I don't really have anything interesting to write about, but for some reason, I feel like I should...
I made it through the work week. I don't want to get into details. It was actually a very good thing I was doing, but it was mentally exhausting. I was ecstatic Friday afternoon when I finally got home! It's not over though. Pretty much all of August is going to be this way. But when we (my team and I) get through, things will feel so much better.
Parenting.com continues to harass me with cake baking emails. This makes me so angry, but I'm convinced now that I'll make Kaelyn's birthday cake. It's like one of those things that you know, ahead of time, is a really bad idea, but you go ahead and do it anyway. Most people that know me are trying to talk me out of it. Not because they think I'll make a bad cake, but because they know I'll go insane and turn into a crazy she-bat when I decorate it. People that don't know me think that I'll have so much fun, I'll bake cakes all the time...hah!
I woke up around 4:30 this morning...maybe a little later, because I had already turned off the alarm and gone back to sleep. But I thought I heard a noise outside. Actually, I'm sure I did. It sounded like someone was rapping on the glass doors that lead from our bedroom to the backyard. I woke Roger up and told him and he got up and checked and there was nothing there. The cat was by the door...he thought there was another cat outside. Totally possible, I guess. We were both wide awake by then, so Roger got us coffee and we watched TV until Kaelyn woke up. Once she was fed, I went back to sleep and didn't get up until 8:30! To some people that may still be early, but to me it's like eternity.
Right now, I have a small reprieve in my day. Kaelyn is napping and Roger went to Home Depot. Our back splash is done, the house is clean and I truly feel like I can relax! We're not doing much this weekend...we're both just so tired and are craving some quiet time. Tonight after dinner, our plan is take Kaelyn to the sports park across the street and check out the playground. There's no point going any earlier since it's still hot outside and there's a little league tournament happening. We'll wait until it's both cooler and quieter.
I went to my first Weight Watchers meeting during lunch on Tuesday. I'm glad it's only half an hour. I hate getting on the scale, but I've done good so far this week. It's not hard. When I'm tempted to eat something I shouldn't, I just think about having to get on the scale again next week and it's all the motivation I need to resist. Bye bye baby weight!
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Baking Guilt
I often tell people that I can’t bake. This is a lie. I can bake. But, I hate it. Saying that I’m no good at it is much easier than saying that I don’t want to make hand-made rolls for Thanksgiving, bake Christmas cookies, or help with any and all bake sale type fundraisers.
I do a decent enough job at making myself feel guilty for not ever wanting to bake that I just don’t need the added pressure of others helping me along. So I lie.
There are several reasons why I hate baking:
1. Following Directions – you have to follow directions to bake. I don’t like being told what to do. Ever. A cookbook telling me what to do is just as bad as a person. Cooking is different…no directions are needed for cooking. I use cookbooks as guidelines and then often decide I know better than whoever wrote the recipe and do my own thing. This does not work with baking.
2. Measuring – I’m anti-measuring. I have all sort of measuring devices in my kitchen, but I prefer not to use them. I would rather poke myself in the eye with a toothpick than measure things. This might have something to do with my intense dislike for my 8th grade science lab teacher. She was the devil who used measuring as a way to torture kids.
3. Flour – Flour is the enemy! It doesn’t matter what I’m doing, if flour is involved, I will manage to get it everywhere. All over my clothes, the countertops, the floor. I swear, after I use flour, I spend months cleaning it up. It’s like it falls on the floor, rolls into a corner and breeds. This isn’t specific to baking…this happens to me when I’m making pasta, flouring chicken, or thickening a soup…but it’s so much worse with baking. It seems that adding baking powder to flour activates it and makes it jump out of the bowl and into my hair.
Roger often requests that I bake things and because I love him, I do it. (Not always, but enough for me to use it as leverage to get him to make a frozen yogurt run). He says that, with practice, I’ll get better at baking and enjoy it more. Until they make flour that measures itself and stays in the bowl, I don’t really see that happening.
Even though I lie about being bad at baking, there is something that I do tell the truth about. Decorating baked things. I’m truly bad at this. I’m not creative, not artistic and don’t have a steady hand at all when it comes to making little flowers with icing. So, even when I manage to bake something, DO NOT EVER ask me to make it look pretty. This will make me take the toothpick out of my eye and poke you instead.
I don’t plan on baking for school bake sales. I feel like I can bond with Kaelyn just as easily by taking her to a bakery and then out for ice cream, as I can by having her help me make cupcakes. As a matter of fact, going to the bakery will make us bond better, because bakeries don’t make me want to hurt people. Not emotionally scarring my child for life sounds like a much better choice than having us suffer through baking things.
…………..
The other day I got an email newsletter from parenting.com. They thought it would be a good idea to remind me that Kaelyn will be turning one soon. I read the mail when I was already stressed out, choosing to take a short break and read email before getting back to the task at hand.
Big mistake.
Being told my baby is growing up and that much closer to leaving me makes me cry. This newsletter did nothing to make me feel good. It said something like, “There is no more special day than your baby’s first birthday, and we thought we’d give you these 61 easy cake recipes and decorating ideas. No more excuses not to make something totally cute and fun for your little bundle of joy’s big day!” (Those weren’t the exact words, but the gist of the smothering of guilt is accurately represented).
