Fly Away

It all begins the moment you exit your car in pursuit of luggage, backpacks, kids, and carseat. That feeling of constant agitation, exhaustion, and hunger (don't ask me about this one...I just know that I'm constantly hungry whenever I get around an airport) lingers like a purple cloud over all members in the group. In a heartbeat, the commentary of woes begins:

"I can't carry this...it's tooooo heaaavvvvy" HS groans as he feigns an attempt to heave his backpack over his shoulders. "Well, darlin' you packed your bag...I warned you." I smile sweetly as I assist him with his endeavor.

"Do we have everything, hon?" HH asks as he shuts the side of the cat bus. "Ummmm...luggage, kids, carseat....wait! I need the carseat, darlin'!" I respond as I attempt to maneuver LD's jump seat stroller (the most bare bones of the ones we own) and luggage while coralling HS in the direction of the elevators.

"Hold the door!!! We're still trying to get on HS!!!" HH shouts as HS has a dazed look on his face as if to say really, I'm traveling with my family?

Although part of the United States, departing for the mainland is akin to taking a holiday to Fiji. The line winds like a snake around pillars, along perfectly laid out ribbons of tape that are more like what you'd expect to walk if you were getting a sobriety test. Luggage is everywhere. Bathing suits are under just about every third person's tank, and slippahs reign supreme as the footwear of choice. The comotion is intense as we are lead through the agricultural check point, the luggage weight check, and then...more lines await the groans of a seven year old who packed obviously too much in one pack.

Note to self. Never ever, ever, never ever allow a seat assigment predicated on "their are seats that only the counter can dissemanate the day of your depature." That is based on the reality that there are such said seats available, but those come at a teeny, tiny, fee....$70 a seat tiny...added to an already hefty ticket price and the answer would be...what are you smokin' you're not even going to feed us on this flight! I'm not paying any more money. Find a way to seat us or else the 18 month old is sitting in the given seat...by herself....I think that very idea could cause most of the heavy sighs, mumblings, and prayers of those not traveling with kids to tremble in their shoes that they would be the unlucky candidate for sitting with a drooling, crying, mess of a little person. They did finally get our seats worked out....we were relegated to the 40th row but at least we were all together. HH was able to walk us to the gate which was a definite plus. I needed the extra set of hands, conversation, and brainpower. His absense on the plane would be felt the moment I boarded with two already cranky kiddos.

Six hours is doable even when benadryl fails. Even when your seatmate is an 18 month old pulling at her blankie, rubbing her eyes, and looking at you as if you are an alien. The other seatmate of mine has obviously grown a little lankier than the last time we traveled. I think I felt the sorriest for HS. When he was trying to sleep, he would be akin to the students I taught who would try to sleep sitting up at their desk...eyes would be closed, head would be swaying from side to side, and finally, for HS he would lay his forehead or cheek to rest and snore peacefully as he dreamt of "enjoying a fun movie instead of the boring movie they tried to show me on this flight." (direct quote from HS). Please note: students in my class would never have made it to lala land with their heads on the desk.

We have flown away from paradise for a brief time. That much is true. I'm glad that at the end of every flight we've had people eager to see us awaiting us with open arms. This time...my sister with tears in her eyes. That made each and every moment on that aircraft worth it.

Piles

Strewn throughout our bedroom this week has been piles, lists, and constant movement of laundry. As we approach midweek, I will freely admit that I detest piles. I don't do well with clutter and I certainly don't do well with trying to figure out what I should pack for a three week vacation. However, when it comes to traveling back to my old stoppin' grounds of my childhood, the piles don't bother me as much. I think though that I've finally succeeded in packing...as you can see, my piles are now carefully stacked according to type, person, and color. I'm ready. I've got my piles in a row...now the great suitcase pack!!!

Here's "kickin'" at you!

