Yesterday was our anniversary. We celebrated three years of marriage, and our first anniversary day together! Since we had to make up for the two that we missed, we went all out. Andy booked us for an "introductory flying lesson" (read sight-seeing tour) with the flying club on base. The on-base connection plus the slightly skewed language made it a pretty affordable little splurge. And it was well worth it. We had a fantastic time.
We flew all around the San Juan Islands. It was really our first look at most of them--our own island has enough to explore, so we haven't had time to venture out to the others much. Our pilot knew quite a bit about each of them. He was fairly obsessed with the 'ginormous' houses strewn throughout the more secluded ones (we even saw the island that the Oakley sunglasses guy owns. Apparently he has his very own Island out here, complete with a few buildings, a road, and an airstrip! Now there's an interesting tidbit!), but we also got to see a couple of lighthouses, our own bridge onto the island (which is a sight to see in itself), Mt. Baker, Mt. Ranier, and Mt. Constitution, and of course... just the view of the beautiful green landforms jutting out of the water everywhere we looked. We hoped to see some whales, but when our pilot radioed to others to see if there were any out, the radio went nutty each time the location was given. Oh well.
A bit of Val-silliness: I was slightly intimidated by the head-gear we had to wear. I guess I got used to the Illinoisian farm-flyers and their 'just shout' philosophy. Other than that it was an absolutely amazing thing to do. I always loved the patchwork-quilt look of Illinois, but flying over the islands in the sound was really something beautiful.
Once our feet were back on the ground we headed to the middle of the island (the one we live on), for a bite to eat at our favorite restaurant. Since we were a little early we wandered around the wharf, and snapped some photos there too.
All in all it was a wonderful, wonderful day.
Friday, June 30, 2006
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Picking Strawberries
Today, Carolyn and I, along with our friend, Jamie, went to a strawberry patch nearby and picked strawberries! (What else would you do in a strawberry patch?)
I was amazed at how quickly Carolyn picked up on the concept. We hadn't been in the field for five minutes, and she'd picked a strawberry and put it in our basket. With a little coaching, she even did a good job of picking the Red ones!
She had a blast and took it all so very seriously. There was work to be done--a whole basket to fill up!
After the exercise of strawberry picking, we indulged in some ice cream to reward ourselves. Carolyn enjoyed sharing a cone with me.
I just had to share some pictures from our trip.
I was amazed at how quickly Carolyn picked up on the concept. We hadn't been in the field for five minutes, and she'd picked a strawberry and put it in our basket. With a little coaching, she even did a good job of picking the Red ones!
She had a blast and took it all so very seriously. There was work to be done--a whole basket to fill up!
After the exercise of strawberry picking, we indulged in some ice cream to reward ourselves. Carolyn enjoyed sharing a cone with me.
I just had to share some pictures from our trip.
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Court of Motherhood
Along with the joy and gooeyness that came with becoming a Mommy there came a, not entirely unexpected but nonetheless not entirely welcomed, side-effect. My guilt complex was upped tenfold. Maybe twentyfold. Ok, Ok. Probly millionfold.
Not only do I chastise myself on a daily basis for not being the kind of mother that I think I should be (you know... the kind that ONLY gives her kids organic snacks, has children on a clockwork schedule, never ever raises her voice, and has taught her children how to count to 20 by the time they are 18 months old), I also find that I am constantly looking over my shoulder to see if everyone else is chastising me too. Insecurity at it's finest? Sure!
I heard recently about a book by Allison Pearson called, I Don't Know How She Does It. In it she makes reference to what the main character calls, "The Court of Motherhood." The concept, as I heard it explained, is basically this: The Court of Motherhood is the fantasized embodiment of all of the guilt-voices coming together to judge us on a daily (or hourly) basis. The Court of Motherhood will call you to task if you accidentally forgot to give your kid lunch one day because you were so overwhelmed with cleaning the bathroom, running to the grocery store, and scrubbing crayon off of the bedroom walls while soothing tears from bumps on the head and childhood injustices, and trying to bounce your child in one arm for her entertainment. The prosecutor will summon you there if you let your child go to church without wearing tights on a day with a high of under 65 degrees farenheit.
Obviously I'm not alone in my guilt complex. There is some comfort in knowing I have company.
But why do we beat ourselves up like this? Why do we fear this judgement? Why do we get hung up on beating ourselves senseless over tiny little details and mishaps and miss the big picture--that our children are relatively happy, healthy, normal, developing little human beings? Why do Mom's expect themselves to be super-human?
