Patience is a virtue. One that I don't have.

That's maybe slightly harsh. I can be patient. I can wait for cookies to bake before eating them...oh wait...maybe that's not the best example...

Okay, I can wait for, you know, things to come in the mail and for the clothes to finish in the dryer. Not so impressive?

I do have a problem with things operating outside my control. This, of course is a real problem because many, many things in truth are beyond my control. I like things to happen on my timetable, unfolding exactly how and when I imagined. Most of the time I am a logical person. I like to make plans and my plans are usually well-laid. Sometimes, however, I get caught up in how I'd like things to be rather than how they are. Re: The Matterhorn. We're starting to think more about our next PCS--we'll be moving to Ft Carson, Colorado in about two months. It is not an unusual custom to scout out a place to live before PCSing so that the transition between homes is as smooth as possible, and it was my intention to do just that. Now, because Justin is still in class and we have Chokydar to care for, the plan began taking form that Evie and I would fly up to Colorado together to go house hunting.

This plan had been in the works for several weeks when I met with Julia yesterday afternoon and was explaining to her my plans for the re-con trip. That's when it happened. I said the plans out loud. I don't know how many times I've told myself that I need to institute this safety measure when making plans--something can sound perfectly reasonable, brilliant even, in my head, but when vocalized I realize it is utter lunacy.

I began, "So Evie and I will drive up to Oklahoma City during the work week so Justin will still be at home in the evenings to care for Chokydar. I'll park the car at the airport in OKC, put the car seat on the stroller device and strap Evie back in, swing on a backpack for the trip and we'll be off. We'll get to Denver and rent a car to drive down to a hotel in the Springs. I'll have appointments to view several houses lined up in advance. We'll pick the best option, fill out our paperwork and be on our way after a few days, back to Denver, OKC and home to Lawton."

Suddenly I felt exhausted just having explained the thing. Julia looked at me like I had three eyes. "A backpack?" she began, "How big is this backpack, Michele? You're going to fit everything you need for you and Evie for 3-4 days in a backpack?"

I will miss so much having Julia around to gently tell me when I'm being insane, but that's another story. She really didn't have to say much else; just telling her my plan out loud made me realize it was not my best idea of all time. Somewhere in my eagerness for this move to go smoothly, I lost track of reason. Surely the two weeks or so in a hotel we will spend looking for housing upon our arrival in May is worth the expense, headache, and exhaustion of a multiple day car rental, plane tickets, hotel fees, and running around a new city without Justin's help, with Evie in tow.

So I take a deep breath, and wait. I will be patient, even if it does not come naturally. We will find a lovely place to live. We will have enough time to settle in before Justin deploys. You would think I would have figured it out by now, that God takes care of us, and His plans for us are better than any I can devise.

A dangerous pastime...

So I've been thinking...

In comparing this year's holidays to last year I was struck by a couple of things. Last year I was not super excited about Christmas; even thought about not putting up the tree (I did put it up, with Julia's help!). Without Justin home and Evie not old enough to know what was going on it just didn't feel the same. This year however, I was super psyched for Christmas, started decorating and crafting and wrapping and singing ASAP and yet I felt like the 25th came and went not unlike a steam engine. It was a wonderful holiday, don't get me wrong, but I felt a bit railroaded by the whole thing and have some ideas of how I may want to do things differently in the future.

Similarly, last New Year's I was incredibly excited. Again, I think it had much to do with turning the page onto the calendar year in which Justin would return from deployment. I was full of hope and enthusiasm and excitement and possibilities. This year, on the other hand, I'm having a harder time getting off the ground. I don't want to mislead you; I'm not without excitement for the new year. I think my major problem is that I look around and see so many things I'd like to improve, I don't know where to begin. And then I get exhausted just thinking about it all.

There are some small things off the top of my head that I want to do for myself. This year I want to:

-Read more. I used to be an avid reader, and nowadays I simply don't sit down to read. Anything counts, but I'd like to focus on new fiction (reading Harry Potter over and over doesn't count).

-Drink more water. Some days I go a whole day without drinking any. Unless you count the water used to make my coffee. No? I didn't think that counted.

-Declutter. Especially my wardrobe. Goodbye wishful thinking size 8 pants.

-Draw. Anything.

-Take more walks with Chokydar and Evie. (Justin too of course, but he's not just wild about them, whereas the other two can't get enough.

I'd also like to get rid of some of my emotional crutches. For instance, when I'm stressed or avoiding something, I have the tendency to gobble candy. When I say "gobble" think entire boxes in a day. Then I'll go out and get more. I thought it would be a good idea to give up candy altogether for a year, as I see myself more of an abstainer than a moderator, but this idea was not greeted enthusiastically by anyone I tested it on. ("You're going to do WHAT?!?!?") So that idea is on hold, although I'm still debating instituting it.

I came across some useful looking resolution/goal worksheets (I NEED spreadsheets, charts, calendars, check lists, etc.) and think I will look over them to try and get myself geared up and open to renewal. They are both from Simplemom.net and have gotten me thinking. This one is maybe a little too in depth for me, but is a good jumping off point, and I like the philosophy behind this post that says "winter is the time for setting goals, not starting goals."

Are you making resolutions/goals for 2010?

Isn't she lovely?

We went home for Thanksgiving and had our first big family gathering in many years. Now that we've been stateside for a few months, I've stopped thinking of everything we do in terms of stateside vs abroad, but events like this stand out in such contrast because we weren't able to take part in the family gatherings for so long.

It struck me how special it was to be in the home where I grew up. Justin and I held Evelyn's hand as she walked around the cul-de-sac where I used to play with my brother and sister. The times we had back then...riding our bikes incessantly around that little concrete circle, imagining ourselves to be cops and robbers, wild animals, you name it. We used the curb as a balance beam to see if we could walk the perimeter of the street without touching the grass or road. So many happy childhood memories flooded back for me, and how special it was to be there again with my husband and daughter (and dog) and the rest of my family.

