The Sorrow

I've been trying to write this piece for a month. I keep putting it off. Maybe, in some way, I know that posting it makes it real. Makes it final. So instead of trying to write, and rewrite and procrastinate more, I am just going to post it.

My grandpa died last month. He was 98, and had outlived almost everyone he knew, including his wife of 70 years, my beloved grandma who died almost one year ago. We were all really surprised that he lasted as long as he did after grandma went, we all figured he would go within weeks, if not days of her.

I took the kids and went up to see him when we were in the states in June/July of this year. I said my good byes. He had a few lucid moments while we were there - asked me about David (who couldn't travel with us to Alabama at the time) and how I liked living overseas. He played with the kids - he could wiggle his ears and it used to amuse the hell out of me when I was little and it was no different for Blaine, he thought it was a riot. The day we left, he hugged and kissed me and told me how much he loved me and then said "I don't expect to see you again". He was my last living grandparent. I was so lucky to have been able to know him and my grandmother as an adult and to have had such a wonderful relationship with them both. I'm not a big believer in God, but I do believe that my grandmother was waiting for him because their souls are destined to be together. I'm glad he is out of his pain and suffering - the last few months have been very hard on his body. I am glad he is at peace. But as glad as I am that the suffering has ended, I'm still sad and weepy because he's gone.

The hardest part of him being gone is that it is truly the end of an era for our family. Every summer vacation was spent on the farm. The past few years have seen my parents going to the farm a few times a year (a 14 hour drive) because of my grandparents' poor health. But even when my grandparents started failing (to use a very southern term), their house was always a vibrant gathering place. Friends, family, neighbors - the word always got out when my mom was in town and everyone would come to sit a spell and visit. Even after my grandmother could no longer whip up a feast that she would modestly call "Sunday supper" everyone would still come down. Only now, it was usually my dad doing the cooking. My grandmother loved it when her son-in-law was in the kitchen - she loved it when he cooked Thanksgiving dinner for them.

So many memories, so much history, so many wonderful times. All of them happened in that small, green country house. Now all that's left is the empty house and what I hold in my heart.

And now is the time on Muscat Love ven ve DANCE

Rock on, little man. Rock on.



Blaine Rocks Out from dogzilla on Vimeo.

The joy

The joy is Kyra. Our wonderful, sweet, adorable (and only occasionally evil) daughter celebrated her 2nd birthday yesterday. We had a small, quiet celebration at our home and today we had the big party at a local children's play place called Busy Bees. Kyra and 10 of her friends had a blast.

Having Kyra is amazing. She's so completely different from Blaine. She's much bolder. More fearless than Blaine, but also much, much more cautious. She takes more risks, but they are calculated risks. I'm frequently asked something like "is that your daughter standing at the top of the tall slide?" I just nod and smile because I know she's fine. If that had been Blaine at the same age, I would have been hovering beneath, waiting for the inevitable fall.

She still has problems expressing herself. We are working with her and the speech delay. It's fun to see her learning new words and trying out new signs. Her sign language skills are amazing and she is using her signs as a bridge to language. She now can say "dog" and "cat" but only if she is making the sign at the same time. My dad likes to say that I would be mute if you tied my hands behind my back, so I guess Kyra will be following in my footsteps and will be a very visual speaker, using her hands to get her point across. Make no mistake, however. She has no problem getting what she wants when she wants it. She may not be able to speak the words, but she knows how to make herself understood.

She is still our Princessa Hooliganka and we wouldn't change a thing. She brings such joy to our lives everyday. Pure, unadulterated joy. Happy birthday baby girl. We love you.

Merry Christmas

The ball I had at the Ball

This past week we celebrated the Marine Corps birthday with the annual Marine Corps Ball. Even though David isn't here, I was still planning on attending since the Ball is usually the party of the year. This year was no exception, it was the party to end all parties, started off a bit formal (as they all do) but by the end of the night everyone was dancing and laughing and just having a great time. Or, as the title of this post claims, having a ball at the Ball.

I didn't have to go dateless, as originally planned. A good friend of mine also has a husband who was out of the country during the ball, so she was my date. I have to say, going to the Ball with David last year was great, but going to the Ball with Wendi this year was pretty damn good as well. So good, in fact that we are going steady now. (Kidding!) But seriously, don't we make a cute couple?



Semper Fi, Marine Corps. See you at the ball next year.

My kid is weirder than your kid

I've blogged about this before, my kids and their lack of lovies. Well, Kyra now has adopted a lovey at the ripe old age of 22 months (today! Happy Birthday Kyra!).

Now, most kids have a doll, or a blanket or a pacifier. Pshaw. Not my kid.

The doll I tried to give her to nap with today? She's here, face down on the floor where she was thrown from the crib. Damn doll trying to take up my baby's sleeping space! Interloper! Behold the doll's resting place:

That doll, by the way, is so soft and cuddly (and comes with her own lovey, a nice soft pink blanket) that I would want to curl up with her. But no. Instead my daughter has attached herself to something a bit more unusual. Something left over from my days, oh so long ago before she was even a twinkle in my eye, when I worked in the publishing industry as a production editor. My daughter's lovey? A metal pica ruler. Sweet dreams baby girl.

See, my kid is weirder than your kid.

Spamming my own blog

Dave is still gone, I'm still getting used to working again and dammit, I'm tired. Too tired to blog. Well, either I'm too tired or too lazy, take your pick, but I just can't get it together to write a whole entry about something interesting. Or even something not so interesting. Instead I will SPAM my own blog with pictures. It's the lazy girl's guide to blogging!

Here's Blaine on the USS Wasp, doing an interpretive dance I call "ode to a big ass helicopter":

Here's the boy again on the USS Wasp. I call this one "I'm the coolest dude on this ship":

Here's Kyra on Halloween. Now, I know you might be asking yourself "I know she says she is tired, but couldn't she at least have gotten her kid a costume?" Well, I did. My girl was supposed to be Wonder Woman. I ordered it early, had to have it shipped to my parent's house and then they reshipped it to me. I jumped through hoops to get her this costume and she was going to look awesome. Then she refused to wear it. And here I'm using "refused" as a euphemism to mean "Screamed bloody murder, grabbed costume from my hands, wadded it up in a ball and threw it in the garbage can." Yes. She hated the costume that much. Instead, I put a striped dress on her and if anyone asked I said "Oh, she's a gypsy!"

Here are Blaine and Kyra at yet another Halloween party. Blaine is decked out in his Spider Man costume (now with extra muscles! I love that the super hero Halloween costumes come with built in muscles now. It cracks me up.) Kyra, once again, refused to wear her costume. The gypsy dress was dirty so this time I put on a froofy, frilly dress and told everyone she was a princess. Hey, a mom's gotta do what's she gotta do.

Blaine started swimming lessons today. Well, actually, he started swim lessons about 4 weeks ago as part of his PE class at school. Today he started a recreational swim class. Held at his school. Taught by the same teacher who teaches his PE swim class. He is in the beginner class, but by the end of the 30 minute session today, he was doing awesome. He will even put his face in the water now without goggles on. I never thought it would happen:

See? Look, he's totally under the water. Swimming like a fish! Of course he only stays under for about 5 seconds, but everyone has to start somewhere, right?

And we can't have a picture blog without at least one cheeze face. I blame Blaine for teaching her this. It's hard to get a non-cheeze picture of either of my kids now. Sigh.