We are getting ready for bed, and I am explaining to TLG that tomorrow we are going to up to Olympia, to see Ur-Opa.
"I think he must be very sad," says TLG.
"Yes, he is," says Nathan.
"He will need a big hug," I add. "You can tell him you're sorry that Ur-Oma died, and that you love him. That might help him feel a little okay."
I go on to say that we will be dressed up nicely, because we will be going to a Memorial Service, where we will share memories and stories about Ur-Oma.
"Why?" he asks.
"Because that is what you do, when someone you love dies," I say. "You tell stories about them, and remember, and it helps with the sadness."
"Me too?" he asks.
"You can if you want to," I respond. "Do you have a story about Ur-Oma you'd like to share?"
"Yes," he says, with all the innate, unflappable confidence of a 3-year-old.
"What story would you like to share?"
He hesitates. "Um," he says, obviously thinking hard. "Ur-Oma died,"
"Yes she did," I say. "But did you want to share a memory about her?" His little brow furrows, and he continues to think.
"Hugs," he says at last.
"She gave you hugs?" I ask, just to clarify. "And you liked them?"
"Yes!" He beams up at me, pleased with his answer, and my comprehension. I smile at him, stroking his hair and thinking, it took me nearly two hours to write the tribute I plan on delivering tomorrow... but his is probably better.
8.09.2019
8.06.2019
Nesting With My (Big) Baby Bird
This weekend was devoted to capital-N Nesting. Like, I even wrote it on the calendar, you guys- that's how serious about it I was; no work appointments today, by golly- I have a car seat to clean and install!
I made a whole To Do List, which is not in and of itself particularly surprising (To Do Lists are How I Roll), but I did have some doubts about my ability to get all the way through it, given my Extremely Pregnant and Slightly Anemic State. But I did get through it, Gentle Readers- I did! Everything on the list got checked off! And what's more, I didn't do it alone- Nathan helped quite a bit, but (more importantly to this particular blog entry) TLG helped, too.
One of my main tasks was to wash all of the newborn-to-three-month-old-clothes that I'd saved from TLG's infancy (/since received in anticipation of Little Brother's arrival), and TLG stood right there with me, happily transferring all the tiny little outfits from the hamper into the washing machine, one after the other. And then he later transferred them into the dryer, and finally back into the clean-clothes hamper He is delighting in his impending role of Big Brother, and it makes me so, so happy to see him so happy. I can only hope the delight will survive Little Brother's actual arrival...
We are now 100% ready for Little Brother to arrive, at least from a purely pragmatic point of view: car seat installed, bassinet set up, clothes washed, diapers and wipes ready and waiting. Really, when it comes right down to it, everything else is gravy, and since TLG got himself born at just shy of 39 weeks, I felt getting The Essentials set up before the end of week 37 was just good sense (please no one laugh too hard if Little Brother decides not to make an appearance until after his official due date...). There are other things I'd like to get done before D-Day (that's D for Delivery, you know) but I'm not going to sweat it if I don't get around to them. (#parentingveteran, amiright?)
Now, in terms of emotional preparedness... that's another topic, entirely. I find it interesting that I seem to have greater affection for this unborn child than I did for TLG at the same stage, a feeling which I can only credit to TLG already expressing his pure and uncomplicated love for Little Brother. He hugs my belly, kisses it, giggles delightedly when he feels kicks or sees movement, and talks excitedly about how Little Brother will be born this month! I see his love, and of course I love what my child loves (hence my re-found ability to discuss dinosaurs at great length), so therefore I love this newest uterine pirate in a way I was incapable of fathoming during my pregnancy with TLG. Plus, you know... after two miscarriages I believe I was holding myself at a Bit of a Protective Reserve, whereas now I know it's entirely possible this baby will make it! Woo!
But even as I'm feeling all this warmth and affection for Little Brother, at the same time I also have very real concerns about my ability to love him as much as I love TLG, once Little Brother becomes a reality rather than an idea. Intellectually I understand that hormones will eventually kick in and I'll love him unreservedly, just as I did TLG, but my heart worries I'll only ever see him as a threat to TLG's resources, and never be able to bond properly.
I'm told this is a common (and entirely unfounded) concern.
Here's hoping.
I made a whole To Do List, which is not in and of itself particularly surprising (To Do Lists are How I Roll), but I did have some doubts about my ability to get all the way through it, given my Extremely Pregnant and Slightly Anemic State. But I did get through it, Gentle Readers- I did! Everything on the list got checked off! And what's more, I didn't do it alone- Nathan helped quite a bit, but (more importantly to this particular blog entry) TLG helped, too.
