This Vintage Chica

day 1 : day 104

Hello all.  Im back after a 10 day break having many coronas (me) and bloody mary's (him) in celebration of S's return.  Thank you for your continued congratulations and for understanding that we needed a bit of time to just be a family again.  After so many long trips apart, I now know how things work best.  Clearing the calander of anything and everything is a must.  I used to expect him to just fit back into the routine I had been keeping while he was away.  And it was frustrating on everyone.  I have learned that I have to give us 10 days or so to start all over again.  To make a new schedule that fits the five of us.  Its that give and take, the frustrating push and pull of juggling it all that can tear you down if you are not aware of it.  This works for us.

The morning after he arrived home he woke me up at 2:30 a.m. to ask what time it was.  He was still on overseas time and was ready to start his day.  He got up and went downstairs.  I almost pulled the covers back over my head, but instead decided to get up with him...knowing that this might be the only time we get to have this much alone time without the boys awake.  We made coffee.  And talked.  and talked and talked.  He unpacked everything that he had wanted to to say over the past four months but couldn't because of unsecure lines.  Things about amazing people he had met, things he had seen, things he had done.  He has asked me not to share any of our conversation.  And I won't.  But I have not been quiet about my feelings regarding our country's war with Iraq.    But after speaking to someone whom I trust with just about everything about his personal accounts, let me say this...I am more dedicated than ever to the thought that THIS WAR MUST END.  SOON! 

We will be back to our regularly scheduled blog programming after this post, but I just feel the need to share a bit of this part of our life.  I think we have a unique voice, the two of us - he being in the military and me such a crunchy conservative and all.  You all have been very gracious through this time, so I guess I am wanting to share a bit of closure here on the blog as well.  While S was away I kept a daily (well almost daily) private blog.  I shared it with him only after he arrived back home over coffe that early morning. I thought I might quickly share my first and last entries.  I hope that is OK with you.

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DAY 1

Dear S,

You thought I would cry when you left the house tonight.  But you were wrong.  I didn't.  I just couldn't allow myself to let you think I couldn't handle all that would be coming my way over the next three months.  Although now as the boys are all quietly sleeping upstairs, the tears are flowing freely.  I miss you already and you are not even out of the state.  The phone has been ringing all day with people calling to wish you well overseas and see if we need anything.  We are so rich in that regard.  Thank God for our friends and families.  We will be fine.  I know it.  It is you I worry about.  Have a safe trip.  Do what you have been training so long to do.  And please know that I love you more than the dolphins love the waves.

Yours,

E

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DAY 104

Dear S,

Today you came home from Iraq!  I knew you were coming in, but I know by now to keep it to myself and not tell the boys.  God forbid something happen with the plane schedule and you not make it.  I don't think I could handle their disappointment (and mine).  I have been thinking about you all day...on the verge of tears at least a dozen times.  But I didn't allow myself, knowing that these things are always subject to change.  But I manage to put clean sheets on the bed, finished up a few sewing projects that were in the "to do" pile and cleared the schedule of anything and everything for the next week or so.

It almost killed me keeping the secret from the boys all day.  I am pretty sure they knew on some level that it would be sooner than I was letting on.  They are sensetive little buggers.  They knew.  But when I got your call that you were back at the command and on your way home, I couldn't hold all the emotion in any longer.  With the waterworks in full swing I called out to the boys..."Guys!  Daddy's plane landed, he's on his way home."  Sweet words I tell you...sweet words. 

The welcome wagon started making signs and cleaning up their room and last minute party plans were in the works.  Until you called again to say that your car had apparently been sitting too long in the base parking lot and you were stranded at the Rite Aid Pharmacy.  So our reunion took place (a bit delayed) in a busy parking lot amidst busy shoppers.  Funny thing, family reunions like this are not uncommon in this military town.  They happen at schools, at spouse's workplaces and are a common sight on the local nightly news.  The older man who was parked next to us stopped to shake your hand and said a simple "thanks".  I wondered if he had experiences reunions of this sort as well.  I guess Rite Aid is as good a place as any to see your dirty, stinky bearded husband for the first time in four months.  Welcome home S...we've missed you.  Thank God you are home.

honey, Im home!

Yep, our daddy came home late Friday night.  So please excuse us if we are a big pre-occupied for the next week or so.  I'll give you the full scoop when we're all reaquainted with each other.  Right now we're all off doing what we do best.  Just hangin' out with each other.

P.S.  Thanks for all of the prayers, emails and notes over the past several months.  I do not even know how to express our gratitude.

he's three

My youngest is three today. How in the heck did that happen?  OK, quick...before I get all weepy...

