Little girls, little girls, everywhere I turn I can see them...

As we have been settling into our new home in Hampton Roads, Virginia (we found a great rental in Yorktown), we had a very shocking but pleasant surprise. Another addition! John was in shock for nearly as long as I was, but came to when the "macho" factor kicked in. Due to my PCOS (polycystic ovary syndrome), I was told for years that having children would require some significant medical intervention. Thanks to God's grace, that was not the case with Emily! And thanks to God's humor, it's not the case with this one, who we temporarily named "Skippy" (if male) and "Missy" (if female). While not discrediting God's hand in all this, John does seem pretty pleased with his fertility track record. This is certainly a family trait on his side in particular: at his grandmother's funeral mass earlier this month, all of her 11 surviving children as well as a huge chunk of her 35 grandchildren and 51.5 great-grandchildren were present. That's just his dad's side...

I'd just had laser vision correction this winter and had unfortunately not been healing quite as well or as completely as we'd all expected, so realizing I was pregnant as I was scheduling the enhancement to fix my eyes was not the most pleasant of surprises. Given that I can't have the surgery for several months after being pregnant or breastfeeding, that nixes the next few years. YIKES! But I quickly made peace with less-than-fabulous vision if it's the sacrifice necessary for another blessing. Heaven knows the first one turned out pretty wonderfully.

Emily is beside herself with joy and excitement, asking the most hilarious questions: does de baby yike pizza rolls? is it dark in there with the baby? I haf to get a bwanket to keep de baby warm, Mama! John frequently laughs that this poor kid will have two mommies.

And great news--it's another GIRL!!! We had a thorough ultrasound last week and are really delighted that we'll be having another daughter. People kept asking me what I wanted, and I could truly say that I was thrilled with either one. I would dearly love to have a son, yet I also have loved every moment of having a daughter. Talk about a win-win. John very diplomatically (and I believe honestly) answers: "Happy healthy mom; happy healthy baby". (The guy is still recovering from the rather terrifying experience we all had during Emily's birth, but I keep reassuring him that there's no danger of a repeat for many reasons.)

Amusingly, a week and a half ago I gave into John's lobbying to adopt a cat from PetSmart. I can't believe I gave in to this, as I now have 2 and sometimes 4 children, and now 3 furry critters as well. Smudge, as we've named the fuzzy black/gray cat, is a truly hilarious cat and also a male... now that we know which flavor o' kid this one will be, I suspect John was just trying to boost the testosterone level in his life, given that he is now afloat in an ocean of estrogen. Poor guy. But I don't worry too much as I watch the way he and Emily each have the other wrapped around one another's fingers. Everything they say about daddies and their daughters is true.

This one is due in November, literally a few days before Emily's due date. If she is anything like her big sister, we may well wind up with all four of us having October birthdays! John is certainly hoping for that, as dates are not his strongest suit. Having all the birthdays in October would at least narrow the field for the poor guy. We'll see what happens!

I've been to Reno, Chicago, Fargo, Minnesota, Buffalo...

Yep, we're on the move again. After two years in the land of rainbows, we're on our way back to the East Coast. It feels like 'back to the future', given that we've both lived in that time zone for much of our lives, but both John and I are new to the Hampton Roads area. I just have to keep reminding myself that it's nothing like the DC metro area!!

As always, there are a lot of mixed emotions. While we would never dream of settling in Hawaii for many, many reasons, going for long walks/jogs/bike rides along sapphire-blue water lined with palm trees in the morning is a joyful part of my life. Being able to go outside any day is a delight when one has a toddler. And there are some people here who will forever be a cherished part of my life.

But we're focusing on the positive and getting fairly excited about it. A large concentration of our family is on that side of the US, so we'll be within a day's drive of most of our family. After being six time zones away in one direction or the other, this will be a wonderful change. Considering I almost went to William & Mary, I obviously love the area and the historical aspects of it. And of course, living near the water again makes me a happy camper. I've been looking for churches already and think I may have already found the one God has planned for us, so my excitement level is building quickly.

And I'll need it. This will be my fourth move and fifth location in five years. Yikes. At least I'm not moving 12 time zones at once with a cat and an infant; going without all of your household goods for 4 months with a child that age is a bit of a challenge (though we did quite well after mailing a few boxes ahead). Granted, we'll be doing this move with a nearly-preschooler, aforementioned cat, and now a dog who is NOT a happy traveler, but the time zoneage has been cut in half.