One of my main tasks was to wash all of the newborn-to-three-month-old-clothes that I'd saved from TLG's infancy (/since received in anticipation of Little Brother's arrival), and TLG stood right there with me, happily transferring all the tiny little outfits from the hamper into the washing machine, one after the other. And then he later transferred them into the dryer, and finally back into the clean-clothes hamper He is delighting in his impending role of Big Brother, and it makes me so, so happy to see him so happy. I can only hope the delight will survive Little Brother's actual arrival...
We are now 100% ready for Little Brother to arrive, at least from a purely pragmatic point of view: car seat installed, bassinet set up, clothes washed, diapers and wipes ready and waiting. Really, when it comes right down to it, everything else is gravy, and since TLG got himself born at just shy of 39 weeks, I felt getting The Essentials set up before the end of week 37 was just good sense (please no one laugh too hard if Little Brother decides not to make an appearance until after his official due date...). There are other things I'd like to get done before D-Day (that's D for Delivery, you know) but I'm not going to sweat it if I don't get around to them. (#parentingveteran, amiright?)
Now, in terms of emotional preparedness... that's another topic, entirely. I find it interesting that I seem to have greater affection for this unborn child than I did for TLG at the same stage, a feeling which I can only credit to TLG already expressing his pure and uncomplicated love for Little Brother. He hugs my belly, kisses it, giggles delightedly when he feels kicks or sees movement, and talks excitedly about how Little Brother will be born this month! I see his love, and of course I love what my child loves (hence my re-found ability to discuss dinosaurs at great length), so therefore I love this newest uterine pirate in a way I was incapable of fathoming during my pregnancy with TLG. Plus, you know... after two miscarriages I believe I was holding myself at a Bit of a Protective Reserve, whereas now I know it's entirely possible this baby will make it! Woo!
But even as I'm feeling all this warmth and affection for Little Brother, at the same time I also have very real concerns about my ability to love him as much as I love TLG, once Little Brother becomes a reality rather than an idea. Intellectually I understand that hormones will eventually kick in and I'll love him unreservedly, just as I did TLG, but my heart worries I'll only ever see him as a threat to TLG's resources, and never be able to bond properly.
I'm told this is a common (and entirely unfounded) concern.
Here's hoping.
7.21.2019
Listening to Sad Music So That I Can Cry
My Oma died today.
(Oma, of course, being the German word for Grandmother: in this instance my Mom's Mom.)
It wasn't a surprise at all- she'd had a stroke back in May, was hospitalized/in rehab for about six weeks, and we all knew that basically the goal was to get her well enough to come home to die.
And she did. So at least there's that.
I got the call while I was at the playground. Nathan and I had taken TLG and my best friend's son (whom we were babysitting this weekend) to run off some energy, and thank all the gods Nathan was literally standing right next to me when I got the call, able to put his arm around me and be a solid presence grounding me.
It was my mom, and her voice when she said hello- I knew. And I cracked a joke because that's how we roll, and we both laughed and cried and then I had to lock that shit down because I had two little boys I had just told I was taking for ice cream.
I'm proud of my ability to compartmentalize- it is extremely useful is emergency situations. But the problem is that it's a lot harder to unlock that emotional box than it is to lock it in the first place.
Even after we were back to our typical Family Unit of Three, with Nathan occupying TLG downstairs so that I could have some Alone Time upstairs... nothing. Numbness. And I feel like I can't talk about it with TLG until I can express honest emotion. Right now I'm too detached, too clinical. I a not a healthy model of grief.
Hence I'm now working on this blog entry, forcing myself to face and process things, and listening to sad music for good measure. Sometimes you just have to artificially jump start the emotions before they'll flow properly. Priming a pump, or something. I don't know. I don't have it in me to make elegant metaphors, at the moment.
And just like that, it's working.
(Oma, of course, being the German word for Grandmother: in this instance my Mom's Mom.)
It wasn't a surprise at all- she'd had a stroke back in May, was hospitalized/in rehab for about six weeks, and we all knew that basically the goal was to get her well enough to come home to die.
And she did. So at least there's that.
I got the call while I was at the playground. Nathan and I had taken TLG and my best friend's son (whom we were babysitting this weekend) to run off some energy, and thank all the gods Nathan was literally standing right next to me when I got the call, able to put his arm around me and be a solid presence grounding me.