I threw up.
Great. Now the computer is making me feel guilty. The thing is, I already considered Kaelyn’s birthday and I decided that I wasn’t going to bake her a cake. That all of us would be much happier if I just went to the store and ordered one instead. Actually, two. I was going to get the really yummy cheesecake with all the fruit on top for me, Roger, and whoever else happens to be around, and one of those tiny, single serving chocolate cakes for Kaelyn. I imagined putting the little #1 candle on top of it and then just letting her have at it. One cake all to herself. Her first taste of chocolate and sugar. Letting her be as messy as she wanted.
Those dreams have been slashed.
Now, I feel like I have to make her a stupid cake…and make it look pretty. I still want her to have her own cake…which basically means that I have to go buy little tiny baking pans and figure out how to reduce a full size recipe. It means that I might have to make two cakes (one normal size). And please, please, please, for your sake and mine, do not suggest that I make cupcakes instead. I WILL kill you.
There are only 7 weeks until Kaelyn’s first birthday. I have 7 weeks to ready myself for battle. I must bake the cake(s). I must decorate the cake(s). I must not let my intense hate for these activities alter my mood on my baby’s birthday. Her turning one is traumatic enough….now, I have parenting.com trying to make the day even more traumatic (dramatic?). Thank you parenting.com, for showing me what a horrible mother I am and making me a better person. Truly. I will be forever grateful.
I need more toothpicks.
..........................
UPDATE: Last night, I told Roger that I wanted to make Kaelyn's birthday cake. Here's how well my husband knows me:
Him: "Will this make you yell at me?"
Me: "Yes, I think it will"
Bless him!
I do a decent enough job at making myself feel guilty for not ever wanting to bake that I just don’t need the added pressure of others helping me along. So I lie.
There are several reasons why I hate baking:
1. Following Directions – you have to follow directions to bake. I don’t like being told what to do. Ever. A cookbook telling me what to do is just as bad as a person. Cooking is different…no directions are needed for cooking. I use cookbooks as guidelines and then often decide I know better than whoever wrote the recipe and do my own thing. This does not work with baking.
2. Measuring – I’m anti-measuring. I have all sort of measuring devices in my kitchen, but I prefer not to use them. I would rather poke myself in the eye with a toothpick than measure things. This might have something to do with my intense dislike for my 8th grade science lab teacher. She was the devil who used measuring as a way to torture kids.
3. Flour – Flour is the enemy! It doesn’t matter what I’m doing, if flour is involved, I will manage to get it everywhere. All over my clothes, the countertops, the floor. I swear, after I use flour, I spend months cleaning it up. It’s like it falls on the floor, rolls into a corner and breeds. This isn’t specific to baking…this happens to me when I’m making pasta, flouring chicken, or thickening a soup…but it’s so much worse with baking. It seems that adding baking powder to flour activates it and makes it jump out of the bowl and into my hair.
Roger often requests that I bake things and because I love him, I do it. (Not always, but enough for me to use it as leverage to get him to make a frozen yogurt run). He says that, with practice, I’ll get better at baking and enjoy it more. Until they make flour that measures itself and stays in the bowl, I don’t really see that happening.
Even though I lie about being bad at baking, there is something that I do tell the truth about. Decorating baked things. I’m truly bad at this. I’m not creative, not artistic and don’t have a steady hand at all when it comes to making little flowers with icing. So, even when I manage to bake something, DO NOT EVER ask me to make it look pretty. This will make me take the toothpick out of my eye and poke you instead.
I don’t plan on baking for school bake sales. I feel like I can bond with Kaelyn just as easily by taking her to a bakery and then out for ice cream, as I can by having her help me make cupcakes. As a matter of fact, going to the bakery will make us bond better, because bakeries don’t make me want to hurt people. Not emotionally scarring my child for life sounds like a much better choice than having us suffer through baking things.
…………..
The other day I got an email newsletter from parenting.com. They thought it would be a good idea to remind me that Kaelyn will be turning one soon. I read the mail when I was already stressed out, choosing to take a short break and read email before getting back to the task at hand.
Big mistake.
Being told my baby is growing up and that much closer to leaving me makes me cry. This newsletter did nothing to make me feel good. It said something like, “There is no more special day than your baby’s first birthday, and we thought we’d give you these 61 easy cake recipes and decorating ideas. No more excuses not to make something totally cute and fun for your little bundle of joy’s big day!” (Those weren’t the exact words, but the gist of the smothering of guilt is accurately represented).
I threw up.
Great. Now the computer is making me feel guilty. The thing is, I already considered Kaelyn’s birthday and I decided that I wasn’t going to bake her a cake. That all of us would be much happier if I just went to the store and ordered one instead. Actually, two. I was going to get the really yummy cheesecake with all the fruit on top for me, Roger, and whoever else happens to be around, and one of those tiny, single serving chocolate cakes for Kaelyn. I imagined putting the little #1 candle on top of it and then just letting her have at it. One cake all to herself. Her first taste of chocolate and sugar. Letting her be as messy as she wanted.
