One Decade.

This was written in September 2011

Thursday morning, the baby and I were playing on the floor, with the TV on in the background (it was National Geographic's show about baby animals, mostly there for background noise for me), a commercial for a program about 9/11 aired.  Images of the twin towers collapsing were shown and my son stopped what he was doing and watched.

And then I saw it.  All over again.  But, for the first time.  A terrorist act, through my child's eyes.

I quickly shut off the TV and encouraged him to continue to play, but I couldn't stop my mind from wandering.  M will know this event as something from the past, before he was born, "ancient" history.  The stories won't come with the initial shock that shook the rest of us.  M will have the concept that people did fly planes into buildings.  It could happen.  It's not unfathomable.

Every year I learn something new about 9/11.  I was 17 when it happened, I made a concerted effort to watch the news and stay in touch with the world and politics prior, I understood what a terrorist was, and that we were being attacked, but I was still naive.  When I saw the news that morning, I told my dad with a hopeful heart that helicopters would come and rescue the people in the top floors.  Right, Dad?  He just sort of sadly grimaced.  My mind came up with a million excuses to tell myself the death toll would be limited.

As news came about the Pentagon, my mom told me that she thought that part of the building was under construction so the fatalities there were minimal.  I breathed a sigh of relief.  Years ago I learned that wasn't entirely true.  At all.  Even though I don't remember how I was acting, my mom says I was very emotional.  This was said in effort to protect me.  How will I protect my son?

My brother criticized me for not knowing this, but I recently learned that children were victims in 9/11.  I didn't know that, but maybe I didn't want to know that.  Again, we were watching the National Geographic channel just the other day and they aired a tribute to a few kids and representatives that were killed on one of the flights from 9/11 that were from NG on their way to some sort of field trip.  Later that night, I flipped on the show "I Survived..." while I graded some papers.  I like hearing the courageous stories of instinct and survival as people escape wildfires, bank robbers, and mountain lion attacks.  Not so much the stories of violence and torture.  It happened to be a 9/11 edition.  I started to look for something else, because I knew I probably couldn't "handle" these stories.  While I scrambled through the guide searching for Sex and the City, Friends, The Office, Cheers, anything... a high ranking military official described finding "things" in the Pentagon and gathering them up so their loved one's would have something to identify them with.  He described finding something very small that belonged to a very small child in great detail.  I sobbed.  What. the. fuck.

My thoughts of being in the victim's shoes are gut wrenching.  They literally make me ill.  The choices, decisions, that were made that day.

And one day I'll have to explain this to my son.  I'll look in his sweet innocent eyes, and I'll have to tell him that evil exists, hate is alive, not in a Batman movie, not in a bitter grasshopper in a Pixar film, but in people just like you and me.  I'll watch that sweet innocence leave his eyes, his heart, his soul.  He'll know that we live in a world where hate is real. And feels unstoppable.  But, it's not.

We have love.

And we have today.

So, today we have to love each other, the differences, the annoying parts, the silly parts.

We have to, just so we can get to tomorrow.

My cup runneth over

Does anyone ever feel like this?

Or is it just me?

My baby throws his arms around my neck,

Plants an open mouth kiss, straight on my check,

There's teeth, and slobber, and drool

and LOVE.

Gosh, are you serious!?  What did I do to get this lucky?

Giving Thanks

On facebook I've been writing every day what I am thankful for.  I wondered what I should write for today.  I'm really stumped, and I don't want to write I'm thankful for the NetFlix App on my iPad so I can watch my favorite episodes of The Office whenever I want.  I think I will eventually, you know, write that, but I know I haven't run out of real things to be thankful for.

Yesterday I went to church.  I saw what looked like funeral flowers around the alter, and I assumed they were for Veteran's Day.  As mass started, the priest explained that later a vigil for Carlo Eugenio, who made the greatest sacrifice while serving overseas, would be held in the church.  You can find a little more about Carlo here:

Daily Bulletin article about Carlo Eugenio

Well, during mass my little man mistakenly thought it was party time, and although he lasted almost halfway through the mass, we had to take a walk outside.  As we turned toward the front of the church, I saw the hurst, and the honor guard.  The lump in my throat grew.  As we climbed up the stairs to the front of the church (to re-try mass), I saw Carlo's picture.  I think it's something about seeing someone's face, it makes them more than a name.  It hit me, Carlo wasn't just a name, a news story.  I know he was at EHS alumn and a member of my community, but dang.  That's someone's best friend.  That's someone's nephew.  That's someone's brother.  That's someone's son, someone's baby boy.

No mother or father should ever have to bury their child.  That's just not how the world should work.  And to die at war.  There are no words, at least none I can articulate at the moment.

The article above states and my family said today they saw fire trucks, police cars, firemen, policemen, community members, neighbors, etc. standing on the overpasses saluting as the funeral procession traveled along the freeway as it made it's way from the church to the cemetery.  He was only 29.

So tonight I am thankful for you Carlo.  I am thankful for you and your family.  I am thankful for your service to our country and I am forever indebted to you for the sacrifice you have made, so that I can wake up and go to work in peace, so that I can rock my baby to sleep each night, so we can go to the beach, and the park, and on vacations, and not live in a constant state of fear or worry.  So my family can travel safely four hours down the state to come to Thanksgiving, so I can go to the store and buy whatever the hell I want, I don't have to worry about a ration or quality of food that I put in my child's tummy.  Freedom isn't free. Courage isn't the absence of fear, it is acting in spite of it.  Thank you thank you thank you.  to every single individual, who volunteered, dreamed of, was drafted, signed up for our military.  Every single person who thought it was worth it.  Everyone who knew what could happen, but did it anyway, because they had a dream, or wanted to be part of something bigger than themselves, or believed so much in the American dream.  Whatever the reason, it's because of YOU it is possible.