We'll have our things packed out in early September and hope to see them again sometime in early November. It's a little stressful trying to figure out what you send, what you send in the "quick shipment" (the stuff that's only in transit for a month or so), and what you'll pack. Emily's always been pretty adapatable, so I'm hopeful that this will go well. And this will make 64 time zones or so that she's flown over before she turns 3. She should get her own level of frequent flyer miles.

I lay in bed early this morning and listened to Reveille, feeling that sense of farewell that I get before another move. This was our first experience living on base, and it was perfect given the options. Unlike most other locations, we both really loved it. My best girlfriend here, Diana, and I have talked frequently about the uniqueness of military life and the experience of family life on a military base. How many people are sent off to sleep with Taps and awakened by Reveille? How many have the opportunity to teach their two-year-old to stop what she's doing, place her hand over her heart, and stand still through the broadcast of the national anthem at 1630? (Yeah, she does. It's incredibly cute. Along with the stage-whispers of "ssssss, moosic tow-wer, hand, heart!")

The best news of last week was finding out that Diana and Craig are also leaving in a few months. They're heading to DC, so they'll be within driving distance. This is the absurdly gorgeous family with five beautiful boys who have been our buddies since we all got here at the same time two years ago. Seriously, it's like the Catholic Stepford Family. The Pascoes came from Japan, we from Germany, and we hit it off from the minute we met at orientation. When I came to the two older boys' first Holy Communion, Diana made such a fuss and said, "You know, in this life we never get to have family come to these types of events. You being here is our family." In her words, she and I are two peas in a pod, while John and Craig are very similar as well. It helps "the boys" to realize they're not alone in being married to spunky and outgoing girls. Saying goodbye to Diana was the part of leaving Hawaii that has been causing me the most sorrow, so I'm pretty pumped that we'll be in the same state again soon.

Odd thing is... I think I've forgotten how to dress in cold(er) weather. And I have no idea how to dress a little girl! The concept of closed shoes is a foreign one to this beach baby, so this should be interesting. Of course, our families--both from Pennsylvania--will scoff at the idea of considering southeastern Virginia 'cold', and I would have laughed at that idea most of my life as well. We'll see what happens, and I'm eagerly looking forward to seeing SEASONS again!!!

Off go to work on my PCS notebook again.

Land of the Free, Home of the Brave

Happy Memorial Day. We celebrated by doing the ever-so-traditional round of miniature golf (Emily's first experience), which was a lot of fun because in a major upset, John and I actually tied. That reminds me that I have some updating to do regarding golf, the 'sport' I have long held in contempt.

Over this long weekend, I finished Bible study homework while safely in my home. With no apprehension, I made arrangements to meet freely with some other women to worship God and discuss some issues of faith. I candidly discussed my feelings about the likely presidential candidates and went on with my day. I ventured with my husband and daughter to the beach and happily pointed out the various planes overhead to our ever-joyous toddler, never once fearing what those planes could mean to our safety. I went anywhere I wanted, whenever I wanted, with whomever I wanted and wearing (and NOT wearing) whatever I wanted.

To all the men and women who have sacrificed in ways large and small and all those who continue to do so: THANK YOU. I don't take these things lightly. I'm glad my husband is home with me, but I know so many of you aren't home with your own loved ones. I pray for your protection and your safe return home, and I am grateful every day for the freedom you provide us all.

Be safe, know that you are cherished, and if you are not already, come home soon.

Mele Kalikimaka

(Apologies for being gone for so long... much to catch up on, as my mom reminds me.)

Going from Christmas in Germany to Christmas in Hawaii is really something of a culture shock. We lived in a remote village that was accessible after winding up hills thickly covered with pine trees, and by this time they were always covered with snow. It takes very little imagination to understand why fairy tales were written around here. Driving through villages centuries older than our own country and decorated with traditional Christmas ornaments and lights, well... it was really quite magical.

Meanwhile, John and I went shopping for more Christmas decorations to make up for ones we've never had and ones that were stolen by our Movers From Hell. Growing up in Pennsylvania, I'm very used to the "welcome candles" that are lit in the windows and just love the soft glow they cast on everything. It was only when I got a "You Know You're from Pennsylvania When..." email in my twenties that I realized leaving them on year-round is a PA-specific thing. Whoops.