I believe in keeping busy. Yep. Most of you know that by now. Itching for something to do always strikes me moments after I've sat down on the couch...I may have the TV on, but I'm also reading, plotting what clothing I'd love to have if I won the lottery, dreaming of our future house, and oh, what to do to keep HS and LD busy, entertained, and happy during a summer break.

LD is easy. Take her for walks, the beach, and voila! Her bed will be begging her to join her sacred blankie for a snooze. HS is not as easy. With a brain the size of Texas and enough energy to keep the Sox running around bases, I have to make sure that he not only excersises his brain by doing daily learning activities, but ensuring that he gets a lot of outside time to imagine, create, run, jump, and well...excert the energy so that he's not whinning in front of me for the next four and a half weeks before he starts 2nd grade.



So....last week found us enjoying a great week of VBS at the chapel on Pearl Harbor. The weekend found him shooting BB guns, demonstrating his strokes in the pool, punching out constellations at the Astronomy station with HH, and shooting arrows as he participated in all the activities that Cub Scout day camp had to offer. By Saturday evening, HH and I could tell that he was spent. He was akin to a zombie and snored loudly until 8 am on Father's Day.

Monday morning found him decked out in soccer gear for the 1st time ever. His cleates were a little big and made a funny tap, tap sound as his scooted around showcasing his socks, shirt, and soccer short for LD and me. Soccer camp has been a dream for him for many years now. With karate taking up two evenings a week, homework swallowing up afternoons, and parental desire to keep weekends sacred family time, soccer hasn't really been at the forefront. So, I caved. HH was a little agitated by his performance day 1 of the camp, but by day 4 I expect him to wander through the door with tales of how many goals, kicks, taps, and hops he did. He's addicted. Yep. A-d-d-i-c-t-e-d. Although, from the looks of the pictures I've taken, I can't quite tell if he enjoys the sport or posing with the gear. Regardless, he's working those muscles and having a blast with his friends as he completes his 1st experience of a sport camp.



Next on the agenda....a very, very, very long flight followed by some roaring good times at the farm in Nebraska and exploring the land of my childhood with my kiddos, parents, sister, and niece. Life is too short for grass under our feet.

Special Men

When daddy walks along the street
And hurries home to me,
He takes the quickest, longest steps
That ever I did see!

But when I go to walk with him,
He acts quite differently,
And takes the shortest, slowest ones
To keep in step with me!

Happy Father's Day to all the special men in our lives. To my papa for giving me all the motivation and drive to attempt anything that brought a fire to my belly. To my brother-in-law for allowing me to know what a brother is like. To HH's dad for raising such a fantastic man. To my HH for being the best daddy that the kids could ever have prayed for. I love you.

Fork Fight

My usually very docile little girl has evolved. What used to be a relatively peaceful experience has turned utterly nasty over the past week. Think a plate of food will make it lovingly into the waiting mouth of LD? How about those smiles and giggles as she enjoyed her dinner conversation with us? Gone. Replaced.

Self-feeding has turned dinner into a screaming fit of "I can do it!" attitude. Only problem, she still needs help getting that delectable food into her waiting mouth and she won't stand for it. Yesterday evening, exasperated by her tantrum, I called on HH to get another spoon for me. Hoping to pull a fast one on her, my plan was quite simple: make her feel that she was still empowered with the fork. It worked. Briefly. Until she caught on to my ploy. It was then that she decided to really turn up the independent side.

How to best foil a mommy's plans? Take the plate to the other side of one's highchair and then wrap a chubby arm in a protective embrace while peering over the side of the same chubby arm giving a look to that mommy that says, "back away...I'm eating!" Some things are better left undone.

Is it worth the power struggle? No. Little Miss Independent can be in control of this one...it will only be a split second before she glances around for help in obtaining something else and I'll be there to assist with eager Mommy hands.