It was my mom, and her voice when she said hello- I knew. And I cracked a joke because that's how we roll, and we both laughed and cried and then I had to lock that shit down because I had two little boys I had just told I was taking for ice cream.
I'm proud of my ability to compartmentalize- it is extremely useful is emergency situations. But the problem is that it's a lot harder to unlock that emotional box than it is to lock it in the first place.
Even after we were back to our typical Family Unit of Three, with Nathan occupying TLG downstairs so that I could have some Alone Time upstairs... nothing. Numbness. And I feel like I can't talk about it with TLG until I can express honest emotion. Right now I'm too detached, too clinical. I a not a healthy model of grief.
Hence I'm now working on this blog entry, forcing myself to face and process things, and listening to sad music for good measure. Sometimes you just have to artificially jump start the emotions before they'll flow properly. Priming a pump, or something. I don't know. I don't have it in me to make elegant metaphors, at the moment.
And just like that, it's working.
6.27.2019
Counting Down 65 Days
or: Yes! I'm Pregnant Again!
Hey, remember how last time I was all, "turns out I'm really terrible about not mentioning the pregnancy while I blog,"? Well that remains a true statement, hence the extremely extended silence. But I let the fetal cat out of the social media bag this past Sunday, so here I am doing a write-up on the blog. And it's important to me that I start blogging with regularity again, since it's so fun to look back at TLG's first year of life through my in-the-moment lens. I'm trying not to shortchange this new one, whom we are calling Little Brother amongst our little family, but whom I'll call LBB (aka Little Baby Boy) on the blog (for now- the TLG -formerly-known-as-Neeps taught me the folly of expecting pre-birth nicknames to stick).
Now with that out of the way, let's hit the other Typical Questions
-My due date is August 30th (aka 65 days from now) but based on past experience, I'm laying money on August 24th or sooner.
-As you may have surmised, it's another boy! We are freaking stoked, because (as I exclaimed during the anatomy scan) this means we don't have to learn a new set of genitals! Winning. Actually I have a funny story about this- TLG was dead set on having a little sister (he wanted to name her Rosie, of all things) so when we broke the news that Little Brother was, in fact, a little brother, he wailed, "Nooooo!" I got it all on video- priceless. But we talked him around by pointing out that I have a little brother (Uncle David, whom he adores) and Daddy is not just a little brother but the littlest brother, so now he's on board with the idea that little brothers can be cool, and more importantly, little brothers look up to big brothers, who get to teach them All The Things. We'll see how long this enthusiasm lasts once the squirming larva is actually here, but for now I'll take it!
-Just like with TLG, we have no clue what LBB's Real Life name will be. We have a list of names that we'll choose from once we actually meet him, but for now... LBB it is.
-Yes, this is the Last One. Steps Will Be Taken to ensure it, I assure you.
There, that ought to cover it, for now. Here's to our future adventures as a Family of Four!
 |
| All swanky at a Work Event. |
Hey, remember how last time I was all, "turns out I'm really terrible about not mentioning the pregnancy while I blog,"? Well that remains a true statement, hence the extremely extended silence. But I let the fetal cat out of the social media bag this past Sunday, so here I am doing a write-up on the blog. And it's important to me that I start blogging with regularity again, since it's so fun to look back at TLG's first year of life through my in-the-moment lens. I'm trying not to shortchange this new one, whom we are calling Little Brother amongst our little family, but whom I'll call LBB (aka Little Baby Boy) on the blog (for now- the TLG -formerly-known-as-Neeps taught me the folly of expecting pre-birth nicknames to stick).
Now with that out of the way, let's hit the other Typical Questions
-My due date is August 30th (aka 65 days from now) but based on past experience, I'm laying money on August 24th or sooner.
-As you may have surmised, it's another boy! We are freaking stoked, because (as I exclaimed during the anatomy scan) this means we don't have to learn a new set of genitals! Winning. Actually I have a funny story about this- TLG was dead set on having a little sister (he wanted to name her Rosie, of all things) so when we broke the news that Little Brother was, in fact, a little brother, he wailed, "Nooooo!" I got it all on video- priceless. But we talked him around by pointing out that I have a little brother (Uncle David, whom he adores) and Daddy is not just a little brother but the littlest brother, so now he's on board with the idea that little brothers can be cool, and more importantly, little brothers look up to big brothers, who get to teach them All The Things. We'll see how long this enthusiasm lasts once the squirming larva is actually here, but for now I'll take it!