Those dreams have been slashed.
Now, I feel like I have to make her a stupid cake…and make it look pretty. I still want her to have her own cake…which basically means that I have to go buy little tiny baking pans and figure out how to reduce a full size recipe. It means that I might have to make two cakes (one normal size). And please, please, please, for your sake and mine, do not suggest that I make cupcakes instead. I WILL kill you.
There are only 7 weeks until Kaelyn’s first birthday. I have 7 weeks to ready myself for battle. I must bake the cake(s). I must decorate the cake(s). I must not let my intense hate for these activities alter my mood on my baby’s birthday. Her turning one is traumatic enough….now, I have parenting.com trying to make the day even more traumatic (dramatic?). Thank you parenting.com, for showing me what a horrible mother I am and making me a better person. Truly. I will be forever grateful.
I need more toothpicks.
..........................
UPDATE: Last night, I told Roger that I wanted to make Kaelyn's birthday cake. Here's how well my husband knows me:
Him: "Will this make you yell at me?"
Me: "Yes, I think it will"
Bless him!
A Backsplash and a Milestone
We got home late Saturday night…close to midnight. The fair was a blast…the five and half hours we spent there went by in a flash. Kaelyn was so excited to see the bright flashing lights and get all the attention from random vendors and patrons, that getting her to sleep was nearly impossible. Because she missed two naps (didn’t sleep for more than 15 minutes after the West Point party), I was certain that she would fall asleep on the way home and be completely out of it by the time we arrived.
Wrong.
She was still wide awake. So much so, that I accused Roger of sneaking her some funnel cake and sugar. He denied it. (I don’t believe him). Luckily, she didn’t put up a fuss when we finally got her in bed and I passed out about 30 seconds later (and wouldn’t have heard her if she did).
I didn’t expect to do much of anything on Sunday. Kaelyn gave us an extra, extremely blissful, hour of sleep in the morning and as I was feeding her, I thought…”I’ll do nothing, today. That sounds so good.” So, imagine my surprise, when during breakfast, I turn to Roger and say “After you get back from collecting rent, we should go to Lowe’s and get tile for a backsplash.”
I don’t know what made me say that. I’ve said similar things for years. When we expanded our kitchen I said, “We might as well install a backsplash while we’re working in here.” When we tiled the fireplace in the backyard, “Since you’re tiling, we should just go into the kitchen and put up a backsplash.” As he’s been working on a kitchen remodel at work, “If you need more practice with tiling, you can put up a backsplash in our kitchen first” Any of the million times we’re walking through Home Depot or Lowes, “Hey, let’s go look at the tile…we need a backsplash.”
So maybe Roger just got tired of me asking, maybe he was bored, or maybe he just finally got the hint , but he surprised the heck out of me when he just kind of shrugged his shoulders and said “Sure, why not? But you have to make me orange chicken just like at PF Chang’s for dinner.” Deal! How come I never thought of bribing him with orange chicken before?
Fast forward a little bit, the backsplash is looking great! The chicken was delicious and we should have a completed backsplash, grout and all, by Tuesday night!
……………………………….
While Roger was out collecting rent, I decided to clean out Kaelyn’s closet to make room for her shelves. I wanted to bring the table and chairs inside…the set is way too beautiful to be sitting in our garage and the shelves were just in the way. I had Kaelyn playing in her crib while I was working, but she was so interested in what I was doing, that she didn’t play at all…just watched me intently. I would look over at her every so often to make sure she was ok and noticed several times that she was straining to see over the top railing. Moments later, she had pulled herself up to standing position! She’s been standing for a while now, but this was the first time I noticed her pull herself up. And of course, once again, I didn’t have the camera to record it. I suck at foretelling the future…even though I did manage to get nightmarish glimpses of her trying to climb over the railing and falling on out of her crib. Roger lowered the mattress to make that less possible and I felt a little better.
Funny how the joys of watching your baby learn something new is quickly replaced with the paralyzing fear that this skill will somehow manage to kill her.
Roger thinks I’m crazy.
He’s probably right.
Wrong.
She was still wide awake. So much so, that I accused Roger of sneaking her some funnel cake and sugar. He denied it. (I don’t believe him). Luckily, she didn’t put up a fuss when we finally got her in bed and I passed out about 30 seconds later (and wouldn’t have heard her if she did).
I didn’t expect to do much of anything on Sunday. Kaelyn gave us an extra, extremely blissful, hour of sleep in the morning and as I was feeding her, I thought…”I’ll do nothing, today. That sounds so good.” So, imagine my surprise, when during breakfast, I turn to Roger and say “After you get back from collecting rent, we should go to Lowe’s and get tile for a backsplash.”
I don’t know what made me say that. I’ve said similar things for years. When we expanded our kitchen I said, “We might as well install a backsplash while we’re working in here.” When we tiled the fireplace in the backyard, “Since you’re tiling, we should just go into the kitchen and put up a backsplash.” As he’s been working on a kitchen remodel at work, “If you need more practice with tiling, you can put up a backsplash in our kitchen first” Any of the million times we’re walking through Home Depot or Lowes, “Hey, let’s go look at the tile…we need a backsplash.”