Even the air at night had that magical "Christmas smell," as I like to call it. Parking in that driveway, letting the dog out at night in that back yard, those trees, that back patio with its particular cracks and crooked benches my parents made so long ago--I soaked it all in and appreciated it in a way I don't think I ever have before.

My mother still has a good deal of my grandmother's things from after her death in 2006, and we took time to go through some of them together. There were pictures, photos, letters, figurines, a curious lockbox no one could open (I'm still dying to know what's in there...part of me hopes we can never get it open...) and it was cathartic for me to see my grandmother's things again. I came back from Germany in May of 2006, when her death seemed imminent, to have a final visit, but was unable to be there for her funeral that June. I was able to say my goodbyes, but I never have felt complete closure. I suppose it is just that way with loved ones who leave us.

Mixed in with these things we came across a set of class pictures of my mother from her school days. I asked her if I could scan them and share them and she said I could. Isn't she completely lovely? I must say my favorite pictures are the first (she tells of having just given herself a haircut secretly in the closet days before), and the last, when she looks so grown up and transformed at age 15. You really must click on the picture and then view it in it's original size on flickr by clicking the "all sizes" button.

Now I need to find my old class pictures as well. I swear I never looked as put together as she did!

mostly pictures...wait nevermind, I ramble too.

I've got my (magical) desk assembled and was able to get my shiny new iMac put up. It. Is. Amazing. Things are slowly starting to find their way into drawers, shelves, and cabinets, clearing the floor for purposes like, you know, walking. It feels so good to have things begin to settle. There's still a long way to go, and I had the thought the other day about how I'm likely to get the last few things into place the week before the movers come again in the spring. Still, it makes for an exciting life.

If you've followed this blog for any length of time, you know that I struggled a bit (sometimes a little more than a bit) with living in Germany. It's something that is difficult for me to admit, because in my mind there is this notion that it should have been an entirely magical experience, one that we would look back on longingly and cherish for all our days, eternally pining for schnitzel and driving our children crazy with stories of black forest cake and the Rhine. It just wasn't the case for me. It was a good experience--I don't regret living there, but it was limiting in many ways and isolating. I made a few treasured friends in Baumholder, ones I hope to keep always, but on the whole it was a very lonely time. I've always considered myself an introverted person, but in my own way I've always made connections with people of shared interests. Growing up I was involved in choir, in junior high there was band, high school had choir and theater, and LTC dominated my college years. Connections like those were practically non-existent in Germany.

When I found myself unhappy, I felt the fault must lie with me. If I couldn't manage to find excitement and happiness in magical Germany, it must me my problem, my failure. As we prepared for our move back to America and I looked forward to coming home after four long years abroad, I began to worry that my restless dissatisfaction with some aspects of my life there would follow me home.

I am so relieved to find that this has not been the case. Being back home has been everything I longed for. Closer to family, closer to friends, able to communicate, sure of what to expect and able to seek out options and opportunities--we've found Lawton (often not considered a glamour spot in the Army) to be fantastic. That deserves extra emphasis: fantastic. The sun shines, the sky is so huge and blue--it seems to stretch eternally. We're in our own (rented) little home instead of a cramped apartment. We've found a church and I've joined the choir there and already met some wonderful new people. I'm excited about opportunities to take classes again.

I really didn't anticipate sitting down to write a post today. I had these pictures we'd taken the other day of Justin and Evie and looking at the ones of them playing outside just filled me with such joy. I've said it before, but I'll say it again: It is good to be home.

Let me e'splain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up.

I haven't had a chance to sit down at a computer for more than 10 minutes now for nearly a month, so please forgive me for the long absence! There is too much that has happened to capture, but I will try to give you a highlight reel:

The flight back home had some memorable moments--including 1) the moment when we thought we'd forgotten the bolts to secure Chokydar's kennel for the flight after having to split it in half to fit in the rental car; they were in Justin's pocket after all. WHEW. 2)A Chuck Norris look alike who played peek a boo with Evie on the flight for at least 10 minutes 3)the realization that Evie's "sleepy noises," a guttural grunt "uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuungh" which we know and love is, in fact, annoying to some fellow passengers 4)getting 9 hours in to the flight and resorting to choreographing "Surrey With the Fringe on the Top" from Oklahoma for Evelyn's entertainment.

All in all, it was as good of a trip as we could have expected. Upon landing, we creeped everyone out by how happy we were by completely mundane things. "Oh look! ENGLISH!...traffic signs...etc, etc."

We flew into Dallas, rented a car and drove to Houston the next day to visit family. We went to church at St. Paul's on Sunday and bought our new car, a 2009 Volkswagen Tiguan on Monday. I'd done TONS of research and we had such a pleasant car buying experience, it kind of unnerved me. Ours is silver with black cloth and the panoramic sunroof. I couldn't be happier with it so far!

We did lots of visiting and a good deal of window shopping in Houston. We made it to the zoo and the terracotta figure exhibit at the Museum of Natural Science. And we ate a LOT of good food...Starbucks, Panera, Le Peep, Ruggles, Coldstone, Chick-fil-a, Saltgrass Steakhouse, BJ's Brewery, Outback, Blue Bell ice cream, and Brown Sugar's BBQ just to name a few. Now we are fat and making our recovery.

We got to visit with some good friends, including the beautiful Jennifer Gilbert, and The Boy and family. SOOO good to spend time together!!

We drove up to Oklahoma on Wednesday--the 8+ hour drive was maybe even more exhausting than our transatlantic flight. We left around 6:30 am from Houston and didn't arrive in Lawton until nearly 4 pm.

We're in guest housing now (aka a rather crummy hotel), but it does have a (barely) passable kitchenette, so at least we've been able to start weaning ourselves from fast food. We're hunting for a home to rent now, and have a likely prospect that we hope to secure in the coming days.