1 Down...2 to Go

LD and I enjoying our 1st Hawaii beach day

Each morning, long before the sun even dreams of showcasing its rays, HH leans over and gives me a goodbye kiss followed rapidly by a whisper of "I love you," before he sets off to work. This morning, the routine didn't change. Only in addition to whispering, "I love you" I also heard him say, "happy 1 year of living in Hawaii." Really?!? It's already been a year? You're kidding me. I love my HH for remembering for me...I could have told you we're coming up on a year, but never the exact day we landed here. Time has flown.

HH and HS after playing in the Hawaiian waters for the 1st time

However, I do vividly recall the moments leading up to this move: the angst of getting Kendo's medical record in pristine condition in order to avoid any unnecessary drama, being told their wasn't a room for us at the Navy Lodge and then getting kicked out of one, moving into a brand new home that we'd never stepped inside of and relishing that for the first time in HH's military career the housing situation truly worked to our benefit, and many...many...more things. It is with all those trials and tribulations that I sit hear now and say, wow! We've made it. Our three year orders only have two years remaining.

It took me a while, a few crying sessions to get over New England (silence from the peanut gallery, please...I loved New England), a couple of ponderings on how public school will look really good after three years of paying for private, but then...I put on my big girl panties and I decided to look at all the positives that Hawaii has to offer for those who are not merely a tourist enjoying paradise for a week. We have embraced this tour just like we have any other. We love the landscape, mountains, and tradewinds. Asia pulses through the culture here and we feel soothed by the smells of spices and sweets that have over the last 10 years helped define us. Visitors are willing to cross the pond for a taste of our historic B&B, a first in the twelve years of HH being stationed outside of the East coast. Rhythms of the ancient hula, words of Aloha, and flowers blooming year round have served as comforters and rejuvenate my soul when I'm thinking I should be on the East coast for a tour.

Our beach bums a year later

It's been a year and you couldn't pay me enough to make a household goods move anytime soon. Our house has made the transition from merely walls to a secure environment for us all to grow and build memories. The cars fit comfortably in the garage and we've discovered our favorite beaches and become regulars at a few restraunts. From this moment, we have two more years to go but who's counting? This will be the first tour ever that is three years. There is still much more to explore, learn, and enjoy. It's been a heck of a transitional year, but we are now settled. We are happy. We have made Hawaii "home".

Steps and Skyscrapers

Looking for a good way to begin summer break, we headed to Diamond Head. We've been here almost a year and hadn't yet hiked the most famous scene of Waikiki. We headed out from the house and were at the park by about 8 AM. Perfect. Not too early and not too hot. As we began the hike, LD chatted away at my back and I shifted her body weight on my back praying a Hail Mary silently under my breath that I was going to make it to the awesome views awaiting me all the way up at the tippy top of Diamond Head.


Diamond Head reaches an impressive 760 ft summit and is around 3, 500 feet in diameter. Known the world over for dominating the end of Waikiki Beach, many visitors and locals alike enjoy the thrill of the hike and reaching the top of this old volcano crater. Feeling the climb of Mt. Fuji all over again, I paced myself and kept a steady gait up the initial pathway which quickly changes to a very narrow series of switchbacks that traversed the steep incline of the crater. Just when you feel like you are almost to the top, reality rears its ugly head...in order to get to the pristine coastal views, stairs must be climbed. Much better than a work out that the stair stepper can provide you in a gym, we began our ascent up the stairs. At one point, you must go through a tunnel to reach the last set of stairs...99 of them to be exact. These stairs kicked my tail as I carried LD up them. My thighs were burning, by butt ached, and my calves were on flames. LD continued her chat and DF S kept all of our spirits high.


The groaning muscles was all worth it for the incredible view from the top of one of the old pill boxes. It seemed as though we could see forever. The skies were a crystal blue and the sea the brightest and most brilliant blue hue with mighty ships and sailboats enjoying the calmness. We took a lot of pictures up at the top. The way down was easier than going up and all of our legs felt a little like tubes of jelly from the strain they had experienced on the way up. It was an amazing hike. All 271 steps, dark tunnel, and endless switchbacks of it.