A few things about Wyatt:

• Wyatt is so adventurous. He does everything his older brothers do (climbing, skateboarding, swimming) despite being just shy of three years younger than they.  I swear he'd get on the school bus and ride it all the way and back again if I let him.
• Wyatt is brave, oh so brave! He is the first to volunteer for anything - no fear baby! He was the first to go off the diving board at my Aunt Karen's house last summer, the first to ride the horses, the first to climb at the Rock Gym a few weeks ago.
• Wyatt looks more and more like his daddy everyday (only with that blond hair). 
• Wyatt is funny and so silly. He tells goofy knock, knock jokes. His joke this morning: "Knock, knock?" "Who's there". "Orange". "Orange who?" "Orange you glad you don't have orange juice in your hair?" Yes, I am Wyatt.  Goofy kid.
• Wyatt has started ACTING like three as well.  And boy is he a great actor.  He often gets caught bugging the heck out of his older brothers and then playing the victim after one of them puts him in his place.
• Wyatt loves, loves birds and tells me all the time he wishes he could fly like a cardinal.
• Wyatt's prayer at every meal since S's deployment has been "Dear God, I love my dad. Amen" Every single prayer.
• And finally, he loves his brothers more than anything in the world and still crawls into bed with one of them when he wakes up in the night.

We're waiting to have his party when his papa gets home (which should be soon), but have been celebrating for the past week just between the four of us.

Happy Birthday Wyatt, my funny, sensitive, soulful, snugly bugly, awesome, adventurous, brave...oh, so very brave, beautiful child!!! I cant wait to see what the next year brings. Thank you for choosing me to be your Mama!

changing my name

These days I am starting to feel a bit like Noah's wife.  That poor, poor woman.  How on earth did she manage to keep her sons occupied and not at each other's throats for forty days and forty nights while it rained?  And without coloring books or Curious George. 

Our backyard was starting to resemble the swamps in Florida despite the french drains that were installed a few years ago.  Needless to say, after six days straight of rain, it was getting a bit scary back there.  The boys were starting to make up stories about an alligator names Gus who lived back there and was just waiting for little boys to stray too far off the patio and CHOMP!  They began taking bets on how big the alligator would be when it finally swam by our back kitchen window.  Ninety one-hundred feet was Ian's guess.

But on Thursday the clouds parted and the rain finally stopped.  So on Friday evening I had a lot of mowing to do.  Mowing the front and back yard, edging (yes, I have learned to do that too!) and lots and lots of weed pulling.  However all of the yard work has left us with itchy eyes and the sniffly noses - yep, allergies!  Poor Wyatt seems to be getting the brunt of it.  We're all doped up on benedryl now.  So hopefully we'll be back to our regular blogging schedule (like there really is such a thing!) soon.

Until then, please have your inflatable boats and swamp buggies at the ready, we might need a rescue.  It just started raining again.

Oh, and just one last thought.  I think I know why Noah's wife is not named in the Bible.  If she was like me, she got tired of hearing "Mama, mama, mama he's not sharing" and "Mama, somebody spilled applesauce down the stairs" and "Mama, where are the sharp knives?".  I told the boys yesterday that I changed my name and I wasn't going to tell them what I had changed it to.  I'm guessing Noah's wife did the same. 

rainy days and mondays

I know the old saying April showers bring May flowers, but we're going on day four of rain.  I really like rain...you know the warm summer rain that cools everything off and makes the world smell fresh and new.  Yep.  I like that kind of rain. 

But the past several days have been full of the cold-to-your-bones, where-in-the-name-of-heaven-did-Spring-go kind of rain.  I'm not so fond of that type of rain.  Not at all.

So until the clouds part, we occupy ourselves with:

-new (to me) Spring sheets in blues and greens on the bed

- sharing blueberry pancakes for breakfast with a friend

-a game (or seven) of UNO.  No cheatin' boys!

-wondering how this bit of the outside came to rest on our windowsill inside

-thinking about how good the rain is for the newly planted strawberries

-watching the birds and smile knowing at least some of us are enjoying it (can you spot her?)

-dreaming up new projects, even though there are at least twenty that need to be finished first.

Tomorrow is supposed to be sunnier.  Thank goodness!  The boys are climbing the walls...literally.

ties that bind

I finished Amanda's book late last night. If you are a reader of her Soulemama blog, you will be very happy to know her book has the same "having a chat over coffee" feel to it. It is filled with some of my favorite projects she has shared previously, plus many new ones.

But the main idea I am walking away with is how handcrafts tie the generations together...especially us women. I found my mind wandering this morning to thoughts of my dad's mom, my Grandmother Hays, who sewed and crocheted afghans. She made me pretty nightgowns and matching Christmas outfits for me and my brother. She taught me how to single crochet. And my Grandmother Williams (hi grammer!) who showed me how to make rag rugs from scraps. She also taught me how to clean a fish...but that is a post for another time.