So maybe Roger just got tired of me asking, maybe he was bored, or maybe he just finally got the hint , but he surprised the heck out of me when he just kind of shrugged his shoulders and said “Sure, why not? But you have to make me orange chicken just like at PF Chang’s for dinner.” Deal! How come I never thought of bribing him with orange chicken before?
Fast forward a little bit, the backsplash is looking great! The chicken was delicious and we should have a completed backsplash, grout and all, by Tuesday night!
……………………………….
While Roger was out collecting rent, I decided to clean out Kaelyn’s closet to make room for her shelves. I wanted to bring the table and chairs inside…the set is way too beautiful to be sitting in our garage and the shelves were just in the way. I had Kaelyn playing in her crib while I was working, but she was so interested in what I was doing, that she didn’t play at all…just watched me intently. I would look over at her every so often to make sure she was ok and noticed several times that she was straining to see over the top railing. Moments later, she had pulled herself up to standing position! She’s been standing for a while now, but this was the first time I noticed her pull herself up. And of course, once again, I didn’t have the camera to record it. I suck at foretelling the future…even though I did manage to get nightmarish glimpses of her trying to climb over the railing and falling on out of her crib. Roger lowered the mattress to make that less possible and I felt a little better.
Funny how the joys of watching your baby learn something new is quickly replaced with the paralyzing fear that this skill will somehow manage to kill her.
Roger thinks I’m crazy.
He’s probably right.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
A whole lot of nothing
I was really hoping Kaelyn would sleep in this morning (no such luck). I have been so tired this week! Of course, I can't complain too much. I have a good job, a nice house, a family. So much more than other people have...especially in this economy.
I have a friend who is going through somewhat of a tough time right now. Her attitude is great, but there's a lot of change on the horizon and it makes her sad. There's the uncertainty of the future. I know what that feels like and when I hear her talk about it, my heart aches for her...yet, at the same time, I'm so grateful that Roger and I have the security we need. I don't think a lot of people realize how nice security is...at least not until it's gone.
Our friend, Lance, gave us a beautiful children's table and chair set. It belonged to his mother and I'm honored that he's passing it down to us. Kaelyn isn't really old enough to use it yet, but I like it so much, I want to put in her room now. Unfortunately, her room is not huge and it's already full. This means that I have to clean out her closet, so that I can move her toy shelves in there and make room for the table. I've wanted to store most of her toys in the closet for months now anyway. I'll probably work on this sometime this weekend.
We are going to the West Point party thing today. I'm still not really looking forward to it, but Roger is. He says it sounds like fun. I don't know why he thinks hanging out with a bunch of old West Pointers that we don't know sounds like fun, but I'm giving it a go. Steve will be there and he's a great guy. I think that Roger just wants to hang out with Steve...but if that's the case, I would tell him to just invite him over for dinner one night and they can hang out in the back yard and smoke cigars.
After the party, our plan is to meet friends at the State Fair. I'm really looking forward to this. I love the State Fair! I don't know why, but I do. I especially like seeing the farm animals. Every year, I can either witness a birth (I can't always stomach this), or at least marvel at the first few moments of a newborn's life...which is awesome. Especially the calves who try to stand for the first time. It's exhilerating when they finally make it!
I've noticed a pattern with me and Roger. We go for a two to three weeks where we cram as much as we possibly can into a weekend...or in some cases, into a Saturday. Exhaust ourselves and then spend one weekend where we don't even have the energy to get dressed. This is the second weekend in a row where we are planning to do two events in one day and also want to spend a day cooking healthy meals for the week. It will be very very tiring.
I have a hard week coming up at work. I'm more looking forward to it only for the fact that I'll get through it. The hard week has nothing to do with hard work...or where I work. Just something difficult (on my patience) that I have to deal with in regards to my project. I have a feeling that next Friday night will include a lot of wine!
I've also decided to join Weight Watchers at work. It's a good deal and the time commitment for meetings is minimal. Half an hour once a week. My first meeting is during lunch on Tuesday. I'm looking forward to this because I know it works. The baby weight had been coming off, but it's stalled. It's because I'm not really trying to hard. I have a week or two of doing well, then stop. Weight Watchers will give me the motivation tools I need every week...so it will be difficult to slack off without being thoroughly embarrassed. This is what I need.
Roger is awake now. I think I'll make him breakfast!
I have a friend who is going through somewhat of a tough time right now. Her attitude is great, but there's a lot of change on the horizon and it makes her sad. There's the uncertainty of the future. I know what that feels like and when I hear her talk about it, my heart aches for her...yet, at the same time, I'm so grateful that Roger and I have the security we need. I don't think a lot of people realize how nice security is...at least not until it's gone.
Our friend, Lance, gave us a beautiful children's table and chair set. It belonged to his mother and I'm honored that he's passing it down to us. Kaelyn isn't really old enough to use it yet, but I like it so much, I want to put in her room now. Unfortunately, her room is not huge and it's already full. This means that I have to clean out her closet, so that I can move her toy shelves in there and make room for the table. I've wanted to store most of her toys in the closet for months now anyway. I'll probably work on this sometime this weekend.
