Now we are perfectly here:
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Lukeipedia
I don't want to forget his vocabulary as it currently exists. Oh little man, do you make our days shine with your witty words and smiley squinty eyes.
He has trouble with oo sounds..he calls himself Luck
His sippy cup is a bobby and sometimes when he's feeling particularly happy it is referred to as a bobby bob-oh
Pillow is a billpoh
Chips are pips
His blankies are bankies
The playground he lovingly calls The Wagon
A wagon is just that, a wagon
Fire trucks are gah-gung-gungs. We don't get it either. They are also called E-O's. Like the sound they make
He can perfectly say eyebrow
Love is another good one
Cold can be easily translated to colden. Ending words with "en" is popular as drawing is often referred to as drawden and water can sometimes be heard wateren.
Fish is pretty straightforward
cado is short for avacado
juice and melk are easy
orge for curious george
Poop is pup
when asked what you get the grocery store he replies Appies (for apples) and Bnanas or ninas
I know there are more but these are high on the list of awesome Luke-speak
He has trouble with oo sounds..he calls himself Luck
His sippy cup is a bobby and sometimes when he's feeling particularly happy it is referred to as a bobby bob-oh
Pillow is a billpoh
Chips are pips
His blankies are bankies
The playground he lovingly calls The Wagon
A wagon is just that, a wagon
Fire trucks are gah-gung-gungs. We don't get it either. They are also called E-O's. Like the sound they make
He can perfectly say eyebrow
Love is another good one
Cold can be easily translated to colden. Ending words with "en" is popular as drawing is often referred to as drawden and water can sometimes be heard wateren.
Fish is pretty straightforward
cado is short for avacado
juice and melk are easy
orge for curious george
Poop is pup
when asked what you get the grocery store he replies Appies (for apples) and Bnanas or ninas
I know there are more but these are high on the list of awesome Luke-speak
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Cattails in the fall
We took a family walk this week along the bike trail. The trees are turning, leaves are beginning to fall and the cattails, oh those cattails are blooming. The sight of them to the right of me with my family strolling in front of me brought me back to 1984, the muddy grounds of the Warren County airport underfoot, holding onto my mother's hand as we maneuvered the landscape in search of the perfect spot to watch the hot air balloons rise around us. The cattails were blooming then too and as we walked I remember her telling me an intricate tale about cats (I was obsessed with all things kitten) and that maybe, just maybe we could snip one of those cattails to take home. Later that morning the four of us sipped hot cocoa at a diner and in my 8 year old mind life was simply perfect.
For most of my childhood I believed that every kid lived in a two story home with a mom, a dad and a sibling. I also assumed every kid had two sets of grandparents, both of them quite different, but both equally loving. I thought every mom scoped out the clouds to find pictures in the sky, could draw like a real artist (this came in handy for book reports) and knew how to make a killer cake. All dads were strong military men, intensely honest and community oriented, but were also soft as teddy bears. Naive I know, this ideal world I lived in.
The balloons will be flying high all about us this week with the cattails blowing in the breeze and picturesque story filled clouds overhead. I hope Luke and Ellie remember these purely ideal moments of what it is to be a family. The simple hand-holding and discovery. The sharing of a warm drink on a cool morning complete with muddy boots and an afternoon nap. Sweet perfection.
For most of my childhood I believed that every kid lived in a two story home with a mom, a dad and a sibling. I also assumed every kid had two sets of grandparents, both of them quite different, but both equally loving. I thought every mom scoped out the clouds to find pictures in the sky, could draw like a real artist (this came in handy for book reports) and knew how to make a killer cake. All dads were strong military men, intensely honest and community oriented, but were also soft as teddy bears. Naive I know, this ideal world I lived in.
The balloons will be flying high all about us this week with the cattails blowing in the breeze and picturesque story filled clouds overhead. I hope Luke and Ellie remember these purely ideal moments of what it is to be a family. The simple hand-holding and discovery. The sharing of a warm drink on a cool morning complete with muddy boots and an afternoon nap. Sweet perfection.
Friday, September 4, 2009
September 14, 2001 to September 3, 2009
The date was Friday, September 14, 2001. I found myself in Manhattan's Union Square amidst a sea of protesters and peace-loving folk as fighter jets flew overhead and smoke still smoldered to the south. I was torn. Longing to be part of something during this scary time, missing my family and the comfort and security of a small town I clung to whatever it was I could. However at this moment, three days afterward, I just wasn't ready for peace. If I had lost someone that day I really wouldn't have been ready for forgiveness. In those moments I tried, under that crisp, clear, beautiful blue sky I stood there and cried, I was speechless. The world was spinning, but I was standing still. I watched the protesters in slow motion chanting and waving their signs as I looked down Broadway to Ground Zero. As the daughter of a Naval Master Chief and the sister of a fireman, my heart was with the military, the firemen, their families and the grieving. It all seemed like a twisted movie.