I can't get over how excited I am to be back in America, how overjoyed I am by little pleasures, seeing family and friends, and by having a drive-thru Starbucks that's new in Lawton since the last time we were here.

Life is so good.

I have this little problem. Did I mention I have this problem?

It's crazy to me that it's been two weeks since I've posted anything. It's been one of those time paradox things lately where time seems to both drag on forever and fly by. We've been both crazy busy and bored out of our minds. With just the government furniture and what we're carrying with us, it's been a task to try and occupy Evelyn and maintain her usual routine. We've been taking a lot of walks.

A LOT.

The other day I was walking down to the dental clinic to put in a request for my records and one of the orange housing repair trucks drove up to the curb and stopped. The driver got out to go about his business, but not before drawing up short and looking at me, "You are always walking! I see you walking everywhere all the time!"

Our car has shipped now, so it's in part out of necessity. Walking is also often necessary to get Evie to take a nap. She'll fall asleep in the stroller when she simply refuses to in the travel crib. She never has a problem (KNOCK ON WOOD) going to sleep in the crib at night, but during the day, she fights it tooth and nail and will not submit. It makes for a pretty miserable situation for all involved, so when things get too cranky, we just go for a walk. Chokydar is loving it.

I keep thinking of all of these "I can't wait until..."s. I can't wait until we clear housing (Tuesday). I can't wait until we're on the plane (Friday). I can't wait until we're in Houston (Saturday). I can't wait until we get our cell phones, buy our car, get to Oklahoma, find a place to live...the list is kind of endless. Lately, I've begun to get a little sick of myself.

I've been looking forward to this move for MONTHS now. Maybe even years, really. In the past, it's been a low level buzz in my consciousness, always in the far background of my mind. Since about July though, it's been more like rock music (or Broadway showtunes in my case) playing loud and clear, pretty much dominating my every waking thought, and I'm officially tired of it.

There have been so many things to do, so many details to take care of, it's been a kind of dream and nightmare for someone who's pretty detail and planning obsessed as I am. It's fun to see everything coming together, but it's also incredibly nerve racking to ensure that things go off without a hitch. I imagine all the worst case scenarios and worry about them to no end. What if our appointment/reservation at "x" wasn't written down properly on their books and we show up and they have no room for us?? What if I accidentally packed something essential? What if Evie gets sick or hurt? What if we get to the airport and they refuse to let Chokydar fly? It isn't helpful and it isn't productive. And it's downright annoying.

I caught myself the other day repeating the same thing to Justin for the third time in a row. Okay, maybe not in a row...I probably threw in a random sentence every other line to make it seem like I wasn't harping on the same worry over and over again. I could tell by his exasperated but loving expression that I was starting to grate on his nerves, and suddenly I realized I was grating on my own nerves. I told him, "I'm going to try and stop repeating myself. I'm doing it all the time and it's beginning to get really old. I know it's just because I'm stressed and worried but I just keep saying the same things over and over and so" [pause] "So I going to try and stop...repeating...myself...OH CRAP I'M DOING IT AGAIN!"

It's been an exciting few months, but I'm ready to be settled. I'm ready to pick up my "real" life again, to get back into my drawing and crafts, to cook real food, to run errands, to visit with friends and family, to grow and begin a new chapter.

And apropos of nothing, here are some great videos of Evie--one of her playing with Chokydar and one where she tries to mail herself to Abu Dhabi. Enjoy!

Never good enough

I came across this article on Unclutterer, You don't have to be the best and wanted to link to it. I know for me, I often feel very alone in my flaws and shortcomings. It's easy to look around at others and be completely frustrated and demoralized by people that "do everything" or seem to navigate life effortlessly. The funny thing is, though, I think most people feel the same way I do--struggling to balance competing aspects of life, attempting to keep up appearances for others' sake as well as for our own.

As a child I was exceptionally blessed in most of my endeavors. I succeeded maybe more often than was good for me, and somewhere along the way, I began to fear failure and rejection in a way that became a bit paralyzing. It's a problem I have with my art--I don't want to sketch, I was to produce a masterpiece on the first attempt. I am so frustrated by my (completely natural) inability to produce perfection on the first try, I have difficulty putting pencil to paper (or stylus to tablet, as sometimes the case may be), I'm still working on this, and I'm always amused and relieved to hear of this problem being shared by others. Just who exactly are we trying to prove ourselves to?

I'm reminded of this as we prepare to make the move to a new place as well. I think very often people share social anxieties that feed off of one another. You meet a new person--they're a little nervous to meet you, you're really nervous to meet them. If you're both waiting for the other person to take the first step, you both walk away feeling that the other person is cold or unfriendly, when really, you may have just both been hoping the other person would do the honor of breaking the ice.

Anyway, it's something I've been thinking on lately--embracing myself, flaws and all, and being proud of my strengths as well (I sometimes have the tendency to diminish them to the point of degrading myself). It's a bit fun to get to try and renew yourself with a fresh group of people. You have another chance at making a first impression, and just maybe you can manage to improve, without worrying about being the best.

Trash Trash Treasure

I'm cleaning house.

Not just in the normal way (I'm not very good at that anyway)--light dusting, wiping windows, that sort of thing...No, I'm cleaning. I'm getting rid of things that should have long gone (why do I still have makeup from highschool??) and things that were wishful thinking (a pair of skinny pants that will NEVER fit.

It's a process that's full of reflection. Stuff can say a lot about you--why you keep certain things, why it's hard to let other things go. I've found it's cathartic too. It's very freeing to clean out clutter that's been weighing on you, conciously or otherwise.

There are some things that I won't let go. Move after move, we'll keep carting them along, not because they're functional, or beautiful, or monetarily valuable, but because they're strings connecting my heart to the past. I just came across a box full of cards from our wedding. I'm usually not a pack rat in this way, but for some reason (maybe because that was a hectic busy time right before a move too) I kept ALL of the cards that were given to us for our wedding. Some are just signed with a name, others have a line or two of well-wishes, and still others make my eyes water to this day because of the heartfelt message sent by our loved ones.

