seconds later, her little body appeared. She looked up and saw me, and even though she was probably about 100 feet away, I could still see her break out into a huge smile. Then she started running. I figured she would either slow down or get distracted before she got to me, but she kept up her pace and ran the entire way to me, ending by collapsing into my open arms. With a tackle like that, she may very well have a future in the NFL.

She has added the word "um" to her vocabulary--most notably, when you ask her a question. She was doing it to me all day Sunday, and I got to the point where I was asking her lots of questions on purpose, just to hear her say it. She says it with such spirit, too. It's not a muttered "um"--she says it loudly, eagerly, with a little punch behind the word, and holds the "mmm" sound for just a few seconds.

She is talking so much more in full sentences now. And by "full sentences" I don't just mean that she's stringing 2 or 3 words together--sometimes she literally speaks in grammatically correct and complete sentences. There are still times when Tony and I will do a double-take at each other, and say, "Did she just say what I thought she said?" We were coming home from errands the other day, and as Tony went to get Ari out of her carseat, she very clearly said, "It's raining outside." She also loves to talk about herself, and tell us what she's doing. "Ari eat. Ari clean. Ari's shirt messy. Ari's baby go night-night." She's also getting bossy with the dogs, and it's hilarious to see this little tiny person bellowing, "Ivan, move!" or "Sasha, go!"

She also very regularly asks for help, and has started to say, "Need help, please" without prompting. Sometimes she'll even add an "I" at the beginning to make it a truly complete sentence. She asks so sweetly that it's hard to say no--and it's even harder when I have to say no because she's asking me to do something impossible.

I was in the kitchen the other day when Ari insistently started saying, "Water, water." It seemed a bit odd to me, since she doesn't really like water (so why would she be asking for it?) until I turned to look at her. She was standing next to me, holding up Ivan's almost-empty water bowl. I asked her to put it down, and as she did, she dumped the remaining water on the floor. It looked to me like she did it on purpose, so I scolded her and shooed her out of the kitchen so I could finish what I was doing. Of course, that didn't last long, and the next thing I heard her saying was "I clean. I clean mess." I turned, and she was sitting on the floor--she had pulled down both dishtowels and was mopping the puddle up with them.

She didn't take a nap on Sunday afternoon, because she refused to fall asleep. But if it wasn't for me checking on her, I never would have known. The first time I checked was about half an hour after I'd laid her down--I found her door open (but since we have a baby gate across the doorway, she's trapped in her room), and she was playing quietly with her toys. I sternly told her to get back in bed, and she did it without complaint. Half an hour later, she was still awake, though this time she'd stayed in her crib. I firmly told her to lay down and she did. Another 15 minutes went by, and I again had to tell her to get back in bed. After about another 15 minutes, I heard a huge "thud" and I dashed upstairs, fearing she'd fallen out of her crib onto her head--and the lack of crying only worried me more. But there she was, calmly standing in her crib, looking curiously at me as though she wondered why I looked so frantic. I didn't see anything she had thrown on the floor that could have made that much noise, so it must have come from a neighbor's apartment. And at this point, I gave up on her napping. It had been about 2 hours since naptime had started, and it was getting too late in the day to bother. But she was in an excellent mood, and she spent the evening and night with my parents, who also reported that she was a perfect angel for them. I'm not at all ready to let her give up naps completely (and, really, I don't think she's ready either), but it's nice to know that even when she's not sleepy, she'll still cooperate with the idea of naptime. I think, even though she didn't sleep, the quiet "downtime" was still refreshing for her.