Part of it, I think, has to do with the fact that we know so much is riding on our job as parents. It does pay to loosen up once in a while, but it is hard to do when each night on the evening news you here of another tragedy that happened just because a parent 'turned away for a second--just a second!' When the hospital hands you that baby and sends you out the door to figure out what it means to truly be a Mommy you realize that you have an entire LIFE depending on you.
Add in to that the fact that women are just so damn hard on one another! Whispers of, "She's so tired. Her baby isn't sleeping through the night yet. Must be because she subscribes to X type of sleep theory." "Ohmigosh! Did you hear on the news about this and this and this happening? What was that mother thinking?" We judge one another so harshly as mothers, and as women.
In thinking about it, I think it mostly comes down to fear. We're scared we'll screw up. We're scared we ARE screwing up and want to comfort ourselves that surely someone out there is screwing up MORE. We're scared that we'll lose this amazing little angel that has been entrusted to our care, and we know that we wouldn't know how to live with ourselves if that happened.
I guess my hope for myself is that I will learn to loosen up. Motherhood is an art, not a science, and I can't think of a single mother who got it right all the time. Even Mary Lost God . I will mess up. There will be times when I will turn my back for a second and I will get the scare of my life. I will slip into complacency from time to time... But I survived childhood, and so did a lot of other people... Somehow, God-willing, Carolyn will too--despite the flawed hunk of clay God decided to choose to entrust with her upbringing.
Now if I can only remember that tomorrow when I can't find her tights.
Not only do I chastise myself on a daily basis for not being the kind of mother that I think I should be (you know... the kind that ONLY gives her kids organic snacks, has children on a clockwork schedule, never ever raises her voice, and has taught her children how to count to 20 by the time they are 18 months old), I also find that I am constantly looking over my shoulder to see if everyone else is chastising me too. Insecurity at it's finest? Sure!
I heard recently about a book by Allison Pearson called, I Don't Know How She Does It. In it she makes reference to what the main character calls, "The Court of Motherhood." The concept, as I heard it explained, is basically this: The Court of Motherhood is the fantasized embodiment of all of the guilt-voices coming together to judge us on a daily (or hourly) basis. The Court of Motherhood will call you to task if you accidentally forgot to give your kid lunch one day because you were so overwhelmed with cleaning the bathroom, running to the grocery store, and scrubbing crayon off of the bedroom walls while soothing tears from bumps on the head and childhood injustices, and trying to bounce your child in one arm for her entertainment. The prosecutor will summon you there if you let your child go to church without wearing tights on a day with a high of under 65 degrees farenheit.
Obviously I'm not alone in my guilt complex. There is some comfort in knowing I have company.
But why do we beat ourselves up like this? Why do we fear this judgement? Why do we get hung up on beating ourselves senseless over tiny little details and mishaps and miss the big picture--that our children are relatively happy, healthy, normal, developing little human beings? Why do Mom's expect themselves to be super-human?
Part of it, I think, has to do with the fact that we know so much is riding on our job as parents. It does pay to loosen up once in a while, but it is hard to do when each night on the evening news you here of another tragedy that happened just because a parent 'turned away for a second--just a second!' When the hospital hands you that baby and sends you out the door to figure out what it means to truly be a Mommy you realize that you have an entire LIFE depending on you.
Add in to that the fact that women are just so damn hard on one another! Whispers of, "She's so tired. Her baby isn't sleeping through the night yet. Must be because she subscribes to X type of sleep theory." "Ohmigosh! Did you hear on the news about this and this and this happening? What was that mother thinking?" We judge one another so harshly as mothers, and as women.
In thinking about it, I think it mostly comes down to fear. We're scared we'll screw up. We're scared we ARE screwing up and want to comfort ourselves that surely someone out there is screwing up MORE. We're scared that we'll lose this amazing little angel that has been entrusted to our care, and we know that we wouldn't know how to live with ourselves if that happened.
I guess my hope for myself is that I will learn to loosen up. Motherhood is an art, not a science, and I can't think of a single mother who got it right all the time. Even Mary Lost God . I will mess up. There will be times when I will turn my back for a second and I will get the scare of my life. I will slip into complacency from time to time... But I survived childhood, and so did a lot of other people... Somehow, God-willing, Carolyn will too--despite the flawed hunk of clay God decided to choose to entrust with her upbringing.
Now if I can only remember that tomorrow when I can't find her tights.
Friday, June 23, 2006
Our First Birthday Together--A Good Day for Mountain Climbing
It's husband's birthday today, and he's home. This is the first birthday, since we've been married that we've had together (minus Carolyn's actual BIRTHday which of course we were delighted for, but that's a whole other eschalon of events). So far we've throroughly enjoyed it.