We are going to the West Point party thing today. I'm still not really looking forward to it, but Roger is. He says it sounds like fun. I don't know why he thinks hanging out with a bunch of old West Pointers that we don't know sounds like fun, but I'm giving it a go. Steve will be there and he's a great guy. I think that Roger just wants to hang out with Steve...but if that's the case, I would tell him to just invite him over for dinner one night and they can hang out in the back yard and smoke cigars.
After the party, our plan is to meet friends at the State Fair. I'm really looking forward to this. I love the State Fair! I don't know why, but I do. I especially like seeing the farm animals. Every year, I can either witness a birth (I can't always stomach this), or at least marvel at the first few moments of a newborn's life...which is awesome. Especially the calves who try to stand for the first time. It's exhilerating when they finally make it!
I've noticed a pattern with me and Roger. We go for a two to three weeks where we cram as much as we possibly can into a weekend...or in some cases, into a Saturday. Exhaust ourselves and then spend one weekend where we don't even have the energy to get dressed. This is the second weekend in a row where we are planning to do two events in one day and also want to spend a day cooking healthy meals for the week. It will be very very tiring.
I have a hard week coming up at work. I'm more looking forward to it only for the fact that I'll get through it. The hard week has nothing to do with hard work...or where I work. Just something difficult (on my patience) that I have to deal with in regards to my project. I have a feeling that next Friday night will include a lot of wine!
I've also decided to join Weight Watchers at work. It's a good deal and the time commitment for meetings is minimal. Half an hour once a week. My first meeting is during lunch on Tuesday. I'm looking forward to this because I know it works. The baby weight had been coming off, but it's stalled. It's because I'm not really trying to hard. I have a week or two of doing well, then stop. Weight Watchers will give me the motivation tools I need every week...so it will be difficult to slack off without being thoroughly embarrassed. This is what I need.
Roger is awake now. I think I'll make him breakfast!
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Between La La and Ya Ya
I am somewhere between La La and Ya Ya…..
Today I went to a change of command ceremony at work. It was held in the Sacramento Memorial Auditorium, which I have to say is a gorgeous building (built in 1927)! It’s the first one I’ve been to out of uniform. I found myself trying to remember the last one I attended. It had to have been in Japan and it was either my squadron commander’s or the wing commander’s ceremony. Thinking about it, I’m pretty sure it was the Wing Command. But, I can’t remember it. At all. This is probably because I was on my way out and didn’t care that much.
The whole thing was kind of surreal for me. It’s hard to describe exactly how or why. I did feel like I was balancing between two worlds. No, actually it was more like three. All my experiences with COC ceremonies are as a uniformed Air Force Officer. Going to one as a civilian, felt more like I was an intruder in a world I am no longer a part of. It’s a military ceremony and it seemed odd that I was one of a thousand civilian onlookers, instead of up front in uniform, standing at attention. The other odd feeling was that there was a lot of talk about West Point in the speeches…both outgoing and incoming. I went to West Point…I even lived in Bradley Barracks, which is the castle that is the symbol of the Corps of Engineers. But, I never served in the uniformed Army. Instead, I was commissioned in the Air Force. And even though I’m not the only former cadet that served in another branch of the military, and I’m currently employed by the Army, I still feel like an imposter. Like I don’t belong. I don’t feel like a true civilian, because too much of my soul is still in the military, yet I’m no longer serving my country as an active duty officer. I don’t feel like a West Point alum…because, well, I’m not really. I know the words to the Army song, know the history of West Point, and understand the traditions of this branch of the military, but I don’t belong…yet, I don’t not belong. I’m included as a veteran of the armed services. I’m given credit for getting into and attending one of the toughest schools (if not the toughest) in the world, yet I don’t feel like I should get credit for it.
I guess I’m split between military and civilian. Army and Air Force. West Point and Purdue. Completion of my duty and guilt for not continuing anyway. A part of all of them, yet not fully belonging to any one.
Roger has a friend, Steve, who is also a graduate of West Point…though he went well before I did. He is a member of the local West Point alumni club here in Sacramento. He has mentioned it to me several times and invited me to different events they have (about two a year). I’ve shied away from all of it, mostly for the reasons I’ve described above. This weekend, they are having a pool/house party and Roger wants to go. Steve emailed me the information. He told me I should sign up for their newsletter. I don’t want to go. But Roger does. This is my struggle. Do I explain my feelings to him and risk him telling me it doesn’t matter, or do I just be quiet and go because my husband wants to and I love him? I’ll probably just go. But I’m not that happy about it.
In other news, for the last two days Kaelyn has been saying something that sounds like a combination of “la la la” and “ya ya ya”. I always thought that “L” sounds were hard for babies and toddlers, which is why it surprises me that this sounds so much like an “L”. I’ve been trying to teach her how to say “Yia Yia”, which is the Greek word for Grandma…and this might just be her finally repeating what I’ve been chanting to her. Yet it’s definitely got an “L” quality to it. Anyway, these sounds are a lot like how I feel. Somewhere between “la la” and “ya ya”. A little bit of both, not entirely one.