It made me think about my mother, who is an amazing seamstress. In fact, so good she made most of my prom dresses and even my wedding dress. She is the one who taught me to sew (or tried to).

In typical Eren fashion, my first sewing project was a skirt pattern way too advanced for my new skills - complete with pockets and a zipper. She tried to talk me into a more simple pattern that had an easy elastic casing at the top. But I was too cool for elastic! I couldn't show up to 6th grade wearing an elastic waist skirt and exclaim "Look what I made!" No way, Mom!

I'm not sure how my mother remembers this story, but I remember it being pretty much a nightmare. I wasn't the straightest sewer ever to chair up to a machine. And she made me rip out each seam that didn't meet her high standards! She probably remembers it something like an impatient young girl wanting to be an expert at something without the effort it required....who, me?

Needless to say, she tried her best to help me. Explaining why it was important to be so exact. Now that I am participating in this little quilting bee, I get it. Mom...twenty something years later...I GET IT!

Passing down a skill like crochet or sewing connects us of who we are and where we have come from. It ties us to the amazing women who have come before us. Women who also had little ones pulling at their aprons asking for juice. Women who also had to tend a garden, do the laundry and take a meal to a sick neighbor.

So Amanda's book has me feeling a bit nostalgic today. And it moved me to get out five unfinished Dresden plate quilt pieces that I brought home with me last summer. They were with some patterns and fabric of my great-grandmother Hays's. So, we are assuming they were hers. I have laid them all out and carefully ironed them thinking all the while about their original purpose. Each one is amazing in itself. And am now dreaming up ways to use them in our home.

Thank you Amanda for your book! For reminding us how handcrafts not only bind us to our families but to eachother.  And even more, thank you Grandmother Hays. Thank you Grammer. And thank you Mom! I am who I am because of you all.

climb every mountain

You see, my ever climbing boys have outgrown the small trees in our front yard, a crepe myrtle and a three year old maple.  They climb as high as they possibly can.  Resulting in them standing precariously on the little, thin branches at the top.  And this sends me into a screaming fit yelling "if you break the branches off my poor little trees, I will sell you to the gypsies!"  I should probably be more concerned with their safety, but I swear the Lord above has genetically designed boys to climb trees.  So I guess he'll protect them if they fall.  But my poor trees!

Our Spring break was last week, and we took full advantage of the time off.  We visited The Rock Gym three out of the five days off.  We had a blast the first day just bouldering around. 

And then the other two days we were on the ropes the entire time.  I say "we" like I was included in the climbing part of the expedition.  But really, my role was to stand in the wings and say things like "hold on, wait your turn, your brother will be done in a sec." and "leave your helmet on or they'll have to make us leave".  I adjusted harnesses and generally supervised, etc.

S and I used to climb before we were married and then together for awhile before the older boys were born.  I was even certified to belay, but these days I wouldn't remember a figure eight from a frog's leap.  But this outing was very encouraging.  Maybe the boys have hit the age their papa has been waiting for their whole little lives.  The age when they get to share in the things that truly give joy.

He'll be so very excited to take them next time!

on inspiration

“When you are inspired by some great purpose, some extraordinary project, all your thoughts break their bonds: Your mind transcends limitations, your consciousness expands in every direction, and you find yourself in a new, great, and wonderful world. Dormant forces, faculties and talents become alive, and your discover yourself to be a greater person by far than you ever dreamed yourself to be.”
--unknown

I don't know why I ever thought a stay-at-home-with-her-boys mother, wife, friend, daughter, sister, neighbor was not at liberty to use this word - inspired. Why did I ever think only artists and craftspeople owned the use of this word. Why I had to be creating in the most traditional sense of the word.  Should I not to be inspired in what I do as well? Even if it is a new and creative way to dust the pollen covered furniture? A different way to play with my children.  Shouldn't that be the miracle of being inspired?  Finding unexpected joy in the everyday? If that is the case, and I believe it is, we should all be inspired!

Today I am wrapping my arms around this word. Opening myself up to seeing old things in a new way. Open to all possibilities.

And I am inspired by:

- an amazing friend who went out of her way
- Texas bluebonnets blooming, even though we will miss them this year
- Spring and new growth, watching our seeds sprouting in our garden
- the thought of camping this summer when papa comes home
- Amanda's book is out TODAY!
- vintage books about shell collecting and display
- terrariums
- The Crafty Crow brimming with ideas for us to explore
- stories from the past...as always
- Erin's animal quilts
- and this book, which I keep coming back to again and again.

What's inspiring you these days?