Halu-Halo

Heat wave

And I'm not just talking about the weather.

We're coming to the end of the school year. There are parties being planned, presents to be given, and events to go to. And it's a little overwhelming - this storm before the calm of summer - that my daily to-do list contains sub-lists, and I can barely scratch those off.

So I was glad to have this weekend, to recharge and to kind of put everything aside for a moment. Memorial Day's true meaning of remembering the fallen made me put things in perspective. Our family has survived two long deployments thus far (and that is few compared to many military families I know), and I count my blessings each and everyday that I have my soldier here, still with us. 

Fifteen years ago, Memorial Day meant older veterans. It meant wars that were over and done with. Of history long ago. It's no longer this way. Memorial Day  also means now, it also meant yesterday, two weeks ago, and 9/11 . The face of Memorial Day has changed. It means knowing someone young with their whole life ahead of them die in war. It means knowing a family today who's had to endure the knock at the door.

As a military spouse, we live with this knowledge everyday...but after hanging our flag on Friday, reality set in hard and fast. I tossed my to-do list, and guffawed at my forgetfulness. Because the truth is this: it's really not over yet. My flag flies in memorium for everyone that has given their life for our country, but also in solidarity to keep the War Figher/Peace Keeper's spirit alive. 

Lest We Forget, and Until They All Come Home.

Happy Memorial Day, everyone.

My happy place

I will forever be indebted to the Parkside Library of San Francisco. During my late elementary and early middle school years, we lived just a few short blocks away, and it housed me for the better part of my afterschool hours and summer days. My brothers and I would roam it, as large as a space it seemed to us at the time, and we scrounged its shelves for every book appropriate for us.

It wasn't too long until I moved on from the children's section to, then, the minuscule middle grade and young adult section. It consisted of a solitary spinning rack, and there I found Judy Bloom's Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret, and Forever, and S.E. Hinton's The Outsiders and Rumble Fish.

It was then that the world opened up to me as this great big chasm of infinite possibilities.

I still feel the same way, walking into a library, whether it's on or off-post, in the chill of beautiful upstate New York, or in the heat of the great state of Texas.  And it doesn't matter to me if my book isn't available, or if I'm distracted by my little ones. Just being in the library makes me feel like the world is exactly the way it should be: peaceful, generous, creative.  

And when I walk out of the library each week with more than enough books for even a superhuman to read, I am me at 11 years old, checking out the maximum of thirteen books per visit. I am me now, eager for inspiration and imagination through the written word. And I am just like my children, looking for that next great story to talk about over dinner. 

How about you? Do you love the library as much as I do? Where is your happy place?

My Baby Brother...who's 30.

I think I am as much a helicopter sister as I am a helicopter mom. My 30-year-old baby brother is here to visit, and I've had to remind myself more than once that I am no longer his babysitting big sister, and that I should treat him like the grown man that he is (and a military non-commissioned officer, at that). 

But I can't help it. He's still 8 years old to me.

Here are some things I've had to ALLOW for him to do on his own (and completely go against my natural instincts).

1. Cross the street without grabbing for his hand. Admittedly, I reached for it, but he was already across the HELLA BUSY parking lot.  My heart dropped for a split-second, like I'd lost him or something.  

2. Order at the local Korean dive. I did, however, try to steer him to order certain items. To make sure he had a well-rounded lunch, you know? 

3. Drive the shopping cart at the crazy-crowded Asian market. I had to trust, people. I even let him go down a few rows so we could attack the grocery list together. I found him every time, of course. (whew)

4. Pay for his own check. Although, we did have a little verbal scuffle in front of the cashier. I didn't believe that being in the Air Force for 13 years earned him enough money to buy. C'mon, he's only 8! I mean...

5. Work my stove and take over my kitchen. He even sharpened one of my knives. I had to look away; I imagined myself summoning all of my RN skills to stitch him up with my sewing needle and Guterman thread. 

(He made a kick-butt Filipino dish)

6. Teach me how to cook the aformentioned kick-butt Filipino dish. I can't tell you how that totally blew my mind. Like, my little brother knows more than me? How is that even possible? Is that even allowed? 

I can't even talk about it.

7. Make me a drink. An alcoholic one.  I mean, I knew he was a part-time bartender at one point, but in my mind he was playing with kool-aid and plastic cups. Because there is NO WAY he drinks. He's way too young.

8. Teach me how to make the aforementioned alcoholic drink. I HAVE NO WORDS FOR THIS.

 

Tomorrow, I will wake up, and my baby brother will be 8 years old again. That, or I will finally have to face that he has grown up to be such a sensitive, considerate, and good man. 