-Just like with TLG, we have no clue what LBB's Real Life name will be. We have a list of names that we'll choose from once we actually meet him, but for now... LBB it is.
-Yes, this is the Last One. Steps Will Be Taken to ensure it, I assure you.
There, that ought to cover it, for now. Here's to our future adventures as a Family of Four!
6.16.2019
Father's Day 2019
(How's that for a distinctive title?)
It's been somewhat of an Emotionally Weird Father's Day.
Let me explain.
It's been five years since I've had a truly Terrible Father's Day- that being the one that occurred right after the second miscarriage, and Nathan and Katie and I got lunch at Red Lobster and the clueless waitress said brightly to us (a trio of extremely quiet, mid-thirties people eating lunch at 2pm with no children in our midst), "Are you here celebrating Father's Day?"
(Read the room, lady. Read the room.)
The 19 years preceding that, they'd run the gamut from "Crying most of the day," to "Hey who wants the day off because I will definitely take your shift and get some extra money out of this stupid made up holiday!"
But then TLG came along, and the game changed. Suddenly it was a Happy Day again, with an actual reason to celebrate, and warm, tender feelings for my Lifemate in his role as Lifegiver. It gives me great pleasure to be able to anticipate the made up holiday with joy and expectation, to be able to make it into a Special Day (or at least a day with Special Moments) for my mate. The Specialness I had planned for today was helping TLG make a card for Nathan, taking him to the second service of church so he could see Daddy play, and then going out to eat wherever Nathan wanted (not Red Lobster...) Nathan obviously left the house at his usual way-too-early time (since he plays for both services, and gets there early to run through things), so I was alone as TLG scarfed his breakfast downstairs and I ruminated my Costume Choices.
In the end I felt a very powerful call to wear an old shirt of my dad's leftover from his early Air Force days (Yep, a ~40 year old t-shirt. It has exactly one tiny hole in it, the result of a too-enthusiastic cat. They do not make things like they used to, that's for damn sure.) I didn't put much thought into it, just "Yes, this is a good shirt to wear today, to remember my father in a non-painful way."
But then... someone actually asked me about the shirt.
"Okay, I have to know," says the kind substitute pastor gesturing to my back. "Who is JP 13?"
"Oh," I blink, taken off guard by the question, and suddenly realizing it wasn't perhaps totally appropriate to wear a shirt that says, "The Hell We Can't" into my husband's church. "JP was my dad. And 13 was his..." I fumble for a way to translate into Civilian Terms. "...class... thing."
"Class of 2013?" The pastor eyes my obviously late-thirties-self with a smile. "I don't think so,"
"No no," I wave my hands helplessly. "Not the year. Their class number. Like a squadron. It was from some training he did after he graduated from the Air Force Academy. They... they got to design their own patches and..." I stretch the front of the shirt out, as though somehow he hasn't already noticed, "They chose squeezing blood from a turnip. Obviously. And I, uh... I decided to wear it in remembrance of him today." Sorry about the 'hell' thing, I add mentally.
"It's a wonderful remembrance," he says, and I like him that much more.
The conversation wrapped up pretty quickly thereafter, but the shock of it- of someone who doesn't know me asking, and me actually talking about my father- shifted my brain a bit. So that rather than "Okay thought about Daddy for 30 seconds this morning now I can put all my focus onto Nathan," it became more of a balance between the two. The bitter and the sweet. And I'm not saying it's bad, or that I'm upset it happened. But it added an emotional nuance to the day I wasn't expecting. And I may or may not have teared up a bit at the end of service when Nathan was talking to the congregation about what it means to be a good father.
Anyway.
Overall it was an extremely good day. We had (a very late) lunch at Thai Orchid, and then Nathan went to the guitar store for a few hours (because I firmly believe that Mother's and Father's Days ought to be about the parental figure in question doing something for themselves) while TLG and I hung out at home. And now I'm going to bed, because I am of an age where Good Days include Early Bedtimes.
::sigh::
It's been somewhat of an Emotionally Weird Father's Day.
Let me explain.
It's been five years since I've had a truly Terrible Father's Day- that being the one that occurred right after the second miscarriage, and Nathan and Katie and I got lunch at Red Lobster and the clueless waitress said brightly to us (a trio of extremely quiet, mid-thirties people eating lunch at 2pm with no children in our midst), "Are you here celebrating Father's Day?"
(Read the room, lady. Read the room.)