I've also made it a habit to explain almost everthing to her, pretending she understands every word I say. I mean, maybe she doesn't grasp everything now, but someday she will, so I might as well get in the habit. When she misbehaves, I make a point of explaining to her that what she did was bad, and why it was bad, and why she shouldn't do it again. The other day, I caught her whacking Sasha on the head with a water bottle (empty, but still). Poor Sasha was desperately trying to get away, but Ari was persistently following her. I scolded Ari, telling her that was not nice and she was giving Sasha boo-boos. Then I told her she needed to say she was sorry to Sasha. I didn't expect her to (and at this point, she was crying), but it was kind of the principle of the thing--sooner or later, she will learn what the word "sorry" means. When she didn't say it, I asked her to give Sasha a hug, a concept I know she understands. Of course, when she tried to, Sasha scooted away from her. So finally I had Ari give Sasha a treat, to "make up" with her, and that was the end of that (though Sasha did keep a wary eye on Ari the rest of the afternoon).

When Ari's being whiny, I use the same approach--calmly explaining to her what's going on, why she needs to wait, etc. For example, if she's fussing because she wants to get out of the shopping cart, I tell her she needs to be patient, that we need to go pay and once we pay, we can go home. Maybe it's just the calm tone of my voice or the attention I'm giving her that soothes her, but whatever the reason, it's working. Sometimes she even stares at me intently, as though she's really listening, trying to absorb every word I say. I don't want to be one of those parents who just says "no" all the time, without giving any reason (or, worse, giving a lame reason like "because I said so"). Of course, this little habit of mine will probably drive her nuts when she's a teenager and she could care less about my reasons for saying no because I am just so unfair and unreasonable and all I want to do is ruin her life.

I just have to end by saying... overall, she is just such a sweet little person. I know, I know--I'm her mom, so I'm biased. But I've been bracing myself for the "Terrible Twos" to hit, and so far, they haven't. Sure, she throws fits now and then, but they are nothing compared to some horror stories I've heard. And I know--the worst could be just around the corner. So for now, I'm just going to savor the little angel I have, and cross my fingers that maybe we can skip the terribleness altogether.

*** EDIT ***

Edited to show you...



... pigtails!

Yeh, I know they're crooked and her part is all messed up--I just did them quickly to see if I could. And then I snapped pictures as quickly as I could before she tore them out.





OK, that's all. As you were.



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Monday, August 4, 2008

I'm glad whenever I can share her laughter

Click below to listen to the music while you read... (There's no video--just audio.)



As the music started, I knew, even before Meryl Streep started singing the words, what type of song this would be--a sentimental mother-daughter song. And I knew I would cry.

Schoolbag in hand
She leaves home in the early morning
Waving goodbye
With an absent-minded smile
I watch her go
With a surge of that well-known sadness
And I have to sit down for a while
The feeling that I'm losing her forever
And without really entering her world
I'm glad whenever I can share her laughter
That funny little girl


And even as I felt the tears form in my eyes, I almost felt silly for allowing them. Next to me was my friend Dawn--her daughter, 17, is about a month away from heading off to college. I could see tears shining in Dawn's eyes, too, and that made sense. If anyone knew the impact, the meaning, of words like these, it was her. So why was I crying?

Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Do I really see what's in her mind
Each time I think I'm close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time


Sure, I'm a mom, but barely. I mean, in the grand scheme of things, I'm pretty clueless about this whole mom thing, and I certainly have no knowledge of what it's like to watch your child leave. Ari isn't even close to going to school yet, let alone leaving for college or getting married or anything like that.

Sleep in our eyes
Her and me at the breakfast table
Barely awake
I let precious time go by
Then when she's gone
There's that odd melancholy feeling
And a sense of guilt
I can't deny
What happened to the wonderful adventures
The places I had planned for us to go
Well some of that we did
But most we didn't
And why I just don't know


Maybe it was a longing. A longing for that close mother-daughter connection that I saw on-screen. Maybe it was because I hope, with all my heart, that Ari will someday be just as broken up about leaving me as I am about watching her go. Or maybe it was the knowledge that no matter how hard I try to make the most of the time we have, it's inevitable that precious moments will pass me by too quickly--or, worse, that I will find myself too busy or too preoccupied to even notice the moments when they happen.

Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Do I really see what's in her mind
Each time I think I'm close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time


Or maybe it was because, in some small way, moments like this make me understand, slightly, how my own mother must have felt when she watched me go off to college, get married, move away, have a daughter of my own. It will be years before I experience any of those moments firsthand, but maybe, in some small way, I am beginning to know how it feels. Behind my tears, I could feel my heart ache. Because as far away as it might be, I know the moment is coming. Ari will grow up, and she won't need me the way she does now.

Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture
And save it from the funny tricks of time
Slipping through my fingers


In church yesterday, after the service was over, I was packing up our things when I heard a little squeal of joy. I turned and saw Ari running right toward me, a smile beaming from her face, her arms outstretched. You would think she hadn't seen me in days, rather than the short hour it had actually been. I squatted down and opened my arms, ready to receive her, but also just as ready for her to stop in her tracks and run the other direction, as she often does.

But she barely slowed down as she barrelled into my arms, and I had to catch myself to keep from toppling over. After a short hug, I scooped her up in my arms and we walked away together. She babbled in my ear, and I couldn't stop smiling.

Schoolbag in hand
She leaves home in the early morning
Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile


In the mood for some peppy Mamma Mia! music yesterday, I went to YouTube and found some of my favorite songs from the movie: "Honey, Honey," "Mamma Mia," "Take a Chance on Me." Ari was playing nearby, but I wasn't necessarily playing the music for her benefit--I wasn't even sure she'd notice. But out of the corner of my eye, I saw her start to dance--arms flailing, body twisting, her face all lit up with glee as she nearly made herself dizzy with her wild dance moves. I turned up the volume, pulled myself out of my chair, and danced right along with her. Delighted to have a partner, Ari danced even more enthusiastically, and we imitated each other's moves, laughing and smiling together.

I'm glad whenever I can share her laughter
That funny little girl


(lyrics from "Slipping Through My Fingers" from Mamma Mia!)



Widgets & Flash Toys

Friday, August 1, 2008

A 10-Year Anniversary 14 Years in the Making

Sometime prior to September 1994...

He smiled at me, his smile highlighting the wrinkles firmly etched in his face. His face may have betrayed his true age, but the light in his eyes was still young. "The first 10 years are the hardest," he said. "After that, it's a piece of cake." There was a twinkle in his eye, and I wasn't sure what it meant. Was he simply teasing me, trying to "scare" a young girl? Or was there a hint of truth to his words?

I smiled politely and gave a courteous laugh, but I remember thinking, 10 years? I'll have to wait 10 years for things to be easy and comfortable? That seems like such a long time. But my momentary panic subsided quickly. After all, we were all here celebrating the 50th wedding anniversary of this man and his wife. They were proof that it could be done.

At that moment, I could barely fathom the thought of being married at all, let alone for 10 years--it seemed to be ages, light years away. I couldn't wrap my mind around the concept. . . .


September 1994

I glanced side to side as I walked down the hallway, looking for the room number I needed. There was a girl a few steps behind me and though we hadn't spoken, I had a feeling she was looking for the same room. The classroom was easy to find--it was one of the only rooms with the lights on, and it was already full of people. I took a brief moment to steel myself before entering. OK, so this class has already met once, and everyone probably already has all their seat assignments--big deal. Just act like you know what you're doing. I walked through the doorway, my head held high, looking cool and confident.*

*Other people's interpretation of my entrance is that I resembled a lost puppy dog. Those people are wrong.

He was the first person I met eyes with when I entered--mostly because he was right in my line of sight, and partly because he was staring right at me, with a friendly grin on his face. Before I could make another move, he spoke. "Are you looking for the teacher?"

"Yes."

"She's right over there." He gestured toward a woman at the front of the room.

I don't remember saying thank you, but I hope I did. He told me his name, and I heard the name "Terry." That was the end of our brief interaction on that day.

The next week in class (which was a Biology lab), the teacher split the entire class into 2 large groups to work on an experiment. Somehow I became the designated secretary of the group, charged with making a graph of our results. I thought things were going fine until I stole a glance at the other group's chart, which looked completely different. I quickly realized that I was the one doing it wrong, and, with a sigh of frustration, I scribbled a large "X" across the page.