My office building was a shrine to the missing. Armed guards stood on both ends of our block as our building was attached to the Lexington Street Armory where they were sending family members of the missing. Candles and notes, pictures and teddy bears, flowers and poems were taped up covering a huge portion of the building. It was eerily sad to see those faces looking at you everyday and to read the handwritten notes.
My mom was the first person I called when it happened. The relief in her voice was one I hope to never have to experience as a mother. My father told me that night that he was going to drive down and bring me home but I refused. The next day he and I had a long phone conversation about faith, hope and love and I remember both of us crying. We cried so hard we made each other laugh.
I've lost touch with some of the people whom took me under their wing that fateful day. My mom called to thank them which I remember being embarrassed by, but I get it now. Misunderstandings seemed so trivial then and easier to get through, but I guess time marches on now.
I remember looking out the kitchen window of my apartment which looked into the living room of an apartment across the way where I saw a family huddled together playing Scrabble. It was incredibly heartwarming but it also left me in with a heavy heart for that is what I longed for in those moments.
That weekend, just as I had ventured to the peace demonstration with my roommate she ventured to Catholic church with me that Sunday. I needed a dose of normalcy, of some routine that felt comfortable while to her it was I'm sure more of an experience. The closing song was God Bless America, as I sang the tears came once again, my voice barely able to crack a note as my throat was in one big knotty lump.
Yesterday I had to run a few errands for work and as I walked to the car I heard God Bless America played through the church bells. The sky was as blue and beautiful as that Tuesday. The bells stopped me in my tracks, transporting me back to those moments. I looked around at my city, at what I've been able to contribute, at the car with our two car seats in the back and I smiled. I am so lucky to be here, to have this life, and my God am I blessed.
Those dark days will never leave my memory but I have come through it all to realize those dreams and to create the life I longed for.
Ironically as I drove through my beloved and longed for East End of Glens Falls I heard this song and the tears, they came again. I will never forget, I will always remember and honor those days.
Where were you when the world stopped turning that September day
Out in the yard with your wife and children
Working on some stage in LA
Did you stand there in shock at the site of
That black smoke rising against that blue sky
Did you shout out in anger
In fear for your neighbor
Or did you just sit down and cry
Did you weep for the children
Who lost their dear loved ones
And pray for the ones who don't know
Did you rejoice for the people who walked from the rubble
And sob for the ones left below
Did you burst out in pride
For the red white and blue
The heroes who died just doing what they do
Did you look up to heaven for some kind of answer
And look at yourself to what really matters
I'm just a singer of simple songs
I'm not a real political man
I watch CNN but I'm not sure I can tell you
The difference in Iraq and Iran
But I know Jesus and I talk to God
And I remember this from when I was young
Faith hope and love are some good things he gave us
And the greatest is love
Where were you when the world stopped turning that September day
Teaching a class full of innocent children
Driving down some cold interstate
Did you feel guilty cause you're a survivor
In a crowded room did you feel alone
Did you call up your mother and tell her you love her
Did you dust off that bible at home
Did you open your eyes and hope it never happened
Close your eyes and not go to sleep
Did you notice the sunset the first time in ages
Speak with some stranger on the street
Did you lay down at night and think of tomorrow
Go out and buy you a gun
Did you turn off that violent old movie you're watching
And turn on "I Love Lucy" reruns
Did you go to a church and hold hands with some stranger
Stand in line and give your own blood
Did you just stay home and cling tight to your family
Thank God you had somebody to love
I'm just a singer of simple songs
I'm not a real political man
I watch CNN but I'm not sure I can tell you
The difference in Iraq and Iran
But I know Jesus and I talk to God
And I remember this from when I was young
Faith hope and love are some good things he gave us
And the greatest is love
I'm just a singer of simple songs
I'm not a real political man
I watch CNN but I'm not sure I can tell you
The difference in Iraq and Iran
But I know Jesus and I talk to God
And I remember this from when I was young
Faith hope and love are some good things he gave us
And the greatest is love
The greatest is love
The greatest is love
Where were you when the world stopped turning that September day
Monday, August 31, 2009
New beginnings
I have so much to chronicle.
Ellie is crawling all over the place and has finally started to enjoy eating table food. Well I say "enjoy" loosely, it means really that she tolerates it, gets that it should be something she puts in her mouth and not some foreign object that will be projectiled out all over me.
Luke is starting to put sentences together: "Mama, backhoe is hidin." I love that he knows what a backhoe is but cannot for the life of him say "construction trucks" that comes out as "dung gun gungs".
He immediately removes his shoes when he get in the front door and wants his baseball cap hung up on the hook. Everything in it's place you know.
And! He pees in the potty nearly every night.
They are growing and changing and so am I.
I just submitted a little essay to a writing contest. I'm sure it's more amateur than anything but at least I challenged myself and did it. I also have taken on another challenge. A triathlon. Yeah, you read that right. It's next July, I have time and I thank Amanda for the push.
We never stop growing, there's always something new around the corner and regardless life is too short to sit idly by. Regret be damned. Ellie isn't going to just sit on the floor wondering what it's like to be mobile so I'm not either.