The 19 years preceding that, they'd run the gamut from "Crying most of the day," to "Hey who wants the day off because I will definitely take your shift and get some extra money out of this stupid made up holiday!"
But then TLG came along, and the game changed. Suddenly it was a Happy Day again, with an actual reason to celebrate, and warm, tender feelings for my Lifemate in his role as Lifegiver. It gives me great pleasure to be able to anticipate the made up holiday with joy and expectation, to be able to make it into a Special Day (or at least a day with Special Moments) for my mate. The Specialness I had planned for today was helping TLG make a card for Nathan, taking him to the second service of church so he could see Daddy play, and then going out to eat wherever Nathan wanted (not Red Lobster...) Nathan obviously left the house at his usual way-too-early time (since he plays for both services, and gets there early to run through things), so I was alone as TLG scarfed his breakfast downstairs and I ruminated my Costume Choices.
In the end I felt a very powerful call to wear an old shirt of my dad's leftover from his early Air Force days (Yep, a ~40 year old t-shirt. It has exactly one tiny hole in it, the result of a too-enthusiastic cat. They do not make things like they used to, that's for damn sure.) I didn't put much thought into it, just "Yes, this is a good shirt to wear today, to remember my father in a non-painful way."
But then... someone actually asked me about the shirt.
"Okay, I have to know," says the kind substitute pastor gesturing to my back. "Who is JP 13?"
"Oh," I blink, taken off guard by the question, and suddenly realizing it wasn't perhaps totally appropriate to wear a shirt that says, "The Hell We Can't" into my husband's church. "JP was my dad. And 13 was his..." I fumble for a way to translate into Civilian Terms. "...class... thing."
"Class of 2013?" The pastor eyes my obviously late-thirties-self with a smile. "I don't think so,"
"No no," I wave my hands helplessly. "Not the year. Their class number. Like a squadron. It was from some training he did after he graduated from the Air Force Academy. They... they got to design their own patches and..." I stretch the front of the shirt out, as though somehow he hasn't already noticed, "They chose squeezing blood from a turnip. Obviously. And I, uh... I decided to wear it in remembrance of him today." Sorry about the 'hell' thing, I add mentally.
"It's a wonderful remembrance," he says, and I like him that much more.
The conversation wrapped up pretty quickly thereafter, but the shock of it- of someone who doesn't know me asking, and me actually talking about my father- shifted my brain a bit. So that rather than "Okay thought about Daddy for 30 seconds this morning now I can put all my focus onto Nathan," it became more of a balance between the two. The bitter and the sweet. And I'm not saying it's bad, or that I'm upset it happened. But it added an emotional nuance to the day I wasn't expecting. And I may or may not have teared up a bit at the end of service when Nathan was talking to the congregation about what it means to be a good father.
Anyway.
Overall it was an extremely good day. We had (a very late) lunch at Thai Orchid, and then Nathan went to the guitar store for a few hours (because I firmly believe that Mother's and Father's Days ought to be about the parental figure in question doing something for themselves) while TLG and I hung out at home. And now I'm going to bed, because I am of an age where Good Days include Early Bedtimes.
::sigh::
4.05.2019
Milestones (and Their Observation)
In order to gear myself up to write an Epic Marriage Milestone Post, I (reconstructed and) listened to "There In Spirit"- aka our Wedding Soundtrack*. And then, excellent music piping directly into my ears, I read back over the blog posts tagged "musings on marriage". And then I sat and stared at the screen for a while, stumped for something else to add... and then put all that aside and, you know, actually celebrated our Ten Year Wedding Anniversary.
It was pretty low-key, as far as these things go- I've said before that a wedding is not a marriage: it stands to reason that neither is an anniversary (no matter what Big Diamond would like us to believe). My Lifemate and I have been a bit too busy having an extremely full and chaotic life together to worry about making an Artificially Big Deal out of a party that happened a decade ago. Which is not to say we made no deal of it- we played hooky from work, loaded all four of us into the car (yes, Isis got to come), and headed out on a three-hour road-trip to Newport for some fresh fish-n-chips and a visit to the Aquarium at the Coast, a treat we've been promising TLG for a long time now.
When we left the Aquarium it was shockingly sunny and lovely out, so we decided to hit the beach...
...where it promptly hail stormed on us. But then, considering it rained on our actual wedding day, I chose to take it as a little wink-wink-nudge-nudge from the Powers That Be.