So I was on a mission for these candles. Eleven stores. ELEVEN. Not a candle in sight. But I found eleven places in which I could buy a 9-foot inflatable Santa with a surfboard. Oh, brother. I went along with a green lighted spiral Christmas tree because John got really excited about those last year. I figure that, with a toddler, it's time to do festive as opposed to classy. There's plenty of time to do that when we're old and boring. But I also got a lighted grapevine angel that Emily is now obsessed over in a big, big way. The angel is greeted good morning, good night, bye-bye, hi, and generally fussed over throughout the day. When she lights up at dusk, Emily practically turns inside out.

She did the same with the Freedom Tower down by Pearl Harbor. It's a large tower by the elementary school (I need to post a picture of it) that was avoided by the Japanese during the attack because they thought it was a religious structure. I get a kick out of that. Anyhow, she's recently been crazy about "da-dow" (tower) and can't understand why her Daddy can't make it play music at his command. We're trying to explain to her that it only plays at certain times--reveille, National Anthem, etc.--but since her father hung the moon, she doesn't get it. Well, now it's strung ground to top with multi-colored Christmas lights and it's just blowing her little mind. The nightly walks with Azzie require a trip down to the tower and will probably remain that way through the Christmas season.

It's hard to get used to palm trees bedecked with lights as opposed to pine trees, but I'm doing my best. It's nice not having to pay for utilities while living in base housing, so I'm doing what I can to re-create the magic that I remember from my own childhood. That said, some of the houses around here may, I worry, bring the planes coming into Honolulu International to land in the middle of base housing. HOLY COW... there are some amazing displays around here, and it's hilarious! I need to get some photos.

Speaking of which, I'm trying not to think about what happened to our pictures. When Emily was born, John moved our pictures onto an external hard drive. Long story short, it died and can't be resurrected (without about $2,000). Most of the pictures taken since moving to Germany and having a baby are gone, which is devastating in ways I can't put into words. Then our new Nikon D80 erased the pictures I'd been taking when John took out the storage card; we didn't anticipate that. So I'm basically starting from scratch. Yes, my heart hurts over this, but hopefully I can at least partially make up for it by getting some decent pictures of our lives and family from here on out.

Those of you who have snow, make a snow angel for me, will you? Frohe Weinachten and Mele Kalikimaka.

9/11 Reflections

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Leavin' on a Jet Plane

Emily and I are preparing to leave for Pennsylvania this weekend as part of John's COT (consecutive overseas tour) entitlement. Basically, this means that if a servicemember serves back-to-back overseas tours, the government will fly him/her and the family back to the home of record for one trip. Sadly, because of John's Australian TDY, he's not going to be able to go with us, which largely defeats the purpose. However, the grandparents on both sides made it clear that my butt had better be on a plane with their grandbaby come hell or high water.

While part of me is thinking "kill me now", I've traveled alone with Emily before and she's quite a good traveler. As a matter of fact, she had flown across 32 time zones by the time she was 12 months old, which is fairly impressive by any standard. Granted, she wasn't walking during most of that time, which presents a whole new challenge now, but the upside of having a baby who doesn't sleep worth beans is that significant time zone changes aren't really that big of a deal.

The first time Emily flew was after four days in a German hospital when we finally got some answers (and confirmation of Mommy Radar) regarding what was causing her such pain. Getting her the right medication through the military treatment facilities in Germany, however, was going to take a month or so, and I'd had it. I'd watched my baby hurt for five months and I wasn't about to stand by a day longer than necessary. So we got on a Space-A flight to BWI and my awesome father drove 8 hours round trip to get us, bearing the medicine we needed.

Funny thing about that flight is that it was packed with guys returning from downrange (Iraq and Afghanistan), so it was full of men who looked like Daddy but weren't quite Daddy. Emily spent quite a lot of time balancing precariously on my legs, looking around with some confusion and bemusement. While I expected these tired guys to be less than thrilled to have a baby on board, I found that many of them were fathers who had been separated from their kids for way too long and were sweet with both of us and Emily flirted madly with them.

Then there was the PCS from Germany to Hawaii when she was 7 months old. She managed to cut her first tooth on the flight from Frankfurt to DC and her second tooth from DC to San Francisco. Thankfully, breastfeeding saved the day. God sure knew what He was doing when He designed that one.