I don't know where he came from, but suddenly he was right beside me, taking the pencil out of my hand and erasing my X. He spoke softly to me as he helped me redo the graph, but I was too annoyed with myself to pay attention to his words or even notice his kindness.

A few days later, our paths crossed in the student common area. We chatted for a few minutes (during which I figured out his name was Tony, not Terry), and he casually asked me if I would be at the soccer game that evening. I said yes--after all, the soccer games were the big social event of the weekend, and almost everyone was there. "Maybe I'll see you there," he said, with that same easy grin he'd given me on the day we met. And with that, he was gone.

We found each other at the game, and spent the entire game talking. I have no idea what teams were playing or who won--my focus was completely on him. I was surprised to find myself completely at ease. I was so shy in high school that talking to any guy, whether I liked him or not, usually left me tongue-tied or stumbling through my words. But with him, the words came easily, and the conversation flowed naturally. It was like we knew each other already.

Our friendship exploded from that moment on. I'd never become friends with anyone that quickly, let alone a guy. Our friends (and almost all of them were mutual friends) teased us relentlessly about being a couple, but we both firmly argued that we were just friends. After all, I told myself, I can't possibly be in love. I'm only 17. There's no way I've met the man I'm going to marry already.

As our friendship grew, so did our expressions of it. We found each other saying, "I love you"--but not in a romantic way, necessarily. He even came to visit me at home over Christmas break (though that was a bit of a fluke, because it was supposed to be a group of friends visiting me and when others backed out, Tony was the only one left).

Valentine's Day, 1995, he presented me with several roses and a romantic card. I responded by quietly freaking out. I gave him "The Talk"--told him things were moving too fast, that we needed to slow down. Still, my mind was screaming, This is too fast. You're only 18. You can't be in REAL love yet. He graciously accepted my words and continued being my friend.

And so we went back and forth like that for a while--him tiptoeing ever closer, and me running away when things got uncomfortable. I didn't know why I was resisting it so much--though in hindsight, I can say I was just scared of the powerful feelings that were taking over me. He came to visit me at the beginning of our summer break, and mere weeks later, I gave him the "I think we should see other people" speech.

Toward the end of the summer, during one of our routine phone calls, he mentioned that he was dating someone. He said it with a note of seriousness which I didn't catch. I brushed it off. "I know you are--I'm the one that said we should date other people," I said lightly. I even knew who she was--an old friend of his that he had been spending time with.

"No," he said quietly. "I mean, I'm dating someone."

"Oh." Without warning, tears popped into my eyes, and I quickly ended the conversation, hoping he hadn't noticed my emotions (yet knowing he had, because he knew me so well). We didn't talk much the rest of the summer.

When I got back to school in the fall of 1995, our sophomore year, one of my first orders of business (after dumping my luggage in my room) was to find all my friends--and the student common area was the place to do it. I walked in the door, looking eagerly toward the corner where we always sat. Sure enough, there was a small group of my friends--including Tony. He didn't see me at that moment, which was probably a good thing. I must have stopped dead in my tracks and stared. This was the first time I'd laid eyes on him in months, and I knew at that moment, without a doubt, that I loved him--there was no denying it anymore. But I was overcome by the feeling that I'd lost him forever to his new girlfriend.

We picked up our friendship right where we'd left off, and it didn't take us long to confess to each other that we loved each other--not just as best friends, but as something more. Tony broke up with his girlfriend shortly after, and by the end of November, we were officially a couple. Our friends rejoiced with us with a rousing chorus of "I told you so!"s.

I should mention here that Tony asked my parents' permission before he asked me to be his girlfriend. Old-fashioned? Maybe. But I thought it was a lovely gesture. Both of us knew that this wasn't just some casual fling--we knew, deep inside, that once I said yes, we would be together forever. Knowing where this relationship was leading made it only logical to get my parents' blessing.