(And then tried real hard not to take it too personally when it stopped the second we made it back to the car after a half-run up a suddenly-much-longer trail...)
From there we went to get some ice cream ("Just what you want when you're wet and freezing," Nathan joked, but ice cream had been promised earlier, and therefore ice cream would be had.) (I had something called Oregon Trail and it was delicious) and then it was back on the road.
We'd managed to time just poorly enough in regards to Rush Hour that a stop at the outlet mall was a welcome distraction, and I ended up getting a pair of long-needed winter boots for a very nice price (happy anniversary to me). TLG fell asleep for the last half-hour of the drive, which means I got to just pour him directly into pajamas/bed when we got home, and Nathan and I actually got a chance to watch a movie together (it was Aquaman, and it was on the enjoyable side of okay).
So yeah, I don't know that I have anything Truly Profound to say about being married for ten years. No new insights, nothing particularly poetic. Just... I'm glad I married him. Glad he's been there holding me for the best and worst days the past decade has held. Maybe there really is something to the whole Entanglement thing, that my falling in love with him as a teenager had less to do with who were were at the time and more to do with the many years we'd spend as partners in the future. ::shrug:: Or maybe I, art-major-turned-financial-advisor, really have a fundamental misunderstanding of theoretical physics. Who knows it's a mystery I guess.
One last thing to share- the "traditional" theme for gifts for the ten year anniversary is tin or aluminum. Originally I booked a lesson in tin-type photography for Nathan, but the people I booked through lost their classroom space, so we switched it to a family portrait done in tin-type. I'll share that once we actually get it done... Nathan's mind was working along similar lines, and he got three of our Bonnie-and-Clyde-themed Engagement Photos (taken by my Katie!) printed on aluminum in matching heights, so I can make a nice display at my office (or in the new house- we'll see!). (For the record, we would never go on a mass-murder spree.) (And if we did, we'd be a lot smarter about it.)
So there you have it- ten years of marriage in the books. But now that I've already written an entire entry, I'm suddenly feeling the need to keep going just a little bit longer... so let's break those ten years down into smaller Milestones, shall we?
A little over one since I changed careers. Three-and-a-half since our first child was born. Nearly five since we lost Koopa. Nearly six since we lost the first baby. Seven since we brought Isis home. Eight since we moved to Vancouver and bought our first house together. Nine since our first trip overseas. Ten since our Wedding Day.
But... that's not really where it began, is it? Let's go further back.
Ten years and two weeks since we eloped to the courthouse, giggling like fools. Eleven-and-a-half years since I packed up my life and relocated 3000 miles to see if we could work as a couple. Nearly twelve since we had the conversation that would lead to said move. Nearly fourteen since we decided we could never be together because of our different faiths, and had our first (and what I thought would be our only) kiss. Twenty since I confessed I was in love with him and he told me he didn't think of me that way- but we stayed best friends anyway. And twenty-four since we met and bonded over bouncing crawdad eyeballs in Freshman Biology.
So yeah. We've had a lot of Milestones over the full course of our relationship with just-as-much-if-not-more importance than "a decade of marriage". And I look forward to hitting many, many more on the way. Cheers!
*I actually put together over four hours of carefully curated (and mixed!) music for our entire wedding/reception (oh hello there control-freak-nature), but for the Album Itself (which was sent to those of our Nearest and Dearest who couldn't make it to the Official Shindig) I pared it down to a mere Twenty Significant Tracks:
Heart Asks Pleasure First (Ahn Trio)
Sunrise, Sunset (from Fiddler on the Roof)
Wedding Day- Duet With Heidi (Seal)
Love You More (Alexi Murdoch)
And I Love Her (The Beatles)
Hairy Trees (Goldfrapp)
Wildflowers (Tom Petty)
Lucky (Jason Mraz feat. Colbie Caillat)
Alabama Chicken (Sean Hayes)
Wontcha Come Home (G. Love & Special Sauce)
Untitled (Interpol)
Bitter Sweet Symphony (The Verve)
Holding Out for a Hero (Frou Frou)**
Singin' in the Rain (Mint Royale)
I've Got You Under My Skin (Ella Fitzgerald)
Sweet Home Alabama (Lynyrd Skynyrd)
Gamble Everything for Love (Ben Lee)
Surfer Girl (The Beach Boys)
Delirious Love (Neil Diamond)
Let's Get It On (Marvin Gaye)
**I can't actually get this version on Spotify, so I had to pause my Official Soundtrack and pop over to YouTube...
 |
| Cheeeeeeese! |
 |
| ROAD TRIP AAAAHHHHH! |
 |
| Boy loves him some "chips". |
 |
| TLG was pleased as punch to spy a megalodon. |
 |
| Life sized. For real. |
 |
| The wind was up! |
(And then tried real hard not to take it too personally when it stopped the second we made it back to the car after a half-run up a suddenly-much-longer trail...)