Today I went to a change of command ceremony at work. It was held in the Sacramento Memorial Auditorium, which I have to say is a gorgeous building (built in 1927)! It’s the first one I’ve been to out of uniform. I found myself trying to remember the last one I attended. It had to have been in Japan and it was either my squadron commander’s or the wing commander’s ceremony. Thinking about it, I’m pretty sure it was the Wing Command. But, I can’t remember it. At all. This is probably because I was on my way out and didn’t care that much.
The whole thing was kind of surreal for me. It’s hard to describe exactly how or why. I did feel like I was balancing between two worlds. No, actually it was more like three. All my experiences with COC ceremonies are as a uniformed Air Force Officer. Going to one as a civilian, felt more like I was an intruder in a world I am no longer a part of. It’s a military ceremony and it seemed odd that I was one of a thousand civilian onlookers, instead of up front in uniform, standing at attention. The other odd feeling was that there was a lot of talk about West Point in the speeches…both outgoing and incoming. I went to West Point…I even lived in Bradley Barracks, which is the castle that is the symbol of the Corps of Engineers. But, I never served in the uniformed Army. Instead, I was commissioned in the Air Force. And even though I’m not the only former cadet that served in another branch of the military, and I’m currently employed by the Army, I still feel like an imposter. Like I don’t belong. I don’t feel like a true civilian, because too much of my soul is still in the military, yet I’m no longer serving my country as an active duty officer. I don’t feel like a West Point alum…because, well, I’m not really. I know the words to the Army song, know the history of West Point, and understand the traditions of this branch of the military, but I don’t belong…yet, I don’t not belong. I’m included as a veteran of the armed services. I’m given credit for getting into and attending one of the toughest schools (if not the toughest) in the world, yet I don’t feel like I should get credit for it.
I guess I’m split between military and civilian. Army and Air Force. West Point and Purdue. Completion of my duty and guilt for not continuing anyway. A part of all of them, yet not fully belonging to any one.
Roger has a friend, Steve, who is also a graduate of West Point…though he went well before I did. He is a member of the local West Point alumni club here in Sacramento. He has mentioned it to me several times and invited me to different events they have (about two a year). I’ve shied away from all of it, mostly for the reasons I’ve described above. This weekend, they are having a pool/house party and Roger wants to go. Steve emailed me the information. He told me I should sign up for their newsletter. I don’t want to go. But Roger does. This is my struggle. Do I explain my feelings to him and risk him telling me it doesn’t matter, or do I just be quiet and go because my husband wants to and I love him? I’ll probably just go. But I’m not that happy about it.
In other news, for the last two days Kaelyn has been saying something that sounds like a combination of “la la la” and “ya ya ya”. I always thought that “L” sounds were hard for babies and toddlers, which is why it surprises me that this sounds so much like an “L”. I’ve been trying to teach her how to say “Yia Yia”, which is the Greek word for Grandma…and this might just be her finally repeating what I’ve been chanting to her. Yet it’s definitely got an “L” quality to it. Anyway, these sounds are a lot like how I feel. Somewhere between “la la” and “ya ya”. A little bit of both, not entirely one.
Monday, July 26, 2010
The Story of Us
I don’t remember how I met Roger exactly. I don’t even really remember the exact date (in July) that he proposed to me out at Loon Lake (I have to look at date stamps on the pictures). I do remember, though, very clearly, the first time I ever heard his name.
I had only been living in Sacramento for maybe 9 months. A few months earlier, I ended a long term relationship. Even though I knew deep in my heart it was the right thing to do, I was still confused and broken hearted. At the time, I was looking for a healthy way to re-group. Actually, to be totally honest, I had just ended the rebound relationship, but I wasn’t the least bit upset about that and really just looked at it as a minor delay in my quest to get on with my new life.
I didn’t know anyone here, but I was lucky to meet a great group of people where I easily fit in and found friends. The same people, today, more than five years later, are still my best friends. I had been invited to have a sushi dinner with a group of three women. I never turn down sushi! I only knew two of them and the third, J, was meeting for the first time that night. I remember that it was July and it was a Friday night. I remember the sushi restaurant and everything we ordered. I even remember the black tank top I wore and that just a few minutes before I canceled my date with the rebound guy so I could go to this dinner. (I broke up with him permanently the next day).
We were talking about men. J once dated Roger. Actually “dated” is a loose term, considering that after an hour of listening to her talk/complain about him, I found out that they had only gone out on a few dates spanning 6 weeks and been “broken up” for just over three months. But J still had it in for him. Bad. She was saying how she couldn’t be in the same physical location as him and for that reason was not going to this Luau pool party that was the following weekend. I told her that was pretty dumb as she wasn’t hurting him, just herself, by avoiding him. He gets to have all the fun and she isolates herself from her friends….for what? I don’t think she expected someone she just met to say that to her, and she told me that I didn’t understand. Well, she was definitely right about that.
At one point, I clearly remember J saying the following to me: “You’ll meet him at the Luau. You’ll like him. Everyone likes Roger.”