NoNoNoNoNo...he's eight eight eight.

Recipe: Mom's Night In

Ingredients:

Hot Beverage

Sweet Pastry

Hecka-awesome Book

Instructions:

1. Remove contact lenses/make up/jewelry. Get into pajamas. Put hair up into a (in my case: modified-hair-is-not-quite-long-enough) ponytail.

2. Ensure all children are on their way to bedtime. (Easier said than done)

3. Prepare oneself to ignore not mind children should #2 not work.

4. Assemble all necessary ingredients.

5. Make hot beverage.

6. Eat all a piece of pastry while hot beverage cools down. Read a page or two of awesome book.

7. Read another three chapters. (Because the book will be that good) 

8. Reheat hot beverage.

9. Bring hot beverage and book to bedside. 

10. Beg Direct children to keep it down, please. 

11. Tuck tired and well-fed self in bed.

12. Read until sleep takes over.

 

I hope this recipe works for you! Have a great night everyone!

Dividing for the sleeves

I love knitting sweaters from the top-down. For you non-knitters (I must bring you over to the dark side!), that simply means knitting a sweater starting from the collar or neck, and then working your way down to the yoke. The sleeves, then, are put on "hold" (on a scrap piece of yarn), until the body is completed. Finally, the sleeves are knit in the round. 

Knitting Pure and Simple has wonderful step-by-step pictures here: http://knittingpureandsimple.com/resources/knitting-your-first/

 

(I apologize  for this horrible, super processed picture)

I am currently working on a cardi for Baby J, using this pattern. And I have divided for the sleeves (the sleeves are now on hold, and I'm on my way to finish the body of the sweater).

This is a big deal; I'm now committed.

By moving on, I am affirming that:

1.I believe in this pattern (I have read through it and understand the designer's directions. I've made my notes, looked at pictures of completed projects by other people, researched suggested modifications).

2. I love the yarn enough to make a garment with it (I've put it up to my face and neck to make sure it's soft enough. I've read reviews that this yarn holds up, and doesn't stretch or lose its form).

3. I have the stamina to get through to finish this project (I want for me/my child/my friend to be able to wear it in the end).

Can I change my mind and have the poor mess sit in my WIP basket forever and ever? Of course!  But after I've decided to divide for the sleeves, I'm pretty sure I want to get to the end of it. Through hell or high water, skipped stitches and wrong stitches, I will bind off the project, somehow.

I've recently divided for the sleeves, also, in my writing life. After months of stitching my outline together, trying on my plot, feeling it against my heart, and gauging it against my hopes and dreams, I finally felt I was ready. And I've moved on to query.

The reality: finding an agent to represent me could take months. Years!

But I've picked my story, chosen my words, rewrote them (and again, and again), done my research, and hoped that I perfected my query letter. Now it's all about stamina, and belief, and in my case, a little (A LOT) of prayer. 

Am I scared? Yes! Do I feel vulnerable? Extremely! 

But I would have never completed this dress for Sweet R had I let it intimidate me. I would have cried myself into a corner during deployments had I not been strong enough to endure those lonely nights. Surely, I will survive this too, right?

I will. I will. 

I will.

Head in the clouds... (a photoblog)

...when words just aren't enough...

My feet are now firmly back on the ground after a whirlwind of family time. :)

I hope you have a great week! See you as the dust settles...

 

WhoWhatWhenWhere?

I couldn't sleep a few nights ago, my mind wrought with a kind of restlessness. And then I realized: we're almost two years in station.

Remember about a year ago, when I had that feather up my  backside, scouring around looking for our next duty station? That was a mere tickle compared to what I feel right now.  I can feel the second year coming without orders in hand. I am both relieved and a little irritated, wondering when it will be our turn.

WhoWhatWhenWhere? 

So much hinges on that one piece of paper (and yet, for those who are on this same path, you also know that piece of paper can be replaced by another that says a completely different thing), and I have the mindset that I'm much better off knowing and adjusting, rather than guessing and spending my free moments wondering.

As if we're in dire straits over here! (NOT!) I love this area, I cherish my home and I wake knowing my environment *well*. It's a comfort not being new, and it's a relief to get to know friends without feeling the urgency to do so quickly. In my dailies, I really strive to make the most of each day, and experience it without any anxiety of having to say goodbye to where and who I consider now as home.

Most of the time, I succeed. But Dear Internets, that night I was a bouncing ball of questions; I was the epitome of mindless chatter. I was the bobble head representing military spouses worldwide, there, nodding at every moment Hubby turned a corner. 