From there we went to get some ice cream ("Just what you want when you're wet and freezing," Nathan joked, but ice cream had been promised earlier, and therefore ice cream would be had.) (I had something called Oregon Trail and it was delicious) and then it was back on the road.
 |
| (we DID get this conciliatory rainbow on the way home) |
 |
| Exxxxcellent |
One last thing to share- the "traditional" theme for gifts for the ten year anniversary is tin or aluminum. Originally I booked a lesson in tin-type photography for Nathan, but the people I booked through lost their classroom space, so we switched it to a family portrait done in tin-type. I'll share that once we actually get it done... Nathan's mind was working along similar lines, and he got three of our Bonnie-and-Clyde-themed Engagement Photos (taken by my Katie!) printed on aluminum in matching heights, so I can make a nice display at my office (or in the new house- we'll see!). (For the record, we would never go on a mass-murder spree.) (And if we did, we'd be a lot smarter about it.)
 |
| LOOK AT WHAT BABIES WE WERE! |
A little over one since I changed careers. Three-and-a-half since our first child was born. Nearly five since we lost Koopa. Nearly six since we lost the first baby. Seven since we brought Isis home. Eight since we moved to Vancouver and bought our first house together. Nine since our first trip overseas. Ten since our Wedding Day.
But... that's not really where it began, is it? Let's go further back.
Ten years and two weeks since we eloped to the courthouse, giggling like fools. Eleven-and-a-half years since I packed up my life and relocated 3000 miles to see if we could work as a couple. Nearly twelve since we had the conversation that would lead to said move. Nearly fourteen since we decided we could never be together because of our different faiths, and had our first (and what I thought would be our only) kiss. Twenty since I confessed I was in love with him and he told me he didn't think of me that way- but we stayed best friends anyway. And twenty-four since we met and bonded over bouncing crawdad eyeballs in Freshman Biology.
So yeah. We've had a lot of Milestones over the full course of our relationship with just-as-much-if-not-more importance than "a decade of marriage". And I look forward to hitting many, many more on the way. Cheers!
*I actually put together over four hours of carefully curated (and mixed!) music for our entire wedding/reception (oh hello there control-freak-nature), but for the Album Itself (which was sent to those of our Nearest and Dearest who couldn't make it to the Official Shindig) I pared it down to a mere Twenty Significant Tracks:
Heart Asks Pleasure First (Ahn Trio)
Sunrise, Sunset (from Fiddler on the Roof)
Wedding Day- Duet With Heidi (Seal)
Love You More (Alexi Murdoch)
And I Love Her (The Beatles)
Hairy Trees (Goldfrapp)
Wildflowers (Tom Petty)
Lucky (Jason Mraz feat. Colbie Caillat)
Alabama Chicken (Sean Hayes)
Wontcha Come Home (G. Love & Special Sauce)
Untitled (Interpol)
Bitter Sweet Symphony (The Verve)
Holding Out for a Hero (Frou Frou)**
Singin' in the Rain (Mint Royale)
I've Got You Under My Skin (Ella Fitzgerald)
Sweet Home Alabama (Lynyrd Skynyrd)
Gamble Everything for Love (Ben Lee)
Surfer Girl (The Beach Boys)
Delirious Love (Neil Diamond)
Let's Get It On (Marvin Gaye)
**I can't actually get this version on Spotify, so I had to pause my Official Soundtrack and pop over to YouTube...
3.21.2019
A Woman Walks Through a Park
I'm on my habitual Afternoon Walk, a 20-30 minute affair that takes me through the neighborhood closest to my office, and includes a portion of a trail that loops around a local park. I'm on the phone with my Mom, whom I haven't had a good conversation with in almost two weeks, so I have a lot that I'm blathering on about, both personal and business, all at a reasonable volume.
I'm not sure when, exactly, the blond man gets onto the path ahead of me- I'm not paying particularly close attention to him or any of the other half-dozen people in the park, most of whom appear to be itinerants. But I do notice him walking, ponytail swinging, maybe ten feet ahead of me. He takes a side trail out of the park into the neighborhood, the same one that I typically follow.