Thank you to our service men and woman.  Thank you to their mothers, fathers, wives, children, aunts, uncles, friends, and relatives, for raising fine people, for supporting them, for being strong for them.

If anyone reads this, please say a prayer or have a moment to reflect on this young man.  Please pray for peace and comfort for his family.  And please pray for all of our servicemen.

Curve Balls

Tonight our little family of four (fur baby included!) headed to a local baseball game.  The company was friendly and furry as it was Bark in the Park.  Baby M had a lovely time looking at all the dogs and answering with "Wow-wow" when asked "What does the doggy say?"  Don't worry, I also explained the game to Matthew and kept him updated on runs, errors, and different plays.  After M's second meltdown, we called it a night and left the game.  We had a fun time and Brooklynne loved seeing, sniffing, and licking the other dogs.

At this baseball game, one of the coaches became upset with a call and began yelling at the umpire.  It got me thinking to all the curve balls that have been thrown my way and how many "umpires" I've yelled at because of it.  Let me be honest, the challenges I've faced in my life are fairly minor, but challenges none the less, and I suppose it's all relative.  I just think to a few years ago when I was in college and so uncertain about what the future would bring.  I could have never predicted that I would be here, with both the bad and good that life has thrown my way.  It just amazes me.  It makes me realize that even though I have a picture of what the next five years might look like, it's probably not going to be anything like what I imagine.  The thing that I am beginning to realize is that despite the curve balls, there's always a positive outcome, no matter who teeny tiny it is.   For example, tonight after the coach yelled at the blue, the crowd started clapping (i don't know why), but it caused baby M to start clapping and squeal with delight.  He didn't know why the crowd was clapping, but it inspired him to clap, thus look and act extremely adorable.  I know that might seem like a stretch to have a positive outcome, but it's going to be a goal of mine.  I'm going to try my hardest to find the good in every situation, have a better attitude.  So, when I get another curve ball, I'll be ready, with a smile.

Here comes the sun

What a summer.  That sounds past tense, but there is still more left of the season.  We've practically been all over, except maybe the south.  While we had the time and money we traveled.  I'm so glad.  I know M is still a baby and won't remember much, but it's still fun to show him the world.  When he was born, a good friend of mine sent us a congratulatory card in which she had written, "Enjoy seeing the world through Matthew's eyes."  That's been the best part of summer.  It has been the best part of every single day.

Grande Vent(!) Please!!!

Seriously, there are people in this world I just do not like.  This is so unpopular, but I have to just word vomit and get this out here in the blogosphere.  I know better than this, I was raised better than this.  I should really let it go, and not waste perfectly good English words on such nonsense.  I am so sick and so tired of people placing themselves on high horses and pretending their sh!t and their horse's sh!t don't stink.  {I am already feeling 56 times better thankyouverymuch!}

It just drives me mad.  I know I make mistakes, and I'm certain their are people who might say at one point I could be described as the aforementioned.  My social awkwardness and/or shyness can sometimes be interpreted as having no interest in others because of a superiority complex, but in reality it is farther from the truth.  

The specific subject(s) of this post are more along the lines of appalling behavior.  If I could only just say how I feel in real life/world, but I suffer from the same syndrome Meg Ryan struggles with in "You've Got Mail", before she meets "NYC152" at the coffee shop, I can never get my "zingers" straight.  

{"...Instead of a heart, a cash register...."  Are you kidding me?  That is possibly the best zinger ever!}

Side track has ended.  You know what else equates nails on chalk board for me, the "I-invented-the-wheel" complex.  People that parade around with "new discoveries" in technology, design, deals from Target, whatever it is, that you know yourself or several others may have mentioned at least like maybe, I don't know a ZILLION times before!!!  This seems so negative.  I'm really not, things are going well.

The Highlights of Summer Break Currently Include:

-Baby M and I were both patted down by a lovely TSA agent at the Pittsburgh Airport.

-Visiting Aunt Helen in Sugarcreek

-My overuse of "/" in this blog post

-Sleeping in and watching Word World (something the Dept. of Ed has done RIGHT!  Thank you!) and Sesame Street with my sweet boy in the mornings.

-Strangers telling me I looked cute (if you know me, you know this is HUGE because fashion is not my thing, I typically dress like a slob and put my mother to shame, she raised me better and still encourages me to buy/wear age appropriate, correctly fitting, fashionable clothing)

- Baby M playing Patti-Cake!!!!

-Boot Camp- because I remembered that I do have ab muscles- somewhere in there!

-Knowing for sure next year I am going to have more time at home with my little man.

-My many (I've been off two weeks and many seriously covers it) adventures with my funny husband, boy, and family.

On the topic of Grande- McDonalds has the best Cappuccino, maybe it's the price, maybe it's flavor, it's better than any other designer coffee out there.

Summa Time

Pour the lemonade and get out the red checkered table cloth because it is my summer time.

I am so looking forward to this time with my baby boy.  I think back to past summers off and I think what the heck did I do.  One summer I remember I watched A LOT of tv.  I watched every ghost show there ever was and then enjoyed the movies "Gods and Generals" three times.  And the other civil war movies that is like "Gods and Generals"  only once.  "Gods and Generals" was by far my favorite.  I also baked.  I made a homemade apple pie, with a homemade lattice top crust.  I also made a pecan bundt cake that summer.  Boy, I thought I was so "busy".  Now, I really want to play and sleep.  As if I'm in middle school again.

Play and sleep.

 Just that I have the option to take a nap when/if baby takes a nap is nice!  I can't wait to see what new things the baby will learn and discover this summer and I will be there for the whole thing.  I love that little man.