Thomas is home! Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder and Cake Class Completion

Thomas is home!  We went to the airport on Saturday afternoon to pick him up.  We made a sign and gave him a heroes greeting (talk about garnering attention!).  The picture is of the kids with his actual airplane in the background.  Let me just say that his two-a-day workouts really paid off!  Unfortunately, I left the camera at home, and only had my cell phone to rely on.  And, I was too busy being part of the homecoming to take pictures of it.  Anyway,  it is wonderful to have my husband back.  And, the kids want him to do everything for them, especially Jack and Anna (also wonderful).  It was 4 days before Anna would even let me buckle her in her carseat.  Anna kept asking when he had to go back and is thrilled when he says he is staying home now.  Five days in, it is almost like he never left.  I missed him so much and hope we never go through a long separation again.  Hats off to the military families who do repeated and lengthy deployments!  Unfortunately for him, there were lots of projects around the house waiting;  in his week "off" (before returning to his regular job), he has painted a room, put together a massive bunkbed, and as I type this is out buying a chair rail that he will be putting up in the next day or two. 

Like most mothers, I think my kids are cute (what 2 and 3 year old isn't?).  Kara still garners a lot of attention when we are out in public.  People like to say hello to her, they ask her how old she is, make faces at her, tell me how adorable she is etc.  We rarely go anywhere without at least one person talking to her and multiple people smiling and/or waving.  (On a sidenote, Jack and Anna received the same attention when they were younger, but not as much now, I guess people are just drawn to babies/toddlers). 

Recently, Kara got a rash on her face.  We believe it was poison ivy.  And, I noticed something.  When we were out, people weren't talking to her and almost no one even smiled in her direction.  Most people actually avoided eye contact.  It was sad for me.  I realized that because she didn't appear as cute, most people didn't notice her adorable, happy personality.  I am glad the rash has faded and she is back to strangers playing peek-a-boo with her (last night at Lowe's), but I wish that as a society we didn't put so much emphasis on what someone looks like.  She didn't notice the rash, she didn't act any differently, but people around us did.  I am also confident people weren't conscious of what they were doing.  It was strange to observe. 

I had my last basic cake decorating class last night.  The pictures show from week 1 to week 4.  I am signed up to take the second class and I think that will be plenty for me.  Cake decorating is definitely not my life's calling, not that I ever thought it was.  I enjoyed the class, but it was a lot of work prepping for each week and I am not so sure the "reward" was worth the effort.  I let Jack and Anna each choose a cake from the beginners book, which I told them I will make for their birthday.  Jack chose a hamburger cake and Anna wanted the "flowering mums" cake.  So, those were my two practice cakes.  Those who attend the kid's birthday party next week will be able to see, and taste, the fruits of my labor. 

I am so glad that this long summer is over and life is returning to normal! 

My Foray into Single Parenting

On June 27th I started a job that was to last for 3-months.  On July 5th we found out that Thomas was going to be working in Hawaii for 80+ days.   Five days later he was gone and my adventure as a single, working mother began.  Unlike the majority of single mothers (I am assuming majority), I was able to hire someone to come to our home each day.  With a toddler and two preschoolers, financially it was probably pretty close to the same as sending them to daycare.  However, it certainly made my life much easier.  When Thomas and I worked the thing that I hated the most was waking up an obviously tired child to hurriedly feed, dress, and transport them to daycare.  Once there, they would frequently beg me not to leave them.  But, I did leave them.  Granted, most days they were excited to see their teachers and friends and it was an excellent program...  Hey!  I don't need to justify myself to you.  Let's just say it was nice having a babysitter they adored.  In fact, some days I found myself wishing they would beg me not to leave them.

Back on track: single parenting.  We dropped Thomas off at the airport on Sunday, July 11.  Jack and Anna understood what was happening.  We thought Kara did.  But, when I put her to bed that night, she asked, "Daddy tuck me in when he gets home?"  It was heartbreaking.  She asked for several days if she was going to see him.  And, got very sad when she would hear his voice.  She still cries for him occassionally, and sometimes, particularly when she's mad at me, she'll woefully say, "I miss my Daddy; he's never coming home <big sigh>."  Jack, I suspect, is angry at Thomas.  He'll spontaneously mention missing him, and if we do fill-in-the-blank stories, Jack always injects a Daddy plotline, but sometimes he refuses to talk to him on the phone.  Anna is always ready to have a conversation.  She has enjoyed checking the days off on a calendar and is secure in the knowledge that Daddy will be home before her birthday.

For me, it has been trying.  Someone said recently in a Sunday School class that having children taught them patience.  Having children taught me that I don't have a lot of patience.  Being a single, working parent taught me that I have no patience.  When I get home from work I really want to spend time with them, but I have trouble getting my mind to enjoy the moment and stop focusing on everything else I need to get done.  And, things that previously were only slight annoyances are now major irriations (like why they insist on playing with my deodarant? no matter where I put it they find it and move it).  But, lest this turn into a whining session, here are the things I like about going it alone: when I do watch t.v., no one questions my choices.  I can get away with not cooking (a real) dinner.  I don't feel (as) guilty about a messy house.  I can splay across the bed in whatever fashion I choose.   Hmm, that's all I can come up with.

Now, what I like the least.  Ummm, just kidding.  I don't even want to get into that.  Okay, actually I did get into that, but it was like six paragraphs long and I don't like how I sounded.  So, I've deleted all that and I'll sum it up with: a whole lot less free time.

