26 June 2012

three things

We learned three things today:

1. The movie Brave is too scary for Yonah. (Unexpected.)

2. The movie Brave is not too scary for Arabelle. (Definitely unexpected.)

3. Lila is at that annoying stage where she is too old to nurse and snuggle quietly in the theater (in spite of timing it for nap). But she is also too young to really enjoy the movie.

It was good, though. I could pay just enough attention to know what was going on and even to (mostly) enjoy myself. And since Kim was completely oblivious to our struggles, I'm optimistic that no one else was disturbed.

All in all, a great movie and a (mostly) fun family outing. Here's to hoping next year there will be an equally good movie, and Lila will be less interested in dumping soda all over my lap when we watch it.

14 June 2012

"my" horses

I've decided to introduce you all to the retired horses I help out with. Aren't you lucky? It's only been a short time, but these two are already claiming residence in my heart.

This is Sally. She's a quarter horse in her 20's. (I want to say 24, but don't quote me on that.) Before she retired, she was a reining horse. Her eyes are mismatched and I think that makes her even more beautiful to me.

She is extremely friendly. I think she likes to be on good terms with everyone, since you never know who might bring food by.

This is Irish. He's a thoroughbred who used to be a jumper. He's also in his 20's - older than Sally by a couple years, if I remember correctly.

Fun fact: He and I are the exact same height in hands. Which doesn't sound like much until you're standing right next to him. Stepping into his stall that first time was quite intimidating. But he's such a gentle sweetheart that my nervous feelings immediately vanished.

12 June 2012

wanting change

The deployment brought into the open a lot of character flaws that I'd previously been unaware of. I wrestled with them through that year. Kim's coming home helped me to stifle them, a little. But these partially hidden flaws still affect me, like rocks just beneath the river's surface.

This last week has been . . . significant. Spiritual. There's a crossroads before me, I can sense it, feel it. There's a quiet sort of energy thrumming underneath, an anticipatory sort of excitement rising. I've been here before. A few months ago, I was too uncertain to act.

If I make the right choice here, I can break free of these things I hate about myself. I know it.

But if I hesitate . . . if I wait . . . Not choosing is in itself a choice, as I learned last time.

First I must start making time for myself each night. A time without mommyhood interruptions or technological distractions. A time to just be me as I think, journal, and pray.

This, I can do. And through this, everything else will come.

06 June 2012

not that kind of training

"Hey, Mom?" Yonah asked, staring out the car window as we drove home.

"Yeah?" I responded.

(Our conversations always seem to start like that.)

Can you believe I haven't taken any pictures of the moon?
Not even the super moon we had a little while ago.
Please accept this substitute picture. I mean,
clouds are kinda the same thing.
"Can we take everyone with us when we go to the moon tomorrow?"

I took a brief moment to think through everything we'd driven past or talked about, which might have led to this question. I couldn't think of anything that would have sparked his mind to thinking about the moon, though.

"Did you say 'the moon'?"

(A big chunk of our conversations are spent in my clarifying what he said. I hate responding incorrectly to him.)

"Yeah. The moon." He's so used to me asking for clarification that he didn't bat an eyelash. Even though he'd spoken clearly this time, and we both knew it. "You said we would go there tomorrow. You know, with our rocket?"

I really paused then. I had said that we would try to go somewhere tomorrow . . . but to the moon? "Moon" sounded nothing like what I'd been talking about. Unless my mouth had malfunctioned again. But the real problem was that he wasn't using his "I'm serious about this joke" voice. He was using the same voice he used to talk about real things, like the sun coming up every morning.

"Um. We're not going to the moon."

I caught his eyes glancing my direction in the rearview mirror. "Why?"

"Well," I said with a sigh. (I get so tired of that question. I hear it all. day. long. I love his inquisitive mind . . . but not the frequency of that one word.) "For one thing, you have to have a lot of training to go to the moon."

"Oh, like in Kung Fu Panda."

01 June 2012

a game of hide and seek

I'm going to start posting little tidbits of interactions I witness or am a part of, much like I do on Facebook. They don't really feel "blog worthy" to me; however, they do make me happy. Or, at least they make me laugh. So I suppose they have their place here.

These posts will be tagged with "that's what she/they/he said", because I honestly cannot think of a better tagline. If you can think of one, please let me know!

Y: Okay, wait until I'm ready. [runs upstairs, slams bedroom door]
A: Okay! 1 . . .
Y: [opens door] I'm ready! [slams door]
A: 1 . . .
Y: [opens door] Did you hear? I'm ready! [slams door]
A: Okay. 1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . .
Y: [opens door] Are you counting yet?
A: Yeah!
Y: [slams door]
A: 1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . 8 . . . 6 . . . 3 . . . 8 . . .
Y: [opens door] Don't find where I am, okay? [slams door]
A: [continuing counting] . . . 7 . . . 4. Ready or not, um . . . Here I come!
Y: [opens door] Are you going to find me?
A: Yeah!
Y: [slams door]