I won't lie to you and tell you we didn't have our rough patches, but I can honestly say that we have been together ever since. Oh, I tried to break up with him once, and he flatly told me, "No." I was too baffled to know what to say.

"What do you mean 'no'? You don't have a choice when someone breaks up with you--they just break up with you, and that's it."

"No." He repeated the word again--not unkindly, but firmly, lovingly. "I know we are meant to be together--God is the one who brought us together, and He is not done with us yet." He was always so sure about us. I was too stunned to argue, and deep down inside, I knew he was right. My reason for wanting to break things off was small and insiginificant--nothing but a cover for me being scared again.

In July 1997, the summer before our senior year, Tony accompanied my family on our family vacation to New Hampshire. Tony and I followed my parents up in a separate car (since we couldn't all fit in the minivan) and spent the entire time talking about our future--where we would live, what we would do, how we would make it. He had a whole plan laid out, and I was touched by how much thought he had put into all this. He told me he planned to talk to my parents during this vacation about asking me to marry him, though he let me believe he didn't have a ring yet. (I later found out he'd been working odd jobs on Saturdays at school, making up excuses to me about what he was really doing, in order to buy me a ring.)

Talking about getting engaged and married was not strange for us, so I didn't think it odd that he wanted to talk to my parents, even if he didn't have a ring yet. I even knew what night he was talking to them--I went off to bed like a good little girl, knowing he was starting the conversation in the living room.

The next morning (July 10, 1997), my mom nonchalantly asked me if Tony and I would like to spend a little time alone together before the trip ended. Her suggestion was that they could drop us off at Loon Mountain--we could ride the gondola to the top, sightsee around the summit, and meet them back at the base for a picnic lunch. I didn't argue with the chance at some alone time (which is hard to come by when you have 4 nosy younger siblings), and off we went.

As we explored the summit, we came across a little boardwalk. We followed it and found that it led to a small platform that gave us a beautiful view of the surrounding mountains.


(This is us standing in "The Spot" 8 years later, in 2005--the only time we've been there since.)

We stood there in silence for a few moments--he stood behind me with his arms wrapped around my waist as I leaned up against the railing. We talked about a couple things, briefly, then he asked me, "So... are you ready to spend the rest of your life with me?"

I casually replied, "Yes." Like I said, it was not at all unusual for us to talk like this. But then he let go of me, and when I turned to see what he was doing, he was down on one knee. He spoke to me--and I'm sure they were beautiful, well-thought-out words, but I couldn't hear a thing. I do remember saying "Yes" when he was done, and him slipping the ring onto my finger. We hugged, kissed, and eventually returned to the way we had been standing. We stood again in silence for a few moments until I gasped, "I didn't even look at the ring yet!" I had told him I wanted a heart-shaped diamond (hopeless romantic that I am), but the only ones I had ever seen were just simple solitaires--just the diamond and a straight, non-fancy band. But when I looked down at my hand, this is what I saw.


(Just pretend the wedding band isn't there.)

It was more beautiful than I had even dreamed.

We were married on August 1, 1998, on an "unseasonably mild" summer afternoon. We honeymooned in the Poconos and then spent 2 years living in Florida before moving back to my home state, where we have been ever since.


Present Day...

And now here we are. We have reached that milestone--that 10-year anniversary. And as much as I can look back and know for sure now that that dear old man was merely joking with me, there must be a reason his words have never left my memory. Perhaps there was more truth to them than he realized. Lots of people say the first year is the hardest--and in some ways, that may be true. Maybe you could even say the first 5 years are the hardest. Or then there is the infamous "7-year itch." But regardless of whether or not any or all of those statements are true, it doesn't matter--not for us, anyway. Because we've made it past year 1, year 5, year 7, and more. And hopefully we have many more years ahead of us. Maybe I'll even someday look back and say that the first 20 years were the hardest. Or maybe someday I'll be 71 years old, celebrating my own 50th wedding anniversary, and playfully telling some young girl, "Relax. The first 10 years are the hardest. After that, it's a piece of cake." And maybe she, too, will carry those words with her forever.