It's easy sometimes to get caught up in the day-to-day; in minor (or major) stresses, frustrations, and anxieties. It's been an isolating time these past 3.5 years in Germany. I can't say we've made tons of close friends--but we have made some that will last a lifetime. I'm not sure how I've grown or changed, but I know that I have.

Thank you, to all of the special people in my life who've taken time to make me feel special. I'm thinking about you today and hope somehow you can tell.

Sharing Again...

Evie woke up yesterday from her post-shot nap feeling fabulous. I'm not kidding. She's all smiles and sunshine, all yesterday evening and through this morning. Amazing. Perhaps I should inject her with weakened live-viruses more often... (just kidding)

This morning while she was napping I was perusing babble.com and came across some thought provoking articles--too many to share, actually (but check out this one if you've got the time!). Through link clicking, however, I ended up at the personal blog of one of their contributors, The Happiest Mom. For all of you children-having-types, check it out for sure. That link is for an article entitled "WOHMs, WAHMs, SAHMs: who wins the “unhappiest” award?" and it hits home a topic that I've been mulling around for quite some time now--the fact that what is right for YOU, isn't right for EVERYONE and that simply because it's right for YOU doesn't make it better.

This thought, of course, doesn't just apply to parenting, but to just about aspect of life. I can't stand fish or ketchup, but I recognize that there's nothing fundamentally wrong about either. For many people, hanging out at the bar is their idea of a good time--I can think of few things I'd less like to do.

It's been an adjustment living in an Army community. Always before in my life I'd naturally gravitated to people with shared interests. Inevitably they understood me, because they were like-minded. In this community it's been something of a different story. I'm something of an oddball here--from my views on feminism to parenting to the way I enjoy spending my free time. I feel confident about what I believe until I'm face to face with someone looking at me with a distressed and pitying expression as I answer the "What have you been up to lately?" question. My idea of a good time is not theirs, and they worry for me, which I guess in a way is sweet. The only thing is, I feel the same baffled confusion over how they chose to spend their time, but I'm so in the minority I lose by default.

Of course the really incidious thing is that there are certain choices that probably are better than others. I think we all worry to some extent about the choices we make--as a parent, financially, spiritually, personally, etc. We seek to compare our choices with those around us, not out of some petty quest to put the other person in their place, but rather to gain a personal validation of the decision we've made and are hoping is the right choice.

Wow, all that before 10 am.

Right up my alley

I may be way behind on discovering this, but I've just found this cool website, polyvore.com for creating collages from images and text around the web. It seems it is used primarily for fashion and interior design collages, but I can many other creative applications. It has a great user interface and a bookmark you can add to your link bar so that any image found on the web can be easily clipped while on that site for use in a collage. For years now I've kept clippings from magazines and websites, but have always struggled for the best way to organize them. I've printed them out and put the in page protected binders, I've created inspiration bulletin boards, I've archived them through my amazon.com wishlist and my tumblr or here on my blog.

The thing I like so much about polyvore is that you're able to quickly resize, rearrange, bring to the forefront or send to the back any image in the set. You can of course do this sort of thing in photoshop, but it takes more time as that's not photoshop's sole function, as in polyvore. Bighugelabs.com has a neat collage feature, but they automatically crop and scale images, and sometimes the result leaves something to be desired.

I'm already excited by the possibilities for this tool as a way of visualizing a set of items. Back in March, there was a sale at DWR that nearly made me lose my mind in a frenzy of I need a dining table RIGHT NOW. I know I am susceptible to the urgency of a limited time "good deal" and so I was able to regain my sanity before I acted rashly. I like to comparsion shop, and sometimes it's hard to get a good idea about your options unless you can see them side by side. For example, with the tables, viewing them next to one another makes it easy to find strengths and weaknesses--i.e. I like the legs on this one, but prefer this other color, etc. With polyvore I can add images of chairs too to mix and match potentials there as well.

As we get ready for our big move, part of the preparation has been in selling some of our old things to clean house and pare down our possesions. I don't want to drag around a bunch of stuff I don't love, even if I'm not the one physically doing the dragging. Doing this, I've realized how much my tastes have changed over the past 4 years. As a 22 year old, I had no idea what kind of things I would really use when setting up a wedding registry, and thus many things I thought we really needed, we haven't used at all. For instance, we registered for a beautiful pattern of fine china and have used it maybe on two occasions. It's a lovely pattern, but I'm not convinced it was the best choice for our needs. I assembled our living room here piece by piece with no real plan, and it shows. Now, I like an ecclectic style in design, but there are certain pieces and colors that mix and match better than others. The more I look at images, the more I learn, and I think I've finally internalized the fact that decorating is a process, not something I should expect to do all at once. Of course, Justin lovingly shakes his head at all of this--from the satisfaction I get from comparing tables to my fickle nature and the difficulty I sometimes have making decisions.

Anyway, all that is to say, I think that polyvore will be a useful tool to help me visualize and catalogue ideas. Feel free to weigh in on the things that I post, to help me see flaws in my logic or point out things you like too!

Here's my first quick mock up. So...we already have a bed. It's a sleigh bed we bought in Oklahoma for cheap after we were married and it's perfectly functional. It's totally fine. And I want a different one. I've told myself that after I work on getting things we really need (like a dining table), in a few years I can replace our bed with a new one. Lately I've been really into canopy beds, and these are a few I've really been taken by. Unfortunately, my favorite one (bottom center by Niermann Weeks) is sold only to "the trade," meaning designers, and the selling price to me would be in the range of $8,000. Yeah.....How do I always gravitate to the most expensive possible choice?

In which I want an iphone so bad I could burst...