When I exit the park, now out of sight of the others, there he is- standing still, watching me intently. It's a little creepy, but hell- maybe he's meeting a friend. I walk past him, still talking loudly to my mom about mutual fund families (don't judge). As I pass him (within grabbing distance, I now realize, but I wasn't thinking in those terms at the time) he says, "You're really pretty."
"Thanks," I say, somewhat curtly. I appreciate the compliment, but I am, quite obviously, on the phone.
"What are you doing later?" he says to my back.
"Working," I say, with more of an edge of my voice. It's 3pm and I am wearing a business suit.
"Hey, can I get your number?" He calls, now that I'm over a block away.
"I don't think my husband would like that," I say, not turning, but raising my left hand to let my ring flash in the sun. One the other end of the phone my mother says, somewhat incredulous, "Are you being harassed right now?"
"Yep," I say, teeth gritted. He doesn't say anything else, and he doesn't follow me, so that's the end of that, fortunately.
Sort of.
Because, you see, now I'm annoyed. I'm annoyed at the guy for being so rude as to talk to me when I'm already having a conversation, but mostly I'm annoyed with myself.
Why did I even answer him when he asked what I was doing? And if I was going to continue to respond out of some bizarre sense of politeness, why did I fall back on the coward's excuse of a male partner's displeasure? Why didn't I just say, "No." like the independent, unapologetic woman I am?
Why why why.
I mean, I know why. Because if you say "No" they want to know why not. Always. Or maybe they just call you a bitch, thereby jumping ahead to the exchange's natural end. If you throw up a "hey-another-male-has-already-peed-on-this-object" excuse, they have a salve to their pride that lets them retreat gracefully (or sometimes they perceive it as a challenge, but that's another set of stories altogether). So yeah, I know why I did it, but if anything that only increases my annoyance with myself: what the hell, O. Way to take the coward's way out.
(Or, to put it another way, the safe way out.)
It's so hard, sometimes, to live up to our own ideals. I'll just have to try to do better, next time.
(Because, sadly, there's always a next time.)
I'm not sure when, exactly, the blond man gets onto the path ahead of me- I'm not paying particularly close attention to him or any of the other half-dozen people in the park, most of whom appear to be itinerants. But I do notice him walking, ponytail swinging, maybe ten feet ahead of me. He takes a side trail out of the park into the neighborhood, the same one that I typically follow.
When I exit the park, now out of sight of the others, there he is- standing still, watching me intently. It's a little creepy, but hell- maybe he's meeting a friend. I walk past him, still talking loudly to my mom about mutual fund families (don't judge). As I pass him (within grabbing distance, I now realize, but I wasn't thinking in those terms at the time) he says, "You're really pretty."
"Thanks," I say, somewhat curtly. I appreciate the compliment, but I am, quite obviously, on the phone.
"What are you doing later?" he says to my back.
"Working," I say, with more of an edge of my voice. It's 3pm and I am wearing a business suit.
"Hey, can I get your number?" He calls, now that I'm over a block away.
"I don't think my husband would like that," I say, not turning, but raising my left hand to let my ring flash in the sun. One the other end of the phone my mother says, somewhat incredulous, "Are you being harassed right now?"
"Yep," I say, teeth gritted. He doesn't say anything else, and he doesn't follow me, so that's the end of that, fortunately.
Sort of.
Because, you see, now I'm annoyed. I'm annoyed at the guy for being so rude as to talk to me when I'm already having a conversation, but mostly I'm annoyed with myself.
Why did I even answer him when he asked what I was doing? And if I was going to continue to respond out of some bizarre sense of politeness, why did I fall back on the coward's excuse of a male partner's displeasure? Why didn't I just say, "No." like the independent, unapologetic woman I am?
Why why why.
I mean, I know why. Because if you say "No" they want to know why not. Always. Or maybe they just call you a bitch, thereby jumping ahead to the exchange's natural end. If you throw up a "hey-another-male-has-already-peed-on-this-object" excuse, they have a salve to their pride that lets them retreat gracefully (or sometimes they perceive it as a challenge, but that's another set of stories altogether). So yeah, I know why I did it, but if anything that only increases my annoyance with myself: what the hell, O. Way to take the coward's way out.
(Or, to put it another way, the safe way out.)
It's so hard, sometimes, to live up to our own ideals. I'll just have to try to do better, next time.
(Because, sadly, there's always a next time.)
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