A trip to Colorado last fall was more interesting since she had begun walking. She must've lapped the terminal 3 times by the time we boarded, which wore her out a bit. She also managed to flirt with countless people and get lots of compliments in the meantime, even from buttoned-up businessmen who weren't accustomed to interacting with little ones in an airport. Then again, it's hard to resist a fuzzy-headed baby who puts her hands on your leg and turns her face up into yours with a bright smile to get your attention.

So, thanks to Uncle Sam, we get a visit with family... and thanks to Uncle Sam, John won't be with us. But we're looking forward to visits with almost my entire family (my brother-in-law will be missing) as well as a week in Chicago on the way back with almost John's entire family (minus the Germany contingent, whom we miss terribly). There are some members of the family who haven't met Emily yet, so we're really excited about this!

And I'm wondering about bringing along some alcohol. Whether for me or for Squeaker is to be determined.

In Memory of Daniel B. Haynes

I'm so saddened to hear of the passing of Daniel Haynes, a very close friend of a friend of mine. (Well, Sara is the twin of one of my best friends, Abby, but such is the family of Christ, right?) Sara had sent out several emails over the past several months about Daniel's fight with cancer alongside his brand-new bride, Priscilla. Daniel went home to be with the Lord last night, and I know that, while his loved ones have every assurance that he is in the arms of his Savior right now, their hearts are aching.

I've asked Sara to speak with Priscilla at a more appropriate time for permission to post Sara's emails here, as they were incredibly moving and beautifully written, and a powerful testimony to faith and love. If they give the okay, I'll share what Sara has written in her requests for prayers for this amazing young couple.

Here is part of his obituary as published at http://www.vandermay.com/; would that we all merit this kind of legacy. Prayers for his young wife, his family, and his dear friends are certainly cherished.

***********************************

O Canada!

We were a little busy with the Daddy Homecoming for me to write a birthday message to my Canadian friends. I'm a huge Canada-phile even though I managed to get seriously sunburned there during my first trip to Ottawa as an adult. (No, really, I did. My Italian then-boyfriend was absolutely flabbergasted that this was even possible.)

A year later, sans aforementioned boyfriend, I went back up for another trip to Ottawa, as I'd come to love the city. I stayed at an international hostel near Parliament--not the former jail this time, though I'd recommend it--and was surprised to be the only American. Of course, my trip coincided with Canada Day, and I was the perfect scapegoat for a whole lot of good-natured crap from the Canadians. And the Aussies. And the Kiwis, now that I think about it.

There is (or was) a popular sketch comedy in Canada called This Hour Has 22 Minutes, and one of the best recurring sketches was "Talking to Americans". Imagine Jay Leno's 'Jaywalking' focused on the ignorance of the average American and you pretty much have the picture. The CBC did an hour-long special based on this particular sketch, which was rebroadcast the evening of Canada Day. I'd already seen it, as a good friend of mine from Canada had sent it to me months prior. Of course, I was hunted down and pulled into the common room to watch it and speak for Americans coast to coast who know nothing about our closest neighbors. Or neighbours, for my maple-leafy friends. There really was no defense; here are some examples:

* went to several Ivy-league colleges and got passionate and well-intentioned statements and signatures from students AND professors on petitions to ban the Great Saskatchewan Seal Hunt and the abandoning of Canadian elderly on ice floes.

* asking Chicagoans what they thought of Canada's plan to change its name to 'Chicago'.

* running a poll on the name for Canada's season of total darkness, favoring "Cana-Dark".

* asking opinions on whether the US should lend its navy to Canada, since, as a land-locked nation, Canada doesn't have one of its own. To their credit, folks were more than happy to let Canada borrow their navy. After all, what are neighbors for?

* congratulating Canada on: switching to the 24-hour clock; joining North America; preserving their national igloo; legalizing insulin; achieving 800 miles of paved road.

* asking how many Canadian states they could name. One woman puzzled over this for a moment before her son, about 8 years old, said with astonishment, "Wait a minute, they have provinces!", resulting in loud cheers from the audience.

It was one of the funniest hours of television I've ever seen. The fact that I was able to withstand the ribbing and join in did much for American-Canadian-whomeverelseian relations, and I was fully welcomed into the Canada Day festivities. Despite the fact that none of the group I hung with that day were Canadian, we celebrated in full spirit along with everyone else in Ottawa. I have to say that they put on a heck of a fireworks display, even though we had to wait until well past 10pm until it was dark enough.

