Monday, September 24, 2007

A Surprise of a Different Kind

**Special Message at the end!**

We took dinner to some friends tonight who just had their second baby, a beautiful baby girl. Sister loves babies. She has been asking for the longest time if she can have a baby sister and that desire seems to get stronger every time another friend has a baby.

As we were leaving their house after dropping of dinner, Sister sighed in the back seat.

"Mooooom, why can't you just have a baby?"

"Well, it takes a little while and we need to wait for Daddy to get back before we talk about that."


Starting to sweat, "Uh. Um. Uh. Because Daddy would be sad if he missed out on us getting a new baby." (Hey, she's only four and this is not the day to discuss this.)

After thinking for a moment, she got a genius idea.

"I think we should just surprise him! He likes surprises! He'd be so happy!"

No, sweetie. That's not the kind of surprise Daddies who have been away for a long time want to come home to. :)

**Let me just say, I have the best readers/friends in the whole world. You are all just the kind of friends I prayed that God would give me for these long months ahead. Thank you so much for your loving words. I'm encouraged and uplifted more than I can tell you!**

Saturday, September 22, 2007

We're Getting There

Kat asked me yesterday how we're doing with Big Daddy being gone and I realized I haven't said much about it really since he left. You know, except that post that I spit out in the midst of my sadness. We are two weeks in now and it is proving to drag by. Everyone said that the first two weeks would be the hardest and I'm counting on them to be right. The first weekend, I kept us so busy that I barely had time to think. I thought the people who said the first two weeks would be hard were wimps. Then, the first days of school came for both kids and I was S.A.D. Then, I got all spun up to host a little shindig here (read: obligatory military wife Pampered Chef party) and was so busy planning and getting the house ready for that that I didn't have time for sadness.

Then, it was all over and the house was clean and quiet. Then, I had a rock hit the windshield of the car while I was driving with the kids and in addition to scaring us all to death, cracked the windshield in a mighty way. That was all yesterday. Once the kids went down for nap, I pretty much hit rock bottom. I was praying with all my might, telling God that I just don't think I can do this without Big Daddy. I miss him so much that my insides ache when I think of him. We haven't been able to talk as much as I thought we would and email "conversations" can be tricky with the time difference. I know, it could be worse. His deployment could be longer. He could be in a much more dangerous place. None of that makes me feel better in the moments that I just want to hold him.

I did get to talk to him yesterday afternoon and today is a new day. (A new day in which I cut the grass ALL.BY.MYSELF!!) So, to make a long story even longer, I'm Ok. I think, maybe, we'll get to the point where I don't cry when the kids are asleep and the house gets quiet...maybe. Truth be told, I've only had a couple of really hard days and yesterday was one of them. Thank you for asking, Kat....I hope I didn't make you wish you hadn't. :) I promise to all of my readers that I won't be whiny through this whole deployment. This is it. If everyone is right, two weeks have passed and I should be home free. Smooth sailing and happy posts from here on out. Ok, I can't promise that but I can promise not to whine all the time!

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Brother's School Days

I know I'm late with this but ya'll, it's been one crazy week! We're all sick with allergy issues right now thanks to the change in weather but I'll suffer a stuffy head if it means cooler temps!

Anyway, Brother's first day was fabulous and he loved every second of it! When I picked him up, his teachers were giggling and telling me that they loved watching Brother dance. One said that she turned on the music and turned around to tell the kids that it was time to dance when she noticed Brother shaking his booty to the music with his eyes closed and hands in the air. I have no idea where he learned that move. Ahem.

The second day, when I came to pick him up, he was in the front of the line of kids, at the door ready to walk down the hall. I looked down at him and smiled and he met my smile with his "mean face". I asked why he was upset and he just hugged my leg and continued the grumpy look. His teacher speculated that it was probably because he was chosen to be line leader right before I came and now I was taking him away from his moment in the spotlight. I felt a little guilty but we had someplace to be so I just scooted out the door, holding brother in my arms. His little face was buried in my shoulder and I was trying to pry the details of his fun day out of him. He wasn't hearing it.

"I NEVER want to go to this school again!!"

"Brother, you love your school. Why don't you want to come back?"

"Because I don't like to line up. Lining up is not fun." All said with lips out like a duck and a very furrowed brow.

Apparently, he's over that because since Saturday, he's been asking if it was Wednesday yet so he can go back to school.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Back to School

Monday was Sister's first day back at pre-school. She was so excited!about!every!part! of the whole day! Picking out the first day outfit was a monumental affair and deciding on what she wanted in her lunch was of the greatest importance. Every detail was discussed and she was ready. She proudly climbed out of the car with a perma-smile and was ready to face the day. When I picked her up, she told me all about how wonderful her day was. She loves her new teacher and her class does all kinds of fun things. Her only complaint was that it didn't last long enough. Why did I come back so soon to pick her up? We only do half days, just like last year but apparently that's not enough for this year. Then she said that she spent most of the day talking to her new friend. Tanner. Hold on. I'm pretty sure that's a boy name. Last year, Sister wouldn't even discuss the boys in her class. If we are coming through the gate to get on base, she only wants to say hello if there's a female guard. She's so girly that her blood is pink when she scrapes her knees. And now? Her first friend for this year is a boy. Today the report was that she spent the whole time talking to her two new friends. Boy from Monday and another boy. I think the thing is that the girls in her class were mostly in the same class last year so they've already bonded which leaves her with the boys at her table. Oh boy (pun intended!) is this year shaping up to be different from last year.

Brother's first day was today. I'll have to report on that tomorrow. After my tears have dried.
I will tell you though that Sister is very concerned. Here's a conversation that happened between us a few days ago.

