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Ok, so she's not REALLY crawling yet -- but she's VERY close... thinking maybe by the end of the week.
She's up on all fours and even pushing up her bottom up into a downward facing dog sort of pose. It won't be long. (Sorry not a great shot, but you get the idea...)
Unfortunately, Moka gets the brunt of the "crawling." Kira loves to mess with poor Moka.
Who me? I'm just being friendly!
Sometimes Moka seems to like it...
But then sometimes, she doesn't... a little nip...
Trying to ignore her...
I'm sure they'll be the best of friends!
You are holding up a ceiling with both arms.
It is very heavy,
but you must hold it up,
or else it will fall down on you.
Your arms are tired, terribly tired,
and, as the day goes on,
it feels as if either your arms or the ceiling
will soon collapse.
But then,
unexpectedly,
something wonderful happens:
Someone,
a man or a woman,
walks into the room
and holds their arms up
to the ceiling beside you.
So you finally get to take down your arms.
You feel the relief of respite,
the blood flowing back to your fingers and arms.
And when your partner's arms tire,
you hold up your own
to relieve him again.
And it can go on like this
for many years
without the house falling.
**I first read this poem back in college and I remember thinking that this really felt right. This seemed like what it would mean to be together in a marriage relationship. I stumbled upon it today and was surprised to see how right I had been. I'm so blessed to have a partner I can count on to help me hold up the ceiling. Thanks, Babe. Also, my extended family has had a rough couple of weeks. I think for us, this poem can apply not only to spouses, but to parents and children who help support the house as well.
Last year, I was singing during Tinsel Town, so we didn't get to enjoy the rides and games much. This year, Brent was working, so I loaded the kids up in the stroller and we walked over to TT. For $5 the kids got wristbands that allowed them to ride as many rides as they wanted. Course there were only three things they could do -- carousel swing, train & bouncy castles. But we did them each enough to get our moneys worth!
Btw, the little girl behind Quinn is in his yoga class. She LOVES him and has evidently talks about him often as in, "I want to wear my tutu today to show Quinn." HA! Girls dressing to impress him already. You can see a bit of the ever-present tutu under her jacket. Oh dear me.
Jake having fun and more fun...
Kira had fun watching. But she quickly figured out how to just roll over in her prone stroller space...
So for the first time, I put her upright in the stroller. She LOVED the view.
And the train... the boys are in the last row of kids.
Then we played a couple of games and the boys won another gun and sword. I'm SOOOO giving in to all I ONCE said I wouldn't... Sigh.
Merry Christmas!
I've never let him touch Quinn's hair. Until now. In fact, it's become a bit of a joke that I panic if Brent gets the clippers within a half mile of Quinn's head.
Jake has Brent's hair. It's very straight and thick and needs to be cut all the time. His first haircut was at like 9 months of age, because it was hanging in his eyes already.
Quinn has my hair. It's softer and has a slight wave and so didn't need to be cut until he was nearly 2 years old. When he gets hot and sweaty it gets a little curly in back, which reminds me of my little brother, and so I've left it a little long. I cut it every once in awhile, but it doesn't need near the attention of Jake's. And I definitely didn't want Brent going at him with those THINGS... the clippers.
The other night after we ate at the Christmas Restaurant, Brent cut Jake's hair.
While watching, Quinn started begging for the same. I heard Brent say, "Well Bud, you have to ask your mom." Slightly misunderstanding, Quinn came running into the living room and said, "Ma, I wanna my HAY-UH cut. I tel-YIN YOU!!" And with that he pointed strongly at me. It was so funny that I said yes.
This is how it went:
He seemed relatively happy initially... but then things began to deteriorate...
But he survived. And when it was done I told them to put their heads together.
Handsome boys.
Three years ago, I had a fairly simple plan for our time on Okinawa. It went something like this...
During our time in Japan, I will:
1. Become fluent in Japanese. (Duh! I'll be there THREE years -- it's a TOTAL given!)
2. Travel a lot. (But we will limit our first year travel to neighboring islands, second year to mainland Japan destinations, and third year to other Space-A possibilities (Australia, hopefully).)
So how'd that go???
My Japanese is pitiful. I can speak well enough to tell Jake's teachers he won't be at school on Wednesday -- but that's about it. I took some lessons from a wonderful Japanese woman, but I never studied. And living on base, it just wasn't as necessary for me to get out there and LEARN.
And travel? Nope. We never went to the mainland or any other country. We spent one weekend on the Kerama Islands with Mom last winter and a weekend on Ie Island this October. We did spend some weekends away -- but those were all to go camping at Okuma.
Three years later, I'm feeling a lot of regrets for all the things we haven't done while stationed here on gorgeous Okinawa. Some of the things I would have liked to do: scuba diving, taiko drumming, ikebana flower arranging, ice festival at Sapporo, suits made for Brent in Hong Kong, Kagoshima hot springs, Club Med on Ishigaki, and lots more eating out at Japanese restaurants.
There are two big reasons for not fulfilling some of my hopes/dreams. During our time in Japan, I:
1. Had two babies.
2. Decided to get out of debt.
The babies thing means I was slowed down a bit at times and that I have a zoo to juggle in my house that maybe keeps me from more Japanese classes or scuba diving. But the debt thing is what has really kept our life more... simple. We first heard Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University CDs about 18 months ago, and then took the full course a year ago. We now have a solid, monthly, cash-based budget. We've paid off 3 credit cards with significant balances (2 to go) and paid off one of Brent's college loans. We have made plans to have no car payments when we go back to the States and hope to qualify to buy a house next spring.