I can't believe that it's Sunday and that tomorrow is a week from when Evelyn turned 11 months. All week long I've been meaning to take her "official" month marker pictures, and have not done so. I've been busy, well, making busy work for myself mostly--obsessively planning things that are still too far out of my control to have any sway over (in this case, the PCS move), and yet still I plan. I research, I make excel spreadsheets (I'm not kidding), I organize my thoughts and print things out to put into page protectors and make little binders of crazy organization because it makes me feel like I'm doing something productive. In a way, it does end up being productive. I become really well informed about whatever it is that I'm obsessing about, but if I'm being honest, there's got to be a more streamlined, time-effective way of going about this all.

I've been meaning to post more lately, but I'm still soaking in all of this "having my husband living with me thing." It all seems totally normal now, but in a large part, this blog was a means to express myself in his absense. I came here to chronicle Evie moments for him to see or to chronicle ideas when I didn't have anyone else to act as a sounding board. In all of that I really found that I enjoy writing as an outlet, although I'm still horrified that I'll come back in a few years and cringe at all of the things I write about...that ALWAYS happens. But as trivial, mundane, eccentric, or silly as any of what I write about may be, it helps me to keep moving forward, to serve as another mechanism for organizing my thoughts and motivate me to do more, do better.

In the coming weeks, I'm bound to blabber on about our coming move. We're about 12 weeks out now from moving back to America and are starting to make concrete plans for shipping our belongings home, our travel arrangements, where to stay, what to buy, etc. It's now been over 3 years since I've set foot on American soil and as I make our preparations I've started to have this creeping feeling of apprehension...I think I may have a bit of culture shock upon returning to the states. Of course, I have researched this too:

Honeymoon Phase - During this period the differences between the old and
new culture are seen in a romantic light, wonderful and new. For example, in
moving to a new country, an individual might love the new foods, the pace of the
life, the people's habits, the buildings and so on.

Negotiation Phase - After some time (usually weeks), differences between the old and new culture become apparent and may create anxiety. One may long for food the way it is prepared in one's native country, may find the pace of life too fast or slow,
may find the people's habits annoying, disgusting, and irritating etc. This phase is often marked by mood swings caused by minor issues or without apparent reason. Depression is not uncommon.

Adjustment Phase - Again, after some time (usually 6 – 12 months), one grows accustomed to the new culture and develops routines. One knows what to expect in most situations and the host country no longer feels all that new. One becomes concerned with basic living again, and things become more "normal".

Reverse Culture Shock (a.k.a. Re-entry Shock) - Returning to one's home culture after growing accustomed to a new one can produce the same effects as described above. The affected person often finds this more surprising and difficult to deal with than the original culture shock. (via Wikipedia, that most reliable of sources)

I love the little casual throw away addendums, "Depression is not uncommon" or about reverse culture shock being "more surprising and difficult to deal with." Sweet. ;) Oh, and I almost forgot--not only is this returning to America from Germany, it's returning to civilian land from army world. I never knew it was different until I crossed over. It's a happy and sad thing, but I'm not sure I quite fit in anymore.

But seriously, Justin and I were watching the previews on a borrowed DVD the other day and I was taken aback. Not only had I not heard of any of the movies (or some of the actors), but there were tons of cultural references being thrown around that simply flew over my head. And then there are the phenomenon I am aware of, but completely detached from--Twilight? Yeah, couldn't care less. Highschool Musical 3? 4? What are they on now? Sorry, I haven't watched television or most movies in over three years. I think there may be some catching up that is possible, but really, I'll just have to get used to having a pop cultural reference gap from the years 2005-2009. I missed those years. Sorry. Ask me something about schnitzel or Belgian beer.

And THEN, (and this is really another post in the making) I've started researching things we'll want to buy on our return to the states. We're going to be in the market for a car, cell phones, a dining table, a washer and dryer, etc. Tons of stuff. These are all normal purchases people in America make from time to time in their lives, but I am totally overwhelmed by all the new cool stuff that is out there. The iPhone?? So what if I haven't used a cell phone regularly since 2005, I need a phone that can voice recognize and answer my questions and has a built in digital compass for when I get lost in the woods. I have such gadget lust, it is hard to describe to you. I vascillate between being totally convinced that this phone will CHANGE MY LIFE to realizing I'm being seduced by the dark side. Not that there's anything wrong with the iPhone--not that I wouldn't love to have one...I'm just thinking it may be overkill to jump straight from training wheels to a corvette. I've been living a very laid back lifestyle over here, not so much by choice as by necessity, but it is what I've become used to.

Anyway, it's all stuff rattling around in my head. If any of you would like to give me product endorsements on things I really should look into getting, please by all means send them my way! ;)

Virtually connecting

One of the blogs I frequent is Gretchen Rubin's The Happiness Project and I just had to share the latest post, an interview with Kristin van Ogtrop, the editor of Martha Stewart's Real Simple.

I totally identify with so much of what van Ogtrop says, it's kind of uncanny. From "obsessing over stupid, control-freak things" to Starbucks coffee and not being a night person--that's all me. I could go on and on about the Happiness Project and the specifics of how I've really enjoyed perusing all of what Rubin has to share--I've been meaning to for a while now--but instead, I just wanted to focus on how amazed I am at the internet and the opportunities it's created for me to "connect" with like minded people.

I'm slightly hesitant of all of this, because of the "it's not real" factor, except for the fact that I feel in many ways, it's more real than what I experience in my day to day interactions with "real live" people. The people I have encountered on the internet, via my online class, through blogs, through commentors from Illustration Friday or flickr--they have opened themselves and shared part of who they are in a very real and generous and beautiful way. This, I think, has been especially meaningful to me, isolated in a foreign country, surrounded by people--many of whom I'm not so fond of--that, for the most part, do not share in my interests, and living for the past year with an infant and dog (although very intelligent ones, on both counts). The chance to reach out and connect with people online has been really, really great.