WhoWhatWhenWhere? 

It took a good dose of cherry blossoms to have it pass. Lucky for Hubby they were so beautiful and magnificent, and peaceful.

Happy Hump Day!!

 

 

As the luck of this non-Irish would have it:

1. I'm late in posting a celebratory St. Paddy's day photo. But what the heck, it's my blog.

So, Happy St. Patrick's Day!  

But I have a good excuse!

2. I've only started to walk well today. And lift my arms. And think straight, because my brain is a muscle too, no? And since every muscle in my body was in agony until this morning, from my race this weekend (on St. Patrick's day!), I can say that today I am functioning and coherent.

It was a wonderful run through DC, and I ran my tushie off.  

I mean, I really felt like I didn't have a tushie when I woke up Sunday morning. Unfortunately, I realized this morning that it's still here :(  . I guess that means I have to run some more.

The race was a celebration of the training my cousin and I have been doing since November. She is a much faster runner than me, and it helped me immensely. It's also a bonus that she's a personal trainer. I get my training for free - ha! Lucky for me, I get beat up every weekend. 

This may be my next challenge.

3. But I've had things to keep my busy! Preparing my query (yes! Query Hell has begun!), is one; attempting to break from my manuscript to clear my mind before I attack it again is another. And this:

*insert mischievious giggle*  Oh yes, my friends...my library holds came in and I am happily inundated with such lovelies to read. My imagination runs amuck with books. (Maybe I should let it run my next half- marathon for me. No?)

So, ya'll know where I'll be this week: at home! (Stretching, reading, stretching, revising query and cursing, stretching, and crumpling paper and throwing query at the computer screen. And stretching.)

I hope you have a great weekend!

Happy Tuesday!

To raise and to Trust

I've cried twice in the last week.

And it isn't because I haven't caught up with laundry from last week's illnesses, or that the bags suitcases under my eyes aren't miraculously disappearing as promised by the uber-expensive cream I purchased last month. It isn't even because I just found out that my Big Three  are scheduled to have soccer practices at the same exact time, but in three different locations this season.

Those are small potatoes-tater tots really.

...

Last week, my first child turn eleven.

And he's such a good kid, even if my neurosis ran on overtime when he was first born. G has been my partner in this mothering journey; and he has become such a patient child as I grow with him as his parent. He's had the toughest job; I've tried everything on him first. And yet, he is cheerful and understanding, with such thriving optimism. 

I cried the night before his birthday, when I thought of how much I've had to Trust this entire experience, at each step of the way. In people, in God, and in G himself. 

The second time I cried was actually this afternoon, as I held this in my hand.

It's the 3rd revision of the manuscript I started last November, during NaNoWriMo. And it's getting better, not quite the Full Of Suck that it was as a first draft. This one is my child too, and she is growing up. And I love her so much that I've decided that she will be the first novel I will try to share with the world. 

But in order for me to do that, I have to let her go too; to Trust: in my critique partners and beta readers, that they are honest and hard, in the keeping of my own voice in every sentence that's on paper, and in my dream, despite the obstacles I know I will have to overcome.

I go to bed tonight tired but content, but not before slathering twice as much eye cream in hopes I seem somewhat rested tomorrow. 

I hope you all have a great week! Thank you for being here, to listen, throughout all of these milestones! 

I got nuthin'

Which is a good thing right about  now, because every person in my house has sumthin'.

I've got three down for the count with that awful spring bug. 

 

I've got one (well) kiddo who's working on another project that may give me another gray hair, because his last one's got nuthin' on this one. Hold me.

 

And then, I have (thank goodness) a well Baby J that has the case of the Energies. That's my sweet talk for jumpingoffthewalls.

 

Well, I lied, I do have sumthin'...

...laundry on our dining room table.  Because of the flip flop of rooms of sick people, my laundry folding has been relegated to the living room. And there has been lots of it.

And I am tired, dear Internet. 

These are my very lame reasons for not posting. I don't like not posting, I feel lost not blathering about this and that, left and right, around the corner and down the street. I feel all lost like I'd forgotten to wear my earrings, or my lip gloss.

But I am still here! And eating chocolate like it's going out of style so I can stay in tip top mama condition.

Didn't you know? That's where our superpowers come from.

I pity the fool who touches my Hershey's Kisses! Or my coffee creamer!

Okay, I will sign off now before I look any more foolish than I already do.

Good night everyone...STAY HEALTHY!!!