Ellie is crawling all over the place and has finally started to enjoy eating table food. Well I say "enjoy" loosely, it means really that she tolerates it, gets that it should be something she puts in her mouth and not some foreign object that will be projectiled out all over me.
Luke is starting to put sentences together: "Mama, backhoe is hidin." I love that he knows what a backhoe is but cannot for the life of him say "construction trucks" that comes out as "dung gun gungs".
He immediately removes his shoes when he get in the front door and wants his baseball cap hung up on the hook. Everything in it's place you know.
And! He pees in the potty nearly every night.
They are growing and changing and so am I.
I just submitted a little essay to a writing contest. I'm sure it's more amateur than anything but at least I challenged myself and did it. I also have taken on another challenge. A triathlon. Yeah, you read that right. It's next July, I have time and I thank Amanda for the push.
We never stop growing, there's always something new around the corner and regardless life is too short to sit idly by. Regret be damned. Ellie isn't going to just sit on the floor wondering what it's like to be mobile so I'm not either.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
The irreverent 'rents are we
His hands were covered in pizza sauce, her face was barely visible through the apples and apricots strewn from ear to ear, and there was me and John between them playing referees.
I had made homemade pizza, Luke's favorite and Ellie was armed with two jars of Earth's Best baby food. Easy night, peaceful meal we thought. Most nights Luke picks at this or that, sometimes he'll lap it up (french toast, spaghetti, couscous, avocado, quesadillas and mac'n cheese are always homeruns), and some nights he takes one look at what I have served before him looks at me like, "are you friggin kidding me?" scrunches up his nose and hands it back. Tonight though he knew it was pizza and couldn't wait for it to be ready.
We had worked all day cooking food for the week, cycling the laundry, and organizing some kitchen cupboards as they took simultaneous 4 hour naps. Of course it felt good to get some much needed work done but once we were ready to take a break they woke up, so onward to dinner it was. John started Ellie off who repeatedly would hit the spoon with her flailing hands sending the strained food in the air, hitting the wall, her face, and all over her lap. The more he tried the more food went everywhere but in her mouth, so we switched, I fed her and he entertained Luke as the pizza cooled.
We cut strips of pizza for Luke, of course, just the way he likes it. Ellie ate and played and we danced between them. Luke decided the pizza was too crusty and was done with it after only a few bites when he started handing his saucy strips back to us, nearly landing them on the floor as Ellie hacked and coughed like a degenerate trucker.
We were tired, our kids were playing us like fiddles and we just wanted 5 minutes to eat in peace. John leaned in with a wink and said, "You know these dinner guests really suck."
We cracked up and couldn't stop laughing. They're lovely, beautiful children but sometimes you just gotta tell it like it is.
I had made homemade pizza, Luke's favorite and Ellie was armed with two jars of Earth's Best baby food. Easy night, peaceful meal we thought. Most nights Luke picks at this or that, sometimes he'll lap it up (french toast, spaghetti, couscous, avocado, quesadillas and mac'n cheese are always homeruns), and some nights he takes one look at what I have served before him looks at me like, "are you friggin kidding me?" scrunches up his nose and hands it back. Tonight though he knew it was pizza and couldn't wait for it to be ready.
We had worked all day cooking food for the week, cycling the laundry, and organizing some kitchen cupboards as they took simultaneous 4 hour naps. Of course it felt good to get some much needed work done but once we were ready to take a break they woke up, so onward to dinner it was. John started Ellie off who repeatedly would hit the spoon with her flailing hands sending the strained food in the air, hitting the wall, her face, and all over her lap. The more he tried the more food went everywhere but in her mouth, so we switched, I fed her and he entertained Luke as the pizza cooled.
We cut strips of pizza for Luke, of course, just the way he likes it. Ellie ate and played and we danced between them. Luke decided the pizza was too crusty and was done with it after only a few bites when he started handing his saucy strips back to us, nearly landing them on the floor as Ellie hacked and coughed like a degenerate trucker.
We were tired, our kids were playing us like fiddles and we just wanted 5 minutes to eat in peace. John leaned in with a wink and said, "You know these dinner guests really suck."
We cracked up and couldn't stop laughing. They're lovely, beautiful children but sometimes you just gotta tell it like it is.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Cold Play
Both kids have coughs that I can only explain to be smokers coughs. I've been fighting a little something that has turned my voice into what the boss described yesterday as sounding a bit too close to Carol Channing.
*sigh*
Their eyes are accompanied with red bags beneath them, their bodies clammy, and simple tasks seem to exhaust them. Teething? Summer colds? I'm holding out hope that this subsides and that sleep is all they need. Man we were blessed with one month of health since Luke's surgery. It was bliss. Please coughs and ickies, go away.
*sigh*
Their eyes are accompanied with red bags beneath them, their bodies clammy, and simple tasks seem to exhaust them. Teething? Summer colds? I'm holding out hope that this subsides and that sleep is all they need. Man we were blessed with one month of health since Luke's surgery. It was bliss. Please coughs and ickies, go away.
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