So thank you, to all of you who come here to share in this with me. Thank you for reaching out, for commenting, for inspiring me and encouraging me. It really means a lot. :)

Why am I still awake?

Usually when Evie has a rough week (which happens every month and a half or so) somewhere along the way, bleary-eyed and exhausted I am struck with a panic-tinged thought: What if this doesn't go away?!? What if she decides to keep this up??? So far, this fear has been unwarranted. Mercifully, if I'm patient and listen to her cues she settles back into her regular routine. I am supremely grateful for this, because handling handling her on my own if "bad week" mode was the norm would be not a lot of fun.

This past week she hasn't been napping much during the day and has woken during the night (I thought we were past that, Evie!!). Of course the timing coincided with my super-hooah motivated plan to wake BEFORE she wakes to work out and exercise. I had only managed this maybe once or twice before Bad Week hit, and thus haven't managed again--until this morning.

I can't tell you what a huge difference it makes for my outlook on the day when I start it off right. Even if the rest of the day is kinda bumpy (as was today), I'm able to take it in stride because AT LEAST I got in my workout. I feel more energized and productive first thing, and it spills over into everything else for the day. On the other hand, if I start off poorly--groggy, waking to a cranky Evie who won't go back to bed, we spend half of the morning in pjs, dragging ourselves around doing the routines: eating, playing, and pleading for sleep so that I can go take a nap as well. On those days, the first opportunity I have for myself isn't spent doing homework or working out or cleaning or taking care of online business--it's going back to sleep, which means I'll wake again when she does, usually still feeling exhausted, only then feeling guilty and unproductive on top of that.

It's a paradox that when I'm tired, usually the answer isn't going back to sleep, but pushing a little harder. Very often my lethargy comes from being lethargic. (This isn't always the case--sometimes I REALLY do just need a nap.) I've been enjoying a photography book, A Year of Mornings: 3191 Miles Apart and came across this passage in the introduction by one of the author/photographers, Stephanie Congdon Barnes:

What I love about mornings is the sense of possibility. I often lay in bed
at night, the weight of what's been left undone on top of me like a lead
blanket, but I awaken to find that I've thrown that blanket aside. The night has
erased my failures, my inadequacies, my mistakes. Today will be the day. My
mornings are not idyllic. As a mother (my daughter and son were seven and five
at the time of this project), my actions are dictated by the needs of others as
soon as I awake. There are breakfasts to be made, lunches to be packed, lost
shoes to be found, tangles to be tamed, schedules to be coordinated with my
husband. But still, in all these actions, these endless repetetive preparations
(of which I am quite ofen resentful), there is that sense of possibility. We all
have morning rituals that give us the comfort of familiarity even if our days
are unknowns. My son spilling his milk in the same spot every day is both
aggravation and inspiration. That spot says here we are again; we're going to
try to have a good day.

That passage just really spoke to me when I first read it and has been a friendly little encouraging voice, urging me to try and start each day right. I feel the exact same way about mornings and night and the contrasting sense of a morning's endless possibility vs. the evening's burden of things left undone. Lately I've been staying up way too late (like now) because it is so often the only time I have for myself for uninterrupted pursuits. It's so hard to cut that short and go to bed, but I know that I'm just making it more difficult on myself tomorrow.

Okay, really...off to bed with me.

Oh Reginald...I DISAGREE!

I have another article to share with you! This one I came across in Elle Magazine, and is titled "Die, Mommy, Die!" I'm not sure who thought that was a good name, but I guess it does capture the tone of the article well. I found it interesting that this article was in a fashion magazine rather than a parenting one. I mean, it seems obvious why the article might not be so well received in a parenting magazine, but reading it, I got the feeling I'd overhead someone talking trash about me in a public bathroom while I was unseen in a stall.

In a way, Hass is speaking to the same "over-parenting" phenomenon as Granju, but I felt her tone and attitude were incredibly off-putting. She makes several good points about how she feels blathering on and on about your children at work to your co-workers is inappropriate, but in my experience, people can be horrible conversationalists in general, so why single out mothers?

She likens the question “Isn’t [having children] just the best thing you’ve ever done?” to the old Catch 22, "When did you stop beating your wife?" I can see how you'd feel painted in a poor light for answering 'no,' but I can't say I can indentify with that answer.

I'm a feminist. I went to a liberal womens' college. I count myself as one of Hass's described "smart, evolved, successful women." I believe that women are just as, if not sometimes more, capable as men in most endeavors. (This is a bigger side topic I won't go into now...) But I also HIGHLY value my role as a mother. I see it as a role that strengthens who I am, not dimishes me. I choose to devote myself "full time" to raising our children, rather than working outside of our home, and I do not think that makes me less successful than working mothers/women in ANY WAY. I'm not trying to give working mothers a hard time; I understand that some people need to or choose to work, and that's their call--but to imply that I am achieving less by "simply" being a stay at home mom is insulting.

Hass says

It’s not as though I don’t love my daughter. Or that I take her for
granted...But I have never once thought of her as the best thing I’ve ever done.
Perhaps that’s a function of having had a better-than average work life, but
it’s also because I’m loath to take credit for my daughter as an accomplishment.
Reproducing, even for me, who had to go to such lengths to become a mother,
doesn’t feel like a personal achievement; it’s just a natural part of the human
cycle. That’s one of the reasons I love being a parent; it’s comfortingly
prosaic, delightfully unremarkable. Can you imagine women in small Indian
villages standing around the local well asking for reassurance from the others
that having their brood of kids is “the best thing they’ve ever done”? It’s a
ready-made caption for a New Yorker cartoon.

Like I said, I see her point here, but I think her attitude sucks. I can't (and wouldn't) take credit for Evelyn as "an accomplishment," but the fact remains, nothing I will EVER do or create will rival the miracle that is HER. I say this not only because of who she is, but because of all that potentially can come from her as well. She is a human being! She can reason and has a soul! My contribution to the betterment and continuation of humanity through raising a good child would far outstrip the achievement of landing the top spot at a Fortune 500 company.

