Month: March 2013

Easter Egg

You found it — an egg’s worth of blog photos!
From this weekend
She really did pick this out to wear to church
Proof that I do let her go out like this in public. Rock on baby girl. You look great.
While sitting in church on Friday (Friday is our Sunday so we did a combo Good Friday/Resurrection Sunday service) I was thinking that it really is amazing that Christ chose to die for the world because if it were up to me, humans would be doomed. I’d be more likely to send a plague of lightning bolts to wipe them all out. I saw one family letting their kids play Grand Theft Auto on ipads throughout the entire service: guns blazing, things blowing up . . . yep, that’s totally what 8 and 10 year olds should be doing during the most significant religious celebration of the year. And the woman who got up in the middle of the sermon and came back 10 minutes later with 2 big Starbucks coffees? I’d send her a plague of flies or maybe a tongue disease so she couldn’t enjoy coffee anymore (logical consequences, you know). And that chick in the back row who was busily judging people instead of taking the Good Friday message of mercy and grace and redemption to heart? Oops, that one was me. Like I said, good thing the future of the human race doesn’t rest in my hands. 
After church — grabbing groceries before heading to brunch with friends
Family day on base Saturday morning. The kids ran in the 2 mile run around the base. 
Carter came in 3rd/4th overall (he swears he leaped past #3 at the last second). 
Calvin finished second overall (I think the age span of kids running was 4 to 14)
Caleb told me he won for his age group
When I asked him how he knew he won, he said, “I’m just guessing.” He does not have a self esteem problem.
After the race they had family exercise classes. She joined us for Pilates.
Pretty good form for “donkey kicks.”
Finished off the day with carnival games and balloon animals. 
Today we kept the kids home from school (the school only observes Muslim holidays because the support staff is made up of locals) and went to the Protestant service on base at noon. It was a blended service with hymns, praise music, gospel songs, liturgical dance and people were dressed in everything from Easter dresses and hats and suits to work clothes and cammies. I would say it’s not a normal Easter for us, but when every year is different, who decides what normal is? 

still not here, but signs of life

Last night I was going through the archives of my blog, trying to find the name of the hotel we stayed at in Istanbul with the fantastic view of the Blue Mosque (Hotel Uylan, highly recommend it btw) and I was so proud of what I had created. This amazing and funny compilation of all these unique experiences with accompanying photographs. Calvin with long hair, a totally bald and barely walking Camille, street food and street cats . . . I miss that blog and that blogger. But 5 years from now I know I’ll be just as charmed by the mundane and daily remembrances as I will be by the big adventures. The post where I describe missing Lucy and my inability to wash dishes without spraying water all over the kitchen brings me right back to my kitchen in Oman and Camille perched on the counter, “helping” Lucy and chewing on a raw carrot. A scene that would have been buried under a million other thoughts if I hadn’t taken the time to write it down. Which confirms that I will go back to writing it down, just not today. I’m still searching for my funny bone — I think I broke it and it’s no fun blogging without it.

I’m sort of waiting for a particular issue to resolve in my life/our lives, because until it does, everything I do is shaded by that. Life in the military means never making future plans with any real certainty, but I’m waiting for the bitterness to pass so my blog doesn’t become one big whine about the injustice and ridiculousness of it all.

But to reassure you that our lives aren’t all darkness and whines I’ll share this short exchange that happened in the car the other day:

Caleb, on the way home from school: “Mom, you’re going to be so proud . . . you know how I’m not Chinese. . . ?”

And then he couldn’t finish his story because Josh and I were laughing so hard and so loudly for the next 5 minutes that he couldn’t get a word in between our overlapping belly laughs. And as soon as I’d wind down, I’d think about how my son wasn’t Chinese and it would start all over again.

(When we finally got around to hearing the rest of the story, it turned out he got a check+ (basically an A/B or an Excellent) on an assignment on writing/drawing Chinese numbers. Pretty amazing for a kid who’s not Chinese!)

On another positive note, look at my crazy dog hanging out with the 30 people (adults and kids) we had over to our house last night! He’s still nutty in his own special way, but we were very proud that he trotted around getting hugs and ear scratches from everyone without freaking out. (Thank God for Zoloft . . .)

Don’t mind me, I’m not actually here . . .

It’s probably a really good thing that I’m not blogging right now. Life has irritated me the past week or so and it’s better that I’ve been keeping all my venting and imaginary conversations to myself. BUT, my mom asked in an email if Camille had done anything cute lately and it’s always better to show, rather than tell:

PS: don’t let the sweetness fool you — they are both loads of trouble.