We decided to go take a hike in the state park a few miles from our house. We recently discovered 'summit trail' and we've found that, despite the fact that I usually think I'm dying about 1/3 of the way up, the reward at the top is worth it. Today we found even more "summit" to explore and got a fantastic view of the sound and the Islands in it.
Carolyn enjoyed herself... Until she fell asleep. She picked yellow flowers to match her outfit, and got lulled to sleep by the bouncing of the backpack.
We also got up close to two big, beautiful eagles. In fact, we were so close that we got a pretty decent visual of the act of Eagle Excrementation. I gotta tell ya, it's impressive. Luckily we weren't RIGHT under the eagle.
Anyway... It's good to be together on a birthday. Three years is a long time to wait for such an occurence. I'm glad that we get to celebrate husband. He deserves to be celebrated for all that he does for this family.
Time to go bake a cake!
We decided to go take a hike in the state park a few miles from our house. We recently discovered 'summit trail' and we've found that, despite the fact that I usually think I'm dying about 1/3 of the way up, the reward at the top is worth it. Today we found even more "summit" to explore and got a fantastic view of the sound and the Islands in it.
Carolyn enjoyed herself... Until she fell asleep. She picked yellow flowers to match her outfit, and got lulled to sleep by the bouncing of the backpack.
We also got up close to two big, beautiful eagles. In fact, we were so close that we got a pretty decent visual of the act of Eagle Excrementation. I gotta tell ya, it's impressive. Luckily we weren't RIGHT under the eagle.
Anyway... It's good to be together on a birthday. Three years is a long time to wait for such an occurence. I'm glad that we get to celebrate husband. He deserves to be celebrated for all that he does for this family.
Time to go bake a cake!
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Tentitive Possibilty vs. Chronic Fear of Inadequacy
Andy has been working nights this week. That combined with a bit of recovery from the fun of entertaining our family last week has truly compounded the demotivation stretch. In fact, it could be said that I'm in a slump. I am trying to remember that slumps come and go, and that chastising myself for slumping just leads to more slumpiness. Besides I don't do well when my schedule gets re-written by Andy's shift changes. It always takes me a while to recalibrate. Hopefully, we'll be back to normal next week.
I'm sitting with a pile of things beside me whispering the possiblitity of a new direction to face. And I'm scared spitless. A new vocational direction may be on the horizon (and when things become more concrete of course I'll share details, but not until things don't feel quite so tentative). It is an exciting prospect. When I finished college all I knew was that I had a teaching degree, I could be a good teacher, could even enjoy it... But it wasn't what turned me on. My brief stint as a teacher confirmed that thoroughly. It was my first year, and it was a hellish experience for any rookie to walk into, but past that it made me go, "Ok. This isn't for me." I guess I join the ranks of those alluded to in statements like, "Not everyone is cut out to be a teacher." Who knows--I may end up in a classroom again someday. I may end up needing to be there for financial reasons, or I could find out that I was all wrong about it not being 'my thing', but for now all I know is, it's not where my passion lies.
So I'm sitting on the cusp of this new possible vocational direction (see how tentative even my language is) and all I feel is inadequate. I graduated college with honors. I came out guns-blazing ready to change the world. I was raised by a mother who was a voice for feminine choice--she validated both the choice to stay home, and the choice to work outside the home... But she herself chose to work outside the home after getting me started by being home for a few years, and she was good at what she did. I always wanted to make her proud by being a force to be reckoned with in the working world, just as she was.
The thing is, I've been out of the 'working and getting educated world' for a couple of years now. My original spin through the world of work didn't last long at all. It's hard not to wonder if I copped out. But I think the truth is, I've needed to be where I've been. My life was turned topsy-turvy by a couple of military moves. It was turned topsy-turvy again by a year of wanting to be in two places at once--needing to divide time between my husband and my Mom. And then there was the small matter of my beautiful baby girl being born. I was given the opportunity to give back to my parents in some small amount, after the amazing lavishment of love and service that they poured over me all my life. Going back to Illinois gave me that chance. I was given the chance to be with my Mom for her final weeks of life without worrying about a job that might not wait for me. I've been given the opportunity to start my little Navy-brat in a stable environment where Mommy doesn't go anywhere, even if Daddy must. Those are tough tasks--Not cop-outs.
Still, I've sat confined within the four walls of our house or someone else's, contributing happily to our family stability, but not to the greater societal good, and I've begun to... feel... inadequate...
I think about what it takes to survive in the professional world and question whether or not I have it, as I sit in my exercise clothes with grease clumping in my hair for large portions of the day, biding my time til I'll have a chance to shower without interruption during Carolyn's nap.