I think that by continuing to nurture myself and my interests and goals makes me a better mother. My life isn't entirely sacrificed on the altar of child-rearing, but there IS sacrifice involved and that too strengthens me.

When it comes down to it, I think I'm splitting hairs here. As a mentioned before, I see similarities between this article and the one I posted yesterday, but the tone is so different, I see one as successful and the other insulting.

What do you think?

Babble: The Over-Parenting Crisis

I came across this article last week and have been meaning to post it ever since. I've been thinking waaaaaay too much lately, but I guess that's something I've always done...

I recently bought a bunch of parenting books on amazon because I had this moment of crisis (ha ha, just a moment, Michele?) where I wondered "What if I'm doing this ALL WRONG?" I mean, without Justin here to even me out, what if I'm making huge errors, being over protective, holding her back, completely stunting her growth and development??? Now, if I'm being rational, I KNOW I'm doing a good job. I know it. She's doing great. But I still worry. And I have to wonder, is this just normal--mothers have always felt this way--or do I feel this way as a result of the hyper-parenting trend in our society? With all of the attention on celebrities' babies, all the "necessary" gear, all of the scary warnings out there about everything from vaccines to BPA-free plastics, it's hard to navigate through as a parent without getting swept up in the hype just a tiny bit.

I always breathe a sigh of relief when I come across an article like Granju's, because it bolsters my confidence and eases my worries (at least for a while). I sometimes feel that the message out there is, "if it isn't hard, you're not doing it right!" or "the more effort the better!" Instead of letting things unfold as they please, I have like it's my personal responsibility to make things happen. I should be rubbing Evelyn's gums and chanting over her while she's asleep in order to assure her teeth will eventually come out. She's not crawling/walking/composing sonnets yet? Exactly what have I been doing all day long?

Granju, while she is a leading advocate for "attachment parenting" describes her parenting philosophy as one of "benign neglect." She says

Until recently, the essential tasks of parenting were seen as nurturing and
socializing children. Today, however, this simple mandate seems criminally
neglectful. Now, parenting requires constant vigilance, unflagging attention to
every detail of our children's lives, and ever present monitoring of their every
activity.

While I agree wholeheartedly with her sentiment in the article, if I look at myself, I can see areas where I've succumbed to the hazards of obsessive worry and over-parenting. The fact that I waited to introduce Cheerios to the girl until she was almost 8 months old for fear she'd choke is, I know, silly. (I'm still nervous to continue introducing other "real" solid foods.) I still worry about her breathing at night, even though she is more than capable of getting herself out of a pickle--what she would suffocate on in her barren crib, I'm not sure, but I worry about it just the same. I worry that my lame-o housekeeping skills will make her ill, crawling around inhaling who knows what, and yet, the child has yet to have so much as a cold (knock on wood).

I think when it comes down to it, I have a lot more work to do on ME than HER.

It's Not Funny

It's April Fool's Day today and I have to admit that while I think I have a really good sense of humor, I don't really take jokes well, or perhaps better put--I don't take well to being the butt of a joke.

I don't actually know how true the following story is, but it's the way I recall the ordeal and for the purposes of my therapy sessions, that's what matters, right?

One year, when my sister and I were elementary school age (I don't think that my brother had started school yet), my parents decided to play an April Fool's Day joke on us. It must have been the end of a grading period or coincided with the beginning of spring break, or something, but for whatever reason, April Fool's Day fell on a school holiday that year. Denise and I were sitting on the floor in our pajamas playing on dad's (waaaaay old school) computer. The way I remember it, it might have been PacMan. Anyway, there we were, enjoying our day off, when the phone rang. I don't remember which of our parents answered the phone, only that the one sided conversation on our end sounded something like this:

"Hello?"

"Ah yes! How are you?"

"Really?? Oh no..."

"Of course! They're right here..."

And then the phone was passed to one of us, maybe both of us in turn. The voice on the other end said something like this:

"Hello. This is Mr. Davis, principle at Moore Elementary. I'm wondering why you aren't at school today. This is a school day, and everyone else is here..."

From this point things get a bit fuzzy, as I may have blacked out from panic and fear. You have to understand that my sister and I were model students, and I guess, pretty gullible too. I seem to remember bursting into tears and streaking frantically into the other room to try and dress for school. Life was over.

Like I said, I'm not really sure how much of that story is actually true. I'm pretty sure that one April Fool's Day, a friend of the family called pretending to be the school principal--as for the accuracy of the rest, we're going to have to check with my sister and parents. I'm not sure if it was something my parents thought up or not. I have to wonder, if it was, at what point they realized that they may have gone too far and had to try and talk us down from the tearful and terrified frenzy in which found ourselves. If that part was even as bad as I remember.

So, I've never much liked April Fool's Day. It always seems to me to be a very mean spirited day. That being said, looking back, after all the tears were dried, I can't help but wonder if my parents got a good laugh out of the whole thing. I mean, come on, it must have been pretty funny. We were so serious and studious. Who would have thought we'd take it so dramatically? It's something I sometimes ponder now as a parent myself--how can I avoid (as much as possible) being insensitive to my child's sensitivities? To some extent, it will be unavoidable, and I suppose that's just part of life.

Thinking about this today, I remembered this video I saw a long time ago on You Tube. You may have seen it already, but I thought it tied in perfectly today, what with laughing at a child's obvious heartfelt concern. Terrible, right? I know. Just try not to laugh though...

In which I am sad without specific reason

355 days. In other words, 11 months and 22 sunrises since Justin deployed. April 2nd is the one year mark. It feels like forever.

Most days I try not to think about it too much. Just keep my nose to the ground, work hard, and try to stay busy. Most days, despite my complaining about Baumholder, I am happy. Insanely happy actually, because even though he's not here right now, I know what I have, and what I have is once in a life time.