I have to assume that I did meet him at the Luau…although Roger says we met at a bbq at our friend Lance’s house. I’m having a hard time with that, because I don’t think I ever went to Lance’s house until years later, I’m sure we met before then and this Luau seems to be the logical place. I sort of remember seeing him for the first time and thinking that while I understood why people liked being around him, I just didn’t get J’s obsession. But if that thought was at a Luau or a bbq or somewhere else, I just don’t know.
I have little snippets of memories of Roger in the first couple of years that I knew him. I remember that I wanted to buy a poker set and table top for my friend, Debbie’s, 30th birthday. I was looking for people that wanted to chip in to get it for her. Roger emailed me and we met up a few days later for him to give me some money to buy it.
Another time, he had organized a jazz/pool party, but by the time I decided to go, it was only an hour before the event started and it was too late to pay. I sent him an email asking if I could come anyway. It was a shot in the dark, but he called me a few minutes later and told me he had me on the list as his personal guest. I went, but don’t remember if I talked to him too much there.
There’s another time that I had met a group of people in a pub downtown. I was getting my Master’s Degree and had a paper to write, so I couldn’t stay long. I had just decided to get up and leave when Roger showed up. He had ridden his motorcycle and waltzed in with his leather jacket and helmet. I thought it was funny for some reason. As I was leaving, he asked me to stay a while. But I couldn’t. It never occurred to me that he might have liked me then.
A few weeks later, Vickie and I met different friends at a different pub downtown. It was crazy boring, but neither of us wanted to give up a night out at a bar, so we called Roger. It took him forever to actually show up. So long, we decided not to wait for him and left. He called me and begged me to come back, but I didn’t.
I already wrote the story about us white water rafting, where Roger had to save me and Vickie from the river. I never saw him the same after that weekend. I don’t know what it was exactly. Probably the idea of a man climbing a (sort of) mountain and crossing a raging river for me. And Vickie. I have to be fair.
Things changed after that. I had already been helping him decorate his new house, so we had been spending more time together, but that rafting trip changed our friendship forever. Things got weird for us. He’d call me when he was passing by my house and take me to breakfast or dinner. He would invite me just about everywhere. There came to be a point in time where I tried to avoid him a little. By then, I knew he liked me, but I was afraid to like him back. So, I stayed away.
That didn’t last long. I had to work one night, demolishing a bridge, and I was working all day too. Roger’s house was near my office and he was supposed to be out of town on a business trip. I asked him if I could go there after work and take a nap before I started the night shift. He said I could. It turned out that he wasn’t leaving until that night and when I showed up, he was still there. We had dinner and talked for a couple of hours and then I drove him to the airport. When we got there, he kissed me. Then left. Just like that. I didn’t get a nap, had to work all night and then had to wait an entire week to find out what the heck that kiss was about.
I picked him up again the following Friday and it was awkward to say the least. Eventually, the tension broke and he kissed me again. Then he asked me out and I agreed. It’s like we broke past a wall or broke whatever leash had been holding us back. The rest is history.
We had a whirlwind romance. He took me to Vegas (twice), Temecula, and skydiving. We went to Napa, Bodega Bay, and countless other places. He showered me with attention and love. He left for a two week trip to Yellowstone and Jackson Hole with his friend, Darryl. I missed him like crazy. The day he got back he told me he wanted to get married. Two weeks later, he proposed at Loon Lake, on that fuzzy day in July. We didn’t have a long engagement. Just four months. We went to Whistler, Canada on our honeymoon, and two months after that, I was pregnant with Kaelyn.
I think we surprised a lot of people with our union. Even ourselves. We are polar opposites in almost every way imaginable. But, we balance each other out. He brings out the best in me and I hope that I bring out the best in him. I have so much respect, faith and love for him, I often feel like I’ll explode with the intensity of my feelings. We have created a harmonious home, a happy baby, and united family. We’ve found things that we enjoy doing together and created little idiosyncrasies that only we understand. Sometimes, Roger says that we wasted a lot of time in the beginning. We could have started this two or three years before we did…but, timing is everything and I don’t think the timing was right back then. Sometimes, I play the “what if” game. What if I never moved here? What if I didn’t have to demolish that bridge? What if Vickie and I never sunk our boat at that rapid? Roger says it doesn’t matter, because somehow it would have turned out anyway. We’d be together. Kaelyn would be born. We’d be us.
I like that. I like our story. I love us.
I had only been living in Sacramento for maybe 9 months. A few months earlier, I ended a long term relationship. Even though I knew deep in my heart it was the right thing to do, I was still confused and broken hearted. At the time, I was looking for a healthy way to re-group. Actually, to be totally honest, I had just ended the rebound relationship, but I wasn’t the least bit upset about that and really just looked at it as a minor delay in my quest to get on with my new life.
I didn’t know anyone here, but I was lucky to meet a great group of people where I easily fit in and found friends. The same people, today, more than five years later, are still my best friends. I had been invited to have a sushi dinner with a group of three women. I never turn down sushi! I only knew two of them and the third, J, was meeting for the first time that night. I remember that it was July and it was a Friday night. I remember the sushi restaurant and everything we ordered. I even remember the black tank top I wore and that just a few minutes before I canceled my date with the rebound guy so I could go to this dinner. (I broke up with him permanently the next day).