Kiss 1st Grade Goodbye

Why am I always such a sentimental schmaltz? It seems that everyone else on the blacktop (or the ocean top as I call it since it is so blue!) stood by their children on the last day of school as if the day was just any other day. Not me. I was bawling even before the pledge of allegiance was through. It then took all I could muster just to make it through the school song without wanting to hold on desperately to HS and wish that I could wear red glitter shoes and tap my heels together and take us to another place.

I hate that he is getting older. I really do. I wish time could freeze. I don't want to get older, I don't want to blink, and I certainly don't long for the summer to go quickly. Nope. I had to kiss my handsome 1st grader this morning goodbye. When I picked him back up at the carpool line, I was greeted with a big smile and a wink as he said, "mommy! I made it! I'm a 2nd grader now!!!"

He handed me an envelope that has kept track of each time a report card came home with the date and my signature. For this viewing, there wasn't a place for me to sign and return. The significance of that fact was overwhelming. See the beginning sentence for my reaction on this. I opened the envelope and then skipped to the moment of truth....yes. All that hardwork, all that homework, all the projects that we enjoyed working on had showcased the talents HS has in his possession. He has done fantastically well academically and the bottom of the report card was the unmistakeable signature of his teacher with a promoted to....grade 2.

Where are my tissues?

A Dog, A Butterfly, and A Girl

LD lately has officially declared two of her toys treasured friends. Spot and Butter follow her everywhere and LD adores bending down to check on their ability to follow her with class. Her friends have provided her endless amounts of walks and chats around the livingroom and a plentitude of laughs for her mommy. A dog, a butterfly, and a girl. Perfect.

We Need More Candles

“The secret to staying young is to live honestly, eat slowly, and lie about your age.” ~Lucille Ball

Happy Birthday, to me! I've been spoiled rotten this past weekend. I truly feel like the weekend went by with such flurry that it is nice to sit and type this knowing that the celebrations, hugs, presents, and candles have led me to this moment....I've stepped again down a path into a new age. This past one was a fantastic one. I can only hope that this one will be even better.

The days were relaxing, the kiddos played and put on light saber shows, and spending time sitting on the lanai with a glass of wine and talking to HH filled the hours of the evenings. Breakfasts were delish and HH prepared heavenly omelets on Saturday and on Sunday I splurged and made mom's French toast (my favorite sweet breakfast food). Saturday evening date night left me dizzy from enjoying and dining on sushi at the local Kaiten sushi before cuddling beside HH for an adventure into space as we enjoyed the Star Trek movie.

Sunday found us still relaxing and completing some household chores, but not any for me (I sipped coffee on the lanai). By Sunday evening upon return home from a son date to the movies (UP! was HS's request for getting an all green week...his 2nd in a row!!!), HH and LD were waiting for us with the champagne, steaks, and red beans and rice ready to be enjoyed for dinner on the lanai as the lanterns floated. Presents were lined up in beautiful flower paper beckoning for discovery.

This has been the first year that I looked at HH and wanted to beg him not to put all the candles on my cake. It has been a going evolution between us to always put the right amount of candles on the cake. However, when he announced that he needed to go buy more candles, I cringed. The candles needed on my cake are increasing exponentially. That's OK when it is for a kid's cake. Not an adults. However, by the time the cake (a delicious German Chocolate made by HH) and the torch of candles made it to me, gone was the panic of turning another year older.

After all, when HH questioned HS on really knowing my age during our dinner, HS became defensive and said, "of course, I know how how old mommy is....she's 24!!!"

Ahhhh...that's my darlin' boy! Why be scared or bummed that I'm turning another year older? There's no reason to "age." Physically, I'm doing everything I can to stay healthy and stay fit. Mentally, I'm challenging myself daily through keeping up with the kids and HH. When I'm feeling "old" I'll just have HS remind me of how old I am...may he always given me an age at least 10 years off!!! Happy Birthday, to me!