But then there are times--and they tend to sneak up on me, when I can actually feel an empty place in my guts. It's a dull ache, a physical longing that involuntarily makes my eyes well up with tears. I choke them back with a smile, knowing they don't do any good. See, it's happening even now as I type...

Today I went to the commissary. They actually have a banner made up that hangs outside declaring, "The Commissary: It's Worth the Trip!" (have I posted about this before? I can't remember...I know I've laughed about it with Julia...) I have decided I'm going to come up with a mock presentation of the other banner options that were rejected for this stellar advertising campaign. Anyway, like I said, it came upon me out of nowhere. There I was, circling the dingy unflatteringly yellow-lit isles and somewhere about the frozen food section I was nearly overcome with tears. I am just so tired. So tired of eating the same foods week after week, of going to the same places day after day. Tired of the same crappy weather (in fairness, we've just come off of a week of GLORIOUS sunny beautiful weather, but it's back to grey and rainy and cold today--I'm sure it doesn't help my mood). I'm tired of living my life alone when I should be sharing it with my husband. I'm tired of being the only one here to marvel at our beautiful child. Just in case you had any doubts--DEPLOYMENTS SUCK.

I'm not looking for pity. This is our life. I'm so proud of Justin. I know he aches to be here every bit as much as I want him here. I haven't let a tear fall today, and I don't think I will. I'll go put away the tomato sauce and chili beans, the baby food and diapers and cross off one more day on the calendar.

P.S. I love you, Justin.

Mary Poppins wind

We're having Remember Who's In Charge weather here in Baumholder.

A couple of days ago I remarked to myself that it was beginning to feel as though there was a hint of spring in the air. Which of course, I knew, meant snow would be coming soon. The past three years, just when you thought you were getting clear of winter, a snow storm dropped several inches on your head.

Of course, it's only Februrary, so we're not nearly out of the woods yet, but sure enough, two days ago it began snowing. Yesterday it snowed a little in the morning but was mostly dry the rest of the day. When I went to take Chokydar out last night, however, the ground was no longer visible. There must have been at least 3 inches covering everything and I was surprised at how quickly it must have come down that evening.

This morning it's all gone! It's raining pretty steadily and there's some serious wind. Chokydar always gets really excited by crazy weather. With the wind and rain coming down sideways I had to change pants once I got back inside from the sweats I had worn as pajamas to---well, more sweats. No judging please.

When I was a child I used to love windy days, especially on the walk home from the bus stop after school. The walk was maybe two blocks; from our house it was down to the corner of the cul-de-sac and then 90 degrees to the right and just down to the next corner. It seemed a lot longer as child, and I would day dream and sing outloud and pick flowers as I walked/skipped/ran home. I was totally oblivious to the fact that anyone might be observing me through a window...I imagine some of the neighbors got a good laugh now and then as I practiced what I thought must be a really good dance move or leap. Windy days were the best, though, because it felt as if I might get swept up and could fly away. I'd spread my arms out wide and jump sometimes, and if I were really lucky, I had an umbrella that day and I got to fully induldge my imagination, doing a full out Mary Poppins.

Watching Chokydar race around with the excitement born in the raw energy of the weather makes me so happy. I think we'll enjoy some hot chocolate today, watch some fantastic B-grade science fiction, play on the floor and crochet. Life is good.

Ideas?

This entry is as much a mental note for me as something I want to share, but hopefully there are those of you, happy readers, who will also find it applicable in some fashion or other.

I came across this post from a blog penned by a woman named Jillian Tamaki. I do not know her, but enjoyed reading her thoughts on "Idea Generation." As an artist, or a person with creative leanings in general, I often find that creativity has the frustrating tendency to dry up. At other times it flows so freely it is almost overwhelming. Tamaki's post on idea generation addresses her creative process.

The first step on her list is "be interested." I think maybe more than anything else, this is key for me. The times when ideas form and flow for me are when I'm surrounded by or exposed to others' creativity. When you exist in a vaccum it is all too easy to stagnate and be at a loss for fresh and exciting concepts. I am constantly on the lookout for images and designs in magazines and online.

The flip side of this coin, however, is that I often spend more time searching for inspiration than sitting down to create something inspiring myself. I have a terrible streak for perfectionism and it often really hampers my efforts. If I can't do it perfectly on the first try, I am frustrated beyond words. I'm impatient and overly self-critical. Justin is such a blessing in times like these because he always encourages me to keep going (or to start again), and I get so much strength from knowing he's behind me.

My friend Loretta from my time working at the elementary school encouraged me in much the same way. She found me with my sketchbook one day after school had dismissed and looked through my doodles. Not a week passed afterwards that she didn't see me in the hall and ask me, "Drawn anything lately?" with a smile. Just knowing that she cared and was interested meant the world.

Thanks to those who inspire and encourage me. I promise I'll keep plugging along. I'll get there one day.

100 ideas for the new year

I stumbled across this wonderful blog, The Wish Jar and thought I would share a list she'd made:

I'm always looking for ways to renew and encourage personal growth. Sometimes I feel I can really get into a serious rut. Instead of doing this that would address the problem and encourage change, I often do the same old stuff that doesn't work over and over again out of comfort. This list has lots of fun little ideas for encouraging creativity.

I chuckled when I read #17. Sometime, I think it was during our first year here, I actually asked my mother to go to hardware stores and pick up free paint chip samples to mail to me. Just because I LIKE them. I cut them out and played with them and still have my favorites in a ziploc bag stuck in a drawer. I can't wait to have walls I can paint any color I want.

I'm not really into resolutions. I figure if I'm going to make a change, I don't need to wait for the New Year. On the other hand, there is something invigorating and refreshingly "clean slate" about the New Year, and I do feel compelled to be more productive.

Hope you enjoy the list! Let me know if it inspires you to action!