For me this is temporary.  Thomas will be home, I'll stop working and life will return to "normal".  It hasn't been all bad.  It's been nice having two incomes. And, I did learn a lot.  I feel more grateful for the quality time I do have with my children.  This has also been a powerful reminder of what an obscenely outstanding husband and father Thomas is.  Finally, the support of my friends has been wonderful.  It is hard to be away from family.  I would never feel bad about calling up my sister and saying, "Kim, take these monsters; I just need an hour.  Please.  Help me."  But, it is harder to say that to friends.  So, it has been nice to have friends who invited us over and kept our weekends full and fun.  And for the friends currently staying with us that just take the kids outside or for an ice cream cone, without my even asking/begging.  Finally, thank goodness for reliable, good childcare.  Our amazing babysitter even went shopping with us in her off time.  How many people go it "alone" with that kind of support?

Thoughts on 9/11/01 on 9/11/11

My original idea for this post was to post my journal entry from 9/11/01 (or therabouts, I don't think I actually wrote on that Tuesday, I believe it was a few days later) and contrast that with thoughts based on 10 years of reflection.  Unfortunately, my journal is in the attic and I am not venturing up to get it.  So,  all I can do it write my reflections. 

On 9/11 I was in law school.  That morning, I ran into Thomas, my future husband.  He told me that a plane had just hit the World Trade Center.  I told him I didn't believe him, although I really did, because who would joke about that?  He took me down to the student lounge, where CNN was playing and dozens of students were gathered around.  I only had a few minutes to stand and watch before my next class.  I went upstairs and everyone was talking and confused.  The students who came out of the classroom had no idea what happened, and the students in the hallway filled them in and watched them run to find the nearest television. 

The professor (Rendleman) conducted class as normal.  One of the people in front of me had a laptop on, streaming the news.  That is how I watched the first (second to be hit) tower fall.  It was very surreal.  I had never heard of Osama Bin Laden, or Al Qaeda.  I doubt I could find Iraq on a map, and I had never heard the terms Sunni, Shiite or jihad.

After that class, I had a break in my schedule and I ran home to watch the news.  It was all starting to come together.  Earlier, it was mass confusion.  I remember one comentator saying, "I don't know if this is Y2K or what."  People just really couldn't fathom what was going on.   When the other planes went down, I was afraid it would just never end.  I thought there could be endless moments of plane crashes and subsequently, even more deaths.  I was almost scared to watch the news, afraid of what was going to happen next, but I couldn't turn away.

My afternoon professor wanted to hold class as usual.  He said if we didn't the terrorists won because their whole goal was to disrupt our lives.  But, it was apparent no one could concentrate and he let us out early.  Many of my classmates had friends and relatives in New York and Washington.  I am surprised we even went to class, but we were first years and didn't know better (I doubt the third years showed up).

For me, the worst thing was seeing people jumping from the buildings.  That footage gave me nightmares for months.  I would close my eyes and see them falling.  It was terrible.  I remember facts rolling in and learning about who was responsible and why.  I remember crying when I heard, "Where were you when the World Stopped Turning."  I remember a candlelight vigil and watching the news in every spare moment.  I remember feeling completely incredulous that this could happen here, in the United States, and bewilderment that there were people who could hate us that much.

I cried a lot.  I cried for the children who would grow up without a parent and the mothers and fathers who lost their daughters and sons.  I cried when I heard about the heroes of United 93 and wondered what it would have been like to be on that plane, knowing my death was imminent. 

It was a powerful time.  I also remember being proud to be an American.  Proud of the resolve of my country and proud of  the unity its citizens showed.  Finally, I remember beind touched by other countrys that offered their condolences and seemed genuinely saddened for us. 

Flashback: Kara the Biter

I am not sure what made me think of this yesterday, but I feel the need to memorialize Kara's biting stage.  Jack and Anna were not biters, so Kara's tendency caught me a bit by surprise.  Beginning around age one and continuing to about 2, Kara went through a biting stage.  Well, actually it was less biting and more bearing of teeth and lunging.  She particularly liked to do this to Jack and Anna.  I remember them rolling around on the floor, fighting over some toy and Kara screeching as she opened her mouth wide and attempted to bite Anna's back.  She often aimed for the back, which never worked and looked pretty funny to Thomas and me (model parents that we are).

But, my favorite biting story, and the one that came to mind yesterday, happened when she was in daycare in Tennessee.  She was around 16 months old and Thomas got a call at work.  We often got calls--Jack bumped his head, Anna scratched her finger, Kara skinned her knee.  It was a pretty regular occurrence.  This one was different.  This call was telling Thomas that Kara had bitten another child and left a significant mark on the child's arm.  They were careful to refer to the victim as "child"; no pronouns were used to protect the hapless child's identity.  As Thomas was pondering what to do with this information, he heard another phone in the office ring.  Shortly thereafter, one of his coworkers came into his office and plopped in the chair across from him. 

"Can you believe some kid bit Nate?  I wish they could control those kids.  Has the biter gotten to Kara?"

Thomas was quiet for a moment, and then had to reluctantly admit that Kara was The Biter.  I believe they shared an akward laugh.

I loved that story.  I could just picture the scene in the office with the phones ringing one after another after the careful use of language to protect all parties involved.  On a somewhat related note, I loved it when Jack and Anna got older and the teachers would report on pick-up that one of them had done something to another child.  The first time it happened, I asked their teacher who they hit, kicked, scratched, etc., not knowing that was protected information.  When the teachers said they couldn't tell me, Anna or Jack would happily announce, "I scratched Gracie," or "I pushed Abram."  The teachers would just shrug.

Kara has gotten over her biting phase.  Until recently, she would still threaten Jack or Anna "I'm going to bite you," but she (almost) never actually did.  I believe poor Nate was the only victim to have a significant mark.