We were talking about men. J once dated Roger. Actually “dated” is a loose term, considering that after an hour of listening to her talk/complain about him, I found out that they had only gone out on a few dates spanning 6 weeks and been “broken up” for just over three months. But J still had it in for him. Bad. She was saying how she couldn’t be in the same physical location as him and for that reason was not going to this Luau pool party that was the following weekend. I told her that was pretty dumb as she wasn’t hurting him, just herself, by avoiding him. He gets to have all the fun and she isolates herself from her friends….for what? I don’t think she expected someone she just met to say that to her, and she told me that I didn’t understand. Well, she was definitely right about that.
At one point, I clearly remember J saying the following to me: “You’ll meet him at the Luau. You’ll like him. Everyone likes Roger.”
I have to assume that I did meet him at the Luau…although Roger says we met at a bbq at our friend Lance’s house. I’m having a hard time with that, because I don’t think I ever went to Lance’s house until years later, I’m sure we met before then and this Luau seems to be the logical place. I sort of remember seeing him for the first time and thinking that while I understood why people liked being around him, I just didn’t get J’s obsession. But if that thought was at a Luau or a bbq or somewhere else, I just don’t know.
I have little snippets of memories of Roger in the first couple of years that I knew him. I remember that I wanted to buy a poker set and table top for my friend, Debbie’s, 30th birthday. I was looking for people that wanted to chip in to get it for her. Roger emailed me and we met up a few days later for him to give me some money to buy it.
Another time, he had organized a jazz/pool party, but by the time I decided to go, it was only an hour before the event started and it was too late to pay. I sent him an email asking if I could come anyway. It was a shot in the dark, but he called me a few minutes later and told me he had me on the list as his personal guest. I went, but don’t remember if I talked to him too much there.
There’s another time that I had met a group of people in a pub downtown. I was getting my Master’s Degree and had a paper to write, so I couldn’t stay long. I had just decided to get up and leave when Roger showed up. He had ridden his motorcycle and waltzed in with his leather jacket and helmet. I thought it was funny for some reason. As I was leaving, he asked me to stay a while. But I couldn’t. It never occurred to me that he might have liked me then.
A few weeks later, Vickie and I met different friends at a different pub downtown. It was crazy boring, but neither of us wanted to give up a night out at a bar, so we called Roger. It took him forever to actually show up. So long, we decided not to wait for him and left. He called me and begged me to come back, but I didn’t.
I already wrote the story about us white water rafting, where Roger had to save me and Vickie from the river. I never saw him the same after that weekend. I don’t know what it was exactly. Probably the idea of a man climbing a (sort of) mountain and crossing a raging river for me. And Vickie. I have to be fair.
Things changed after that. I had already been helping him decorate his new house, so we had been spending more time together, but that rafting trip changed our friendship forever. Things got weird for us. He’d call me when he was passing by my house and take me to breakfast or dinner. He would invite me just about everywhere. There came to be a point in time where I tried to avoid him a little. By then, I knew he liked me, but I was afraid to like him back. So, I stayed away.
That didn’t last long. I had to work one night, demolishing a bridge, and I was working all day too. Roger’s house was near my office and he was supposed to be out of town on a business trip. I asked him if I could go there after work and take a nap before I started the night shift. He said I could. It turned out that he wasn’t leaving until that night and when I showed up, he was still there. We had dinner and talked for a couple of hours and then I drove him to the airport. When we got there, he kissed me. Then left. Just like that. I didn’t get a nap, had to work all night and then had to wait an entire week to find out what the heck that kiss was about.
I picked him up again the following Friday and it was awkward to say the least. Eventually, the tension broke and he kissed me again. Then he asked me out and I agreed. It’s like we broke past a wall or broke whatever leash had been holding us back. The rest is history.
We had a whirlwind romance. He took me to Vegas (twice), Temecula, and skydiving. We went to Napa, Bodega Bay, and countless other places. He showered me with attention and love. He left for a two week trip to Yellowstone and Jackson Hole with his friend, Darryl. I missed him like crazy. The day he got back he told me he wanted to get married. Two weeks later, he proposed at Loon Lake, on that fuzzy day in July. We didn’t have a long engagement. Just four months. We went to Whistler, Canada on our honeymoon, and two months after that, I was pregnant with Kaelyn.
I think we surprised a lot of people with our union. Even ourselves. We are polar opposites in almost every way imaginable. But, we balance each other out. He brings out the best in me and I hope that I bring out the best in him. I have so much respect, faith and love for him, I often feel like I’ll explode with the intensity of my feelings. We have created a harmonious home, a happy baby, and united family. We’ve found things that we enjoy doing together and created little idiosyncrasies that only we understand. Sometimes, Roger says that we wasted a lot of time in the beginning. We could have started this two or three years before we did…but, timing is everything and I don’t think the timing was right back then. Sometimes, I play the “what if” game. What if I never moved here? What if I didn’t have to demolish that bridge? What if Vickie and I never sunk our boat at that rapid? Roger says it doesn’t matter, because somehow it would have turned out anyway. We’d be together. Kaelyn would be born. We’d be us.
I like that. I like our story. I love us.
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