One final thing, though. I have an ongoing and fairly heated dispute with a good (Canadian) friend of mine regarding the whole issue of curling. I'm going to put it in writing once and for all and will not change my mind in this lifetime: Curling is NOT a sport. It was kind of intriguing to watch during the last winter Olympics while we were in Germany, but then, all we had was AFN (American Forces Network) and it was that or endless self-serving promos by an obnoxious and patronizing Air Force general. Curling is, I'm sure, an enjoyable game, but game it is.

Thanks, Canada, for putting up with your well-intentioned but frequently cloddish next door neighbor. You're beautiful in both geography and citizenry, and feel free to come over any time you need a cup of sugar. After all, what are neighbo(u)rs for?


(I need to add this: After writing this, I found an article on "Talking to Americans" on Wikipedia that included a little tidbit I thought I should share. Apparently this special received a bunch of award nominations, but because of the timing of those awards so close to the 9/11 terrorist attacks, Rick Mercer felt it would be in poor taste to air a show poking fun at Americans and asked the organizations to pull the nominations. Talk about having some serious class.)

Fireworks of all kinds

Daddy's home, life is good. Yes, Emily was a bit shy at first, but within an hour or so, when we tried to get her interested in "Signing Time" so we could, um, unpack, she freaked when her daddy went up the stairs without her. She's retaken her rightful place in the jogging stroller during walks with Azzie, and she had her beloved pancakes during Daddy's brunch this morning. (He's been doing this for months since we got here, and the specially-created Emily Pancake has gotten larger along with Emily.) There's been much silliness and giggling on her part, along with immediate "Daahyyy?" responses when she wakes in the morning. The king of her castle has returned.

Smart man. He came back bearing gifts, LOL. Emily is fascinated by the koala bear backpack he presented to her at the airport--which led to chuckles all the way home as she explored his eyes and nose--and I love the Australian opal necklace and earring set he gave me. How convenient that all three of us are October birthdays... nice birthstone. ;)

She's enjoying listening to the ship's guns at Pearl Harbor today, and I wonder what she'll think of the fireworks later tonight at the planesicles. Sorry, they're officially called "The Missing Man Formation" at the large Hickam AFB sign at the end of the jogging trail, but I've called them planesicles since we moved here. Because of the very quick turnaround between John's return from TDY and our leaving this weekend for the mainland, we're not doing anything involved. I'm going to put together a small pound cake, Cool Whip, and berries to resemble a flag, and that's about it this year.

But I'm so thankful my husband is home safe and sound. So many families this Fourth of July are separated and making huge sacrifices for freedom. To all the soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines who are away from family, know that we're thinking of you and grateful for what you are doing to allow us to sit home together, grill burgers, and watch fireworks in peace. God be with all of you.

She loves me, she loves me not

Our formerly public-loving baby, who had never met a stranger (other than pediatricians), has entered a shy phase. It coincided, of course, with her daddy's departure out of the country and has become a great source of angst for the Japanese women all over the island who take great delight in hugging her, exclaiming over and stroking her sandy blond curls, cooing a word I can't spell which seems to mean something like 'cute' or 'sweet'. Rather than leaning toward them with arms outstretched like she used to do, she now covers her face with both hands and peeks through her fingers with a coy little smile. It's cute and fairly flirtatious on its own, but heartbreaking to the child-loving Asian women here who want to pick her up.

Thing is, this shyness has also extended to talking with grandparents on the phone and looking at their pictures. She's excited about it, but has to cover her face for some reason. This is understandable, but...She's now even doing it when we're talking to John on the phone. Uh-oh. I'm somewhat concerned that, after missing him for a month, she's going to be kind of shy with him when he arrives home tomorrow. I know that he'll be very understanding of this, knowing that it's temporary and developmentally normal, but he's gone through enough in one lifetime. At least it was only one month. What would happen if it had been longer?

Being a military family is kind of like living with a ticking bomb. You know a deployment is coming at some point, and the longer you go without it, the more the reality looms. John semi-volunteered for one while I was pregnant since it would have been shorter than ones are now and gotten one out of the way before our child arrived. His colonel wasn't willing to let him go and nixed the orders, so to some extent, I feel like we're on borrowed time. I look at my friends and their families in other branches--Army, who are gone for eons; Navy, who are a special breed to be out at sea; and Marines, who need no explanation--and am in awe of their strength and courage. Love and prayers to them all.

Things will right themselves in time. John is the sun of this baby's world, and she won't be able to resist her hero for long.