Sister: Mom, I am really worried and nervous.

Me: About what, sweetie?

Sister: About you.

Me: (Swinging head around from front seat) What? Why?

Sister: It's just that when Brother and Me are in school on Wednesdays and Fridays, you will be all alone and I'm afraid you won't have anything to do. What will you do, Mama? You'll be
all alone without us there. Will you be sad? (She's all about compassion.)

Me: I'm sure I'll be fine. Don't you worry about me. *Smiling at my big girl*

Monday, September 10, 2007

Pray for this Family

For quite a while, I've followed the blog of Amy Wilhoite, a young mother diagnosed with leukemia just over a year ago. I've never seen anyone face such a horrible disease with the grace and faith that Amy has. Amy passed away this afternoon and though I've never met her in real life, I feel like I've lost a friend. She's a young mom just like you and I. Her baby boy, Gary, is only 21 months old. If you have a moment to send up a prayer for this sweet family, I'm sure they'd appreciate it. If you don't know their story, browse her archives, I promise you'll be touched.

Sunday, September 9, 2007

Proof That Sentamentality Isn't My Gift

After Big Daddy left on Thursday night, I went up to get ready for bed. Seeing his clothes on top of the hamper from before his shower earlier in the evening, I had a thought. How sweet would it be if I wore his shirt to bed and that way I'd feel closer to him on his first night away? I am such a sweet and devoted wife. I slipped it on and got into bed with my book feeling all mushy about my genius ideas. The more I sat there trying to read, the more I was distracted. Finally, I got up and changed into my own shirt. Would have been a great idea if he hadn't mowed the lawn right before his that shirt.

Thursday, September 6, 2007

It is done.

For the next several months I won't be able to kiss Big Daddy. I won't be able to hold him, smell him, wait anxiously at the door for him to come home from work. There will be no nightly back rubs. There will be no goodnight kisses. My heart aches in a way that I can't explain. It could be worse, I know that. He will be back. It could be longer. Those things really don't help me feel less sad. I'm so incredibly proud of him for the job that he does. Yet, I'm so incredibly mad at the injustice of having to live without him.

I love you bigger than the world, Big Daddy. Come back home safe and soon. I can't wait to kiss you again.

Sunday, September 2, 2007

Adventures at the Salon

If there is one thing I am well known for, it has to be waiting until the last minute to get an appointment to get my hair done. This wouldn't normally be an issue except that I have a stylist that everyone just loves and she's getting increasingly harder to get an appointment with at the last minute. Last week, I called because I was completely disgusted with my hair. It went from "Ooooh, your hair is really cute!" to "Geez woman, get to a stylist immediately!" overnight. When the sweet little receptionist couldn't book me until TWO WEEKS away, I panicked and asked that she get my stylist to give me a ring when she got a break. She did and worked me in because she's awesome.

The only problem with being worked in is that it takes quite a bit longer because you are essentially sharing a time slot with someone else and while your color sits, they get attention and vice versa. No problem. I brought my book and I was set.
When my timer rang that it was time for the color to be rinsed, R (my stylist) asked the New Young Hip Guy who is working there to rinse and shampoo me. He doesn't have a client base built yet so he was pretty much just hanging out. Let's point out right from the start that New Young Hip Guy looks exactly like Seth Green, of Austin Powers and Mad TV fame.

I'm ok with this, I like Seth Green. That is until Seth, who will from this point forward be known as Gorilla Hands, started ripping the foil out of my hair. I was gripping the side of the chair trying not to look like a wuss. After all, surely he's done this before, right? Finally, I start exaggerating (but only slightly) my head motions with each pull so it looks like he's yanking my head from my neck in a game of tug-o-war. He still doesn't catch on but he's finally got them all out and it's time for the shampoo. Whew. No harm can be done in a simple shampoo. Except. It can when Gorilla Hands is on the job. At one point, I had to look back to make sure he hadn't attached a weed whacker to my head because the boy was killing me. Not only that, he kept splashing water in my face. After a few more exaggerated moves to wipe down my soaked face, I started peeking around for the hidden camera. After all, Seth Green is a notorious prankster and is always ambushing people for a laugh. I'm certain this is really him and I'm now on TV and for sure that must mean that my services here today will be free.

To ease the pain coming from my scalp and the fear of drowning that's setting in as more water is on my face than in the sink, I am thinking of all the fabulous places this little prank can take me. I could be on Oprah. This could be my big break. She'll have me on and tell me what a good sport I was about the whole ordeal and give me a vacation and a makeover complete with a reunion with my favorite teacher from fourth grade, Mrs. Mozingo.

Wake up, Heather, your scalp is on fire and no one has a camera. Gorilla Hands has slapped on some gloss and forgotten me. As the pain starts seeping down into my lower extremities from the chemical concoction, I hear him ask my stylist how long he should let "that stuff" sit on my hair.

"Two minutes."

OH.MY.LAW. Two minutes was up twenty two minutes ago. He races over to me and starts rinsing with a fury that makes our previous encounter seem like a lovely fondling to my poor scalp. After this, he moves over to rinse someone next to me and as he's rinsing her, HE SPLASHES WATER ON MY FACE. From the next bowl. Are you kidding me, Seth? Where's the camera? Where's Oprah?

When my stylist came over to complete my 'do, I thanked her for returning. When she started my scalp massage and conditioning rinse, I begged her never to take her angelic gentle hands away from me. When she checked me out, I looked at the calendar and booked an appointment four weeks in advance. I've learned my lesson about getting worked in.