I think about the prospect of going back to school for further education and wonder if I'm up to the task, when the simple job of emptying the dishwasher seems insurmountable on slumpy days like today.
Some days, I feel small, and prosaic. I change diapers, wipe dirty hands, do laundry, plan grocery-outings, cook suppers, and learn to conquer dust-bunnies. And some days those tasks are a struggle--how could I survive in 'the big bad world?'
Yes... I am scared spitless.
BUT... But this new possibility has been at the forefront of my mind for 9 months now. It's been nagging at me, prodding me, keeping me up late doing online searches for information. I feel like I need to honor the possibility of a new direction.
So I sit here looking at this pile of possibility, wondering if I could ever be more than, "The girl who stays at home and takes care of her husband and daughter" ever again....
And I have no choice, but to take a deep breath, and start the boulder moving. I only hope it will gain some momentum--and I, some confidence--as time goes on.
I'm sitting with a pile of things beside me whispering the possiblitity of a new direction to face. And I'm scared spitless. A new vocational direction may be on the horizon (and when things become more concrete of course I'll share details, but not until things don't feel quite so tentative). It is an exciting prospect. When I finished college all I knew was that I had a teaching degree, I could be a good teacher, could even enjoy it... But it wasn't what turned me on. My brief stint as a teacher confirmed that thoroughly. It was my first year, and it was a hellish experience for any rookie to walk into, but past that it made me go, "Ok. This isn't for me." I guess I join the ranks of those alluded to in statements like, "Not everyone is cut out to be a teacher." Who knows--I may end up in a classroom again someday. I may end up needing to be there for financial reasons, or I could find out that I was all wrong about it not being 'my thing', but for now all I know is, it's not where my passion lies.
So I'm sitting on the cusp of this new possible vocational direction (see how tentative even my language is) and all I feel is inadequate. I graduated college with honors. I came out guns-blazing ready to change the world. I was raised by a mother who was a voice for feminine choice--she validated both the choice to stay home, and the choice to work outside the home... But she herself chose to work outside the home after getting me started by being home for a few years, and she was good at what she did. I always wanted to make her proud by being a force to be reckoned with in the working world, just as she was.
The thing is, I've been out of the 'working and getting educated world' for a couple of years now. My original spin through the world of work didn't last long at all. It's hard not to wonder if I copped out. But I think the truth is, I've needed to be where I've been. My life was turned topsy-turvy by a couple of military moves. It was turned topsy-turvy again by a year of wanting to be in two places at once--needing to divide time between my husband and my Mom. And then there was the small matter of my beautiful baby girl being born. I was given the opportunity to give back to my parents in some small amount, after the amazing lavishment of love and service that they poured over me all my life. Going back to Illinois gave me that chance. I was given the chance to be with my Mom for her final weeks of life without worrying about a job that might not wait for me. I've been given the opportunity to start my little Navy-brat in a stable environment where Mommy doesn't go anywhere, even if Daddy must. Those are tough tasks--Not cop-outs.
Still, I've sat confined within the four walls of our house or someone else's, contributing happily to our family stability, but not to the greater societal good, and I've begun to... feel... inadequate...
I think about what it takes to survive in the professional world and question whether or not I have it, as I sit in my exercise clothes with grease clumping in my hair for large portions of the day, biding my time til I'll have a chance to shower without interruption during Carolyn's nap.
I think about the prospect of going back to school for further education and wonder if I'm up to the task, when the simple job of emptying the dishwasher seems insurmountable on slumpy days like today.
Some days, I feel small, and prosaic. I change diapers, wipe dirty hands, do laundry, plan grocery-outings, cook suppers, and learn to conquer dust-bunnies. And some days those tasks are a struggle--how could I survive in 'the big bad world?'
Yes... I am scared spitless.
BUT... But this new possibility has been at the forefront of my mind for 9 months now. It's been nagging at me, prodding me, keeping me up late doing online searches for information. I feel like I need to honor the possibility of a new direction.
So I sit here looking at this pile of possibility, wondering if I could ever be more than, "The girl who stays at home and takes care of her husband and daughter" ever again....
And I have no choice, but to take a deep breath, and start the boulder moving. I only hope it will gain some momentum--and I, some confidence--as time goes on.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Lavendar Fields Forever
The first day of Gramma K and Papa's visit, we went to a Lavendar farm. Gramma K took some absolutely stunning photos of the day. Carolyn weaved in and out of the beautiful lavendar. She picked flowers, and flitted about as happy as could be.
Time Together
These are just a few photos Carolyn and her Gramma K and Papa Mike enjoying one another at the house. Carolyn got quite used to being THE center of attention. She loved reading books with Gramma and Papa, playing, singing, and being silly altogether.
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