Had I spent money in the OLD way, we would have made MANY of the trips and done many of the activities I mention above. And we'd be even deeper in debt. In some ways I regret that we discovered MONEY MANAGEMENT while we were here... why couldn't that conviction have waited until we were somewhere more boring????? :)
But to encourage myself, I'll list the unexpected joys/experiences of our time on Okinawa:
1. Jake's Yochien (Japanese Preschool) experience and resulting holiday programs & cultural days.
2. Taba-san (our Mama-san) who comes each week to help me manage my house. I have so enjoyed her ability to substitute as Grandma for the kiddos.
3. A church we love and are actively involved in.
4. Writing for OkinawaHai.com and the integral part of my Okinawa Experience the blog has played.
5. A year with Hannah. A totally unexpected gift for us all.
6. The continuation of our greening. Farmer's markets becoming regular parts of our weekly shopping and our education ala Michael Pollan, the natural parenting group, and great green friends.
7. The time/space for Brent to discover a new love and turn that into a degree to pursue back in college!
So. It's not been what I had "planned." And I do have some regrets. But I think the experiences we've managed are pretty dang awesome given our REAL life.
He always smelled like mixed nuts. He drizzled olive oil on top of his spaghetti. He wrote me short letters on his old typewriter and used to send me dollar bills "for some ice cream" when I was in college. He played the flute beautifully and looked manly doing it. He and my dad and brother have the same exact walk. He was always proud of us all and I love that I knew that even at a young age.
He always called me Jo.
He was left-handed and wrote with a hook that created a horrible chicken scratch -- but I can spot his writing a mile away. He laughed easily at us kids and took joy in simple things -- like the cafeteria at his retirement village that he loved. He volunteered constantly at his church -- doing financial things and helping with music. I remember him building things -- measuring and marking things with a pencil he'd sharpened with a knife. He took great joy in my brother and me and our activities.
He was pretty hip to the new and different ways we lived and the choices we've made. But we couldn't get him to do email no matter how many times Dad tried.
He played golf every week until just a few years ago, but continued to play tennis twice a week with other men young enough to be his children. Three weeks ago, at 96 years of age, he fell out on the court and broke his hip.
We've talked a lot in the last days about what might happen. What if the hip doesn't heal well? Is this the beginning of the end? He's in such great shape for his age that we began worrying that he would spiral downhill but possibly live for a long time uncomfortable and immobile. He would've hated that.
He fell asleep Sunday night and when the nurse went to check on him at 4am, he had passed away. We probably won't know the exact cause of death -- blood clot or heart attack, most likely. But we are thrilled. I know that seems strange. But after the initial tears yesterday, all I could be was thankful. Thankful he didn't suffer for a long time. Thankful he was living fully to the end. And thankful for my memories of him, my last grandparent.
Because of this strange military life, he never met Quinn or Kira or got to know my kids well. And for that I'm very sad.
He had so many great stories to tell about the war and life "way back when." And I mourn the loss of those stories. Kept thinking I should get a tape recorder to document them, like the one about him AWOL to get to my dad's birth. But I never did.
He loved us. And I'm sorry my kids won't get to experience that.
But wow, I'm so, so happy and proud that he blazed on to the end. I've spent a lot of time over the last 24 hours thinking about my own life and whether my current path will lead me to the same kind of glorious end. I think I may need to make a few changes.
Maybe more nuts, olive oil and tennis.
We'll miss you til we see you again, Pop.
Today was a long. LONG. day.
Last year, I decided at the last desperate second that we HAD to have a nativity set that the kids could play with. I thought it would help with the telling of Jesus' birth. But then I Googled and became totally overwhelmed with all the millions of choices!
I began a search today again. A little more calmly. And specifically looking for unique sets and/or sets that could be added to each year... Here are the ones I found. Let me know what you think!
Willow Tree Set (probably the best for adding pieces to)
Nambe Set (I have some of the dining pieces already -- love the lines)
Modern Set (crazy fun!)
VOTE! VOTE!!
Don't blink. Or you'll miss it. The whole thing. Or so it seems today.
She decided that sitting was an entirely appropriate thing to do today. Wow.
And proud, too.
Cutie-pie's military spouse designers: Dress from Mindy, leggings by Angie, amber necklace for teething pain from Kristine at Chisai Bums.
Her hang out area these days is this play-yard that Merrilee got for Jake back in the day. LOVE the stuff that lasts...
Love the perfect hand pose in this last shot...
That's my growing girl...
So, whenever someone tells me my kids look like me, I always have the same response. I crinkle up my eyes and say, "You haven't met my husband, have you." It has always seemed that Brent won most of the gene battles in our offspring.
But a few weeks back, Mom sent me some old pictures and as I've been going through them, I keep coming across shots where I think, "That's Quinn!" or whatever... I'll be sharing some of them over the next weeks.
Here's the first. A profile shot of me and Kira at about the same age... just a few weeks old... And don't ya just LOVE Dad's sideburns??
And then Quinn and I -- a bit older...
So what do you think of my attempt to prove I'm my children's mother?
