Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Picture Postcards
Some shots from our travels to the U.P. and Mackinac Island while Adam was in town. I'll let the pictures tell the story.
Friday, August 5, 2011
The Soldier's Return
And she cries for the soldier's return
Despair, at being alone for so long
By the light of the candle that burns
For his life, and for the day of the soldier's return
--Erasure
My husband came home and it was glorious. I left work in the middle of the day to pick him up from the local airport, and when I saw him I fell into his arms and cried. He was home, safe, in one piece and I was so incredibly lucky.
We picked up Bryony later that afternoon, with some trepidation about what her response would be. After all, she hadn't seen her daddy outside of " the box" in five months. How would she react? She exceeded both our expectations. As soon as she saw Adam, a wide, toothy grin erupted all over her tiny face and she ran to him. When asked if she knew who he was, she immediately said, "Daddy!" followed by "poopie!", which made us all laugh. That's how we knew she was going to be fine.
However, she didn't let him out of her sight the entire time he was home,as if he might disappear forever if she allowed him to turn the corner. If he even left to use the restroom, Bryony started whimpering for her daddy. I realized early on in his visit that his imminent departure was going to be just as difficult on her as it would be on me.
But we made the most of our time with Adam. We planned a magnificent trip--four days camping in Michigan's Upper Peninsula, one night's stay in Canada, and then two days' stay on Mackinac Island...the weather was beautiful, everything worked out perfectly, it was a dream vacation. And yet, we knew that only days after vacation ended, Adam would be leaving us, again. I didn't want our trip to ever end. I didn't want to say good-bye to the beauty of northern Michigan or to the beauty of being with my partner again.
But I did. Wednesday morning we arose early to finish packing his seabag (the same one, he pointed out, that he had used his first day in the military twenty-two years ago). We woke up a sleeping Bryony and gently told her that Daddy had to leave to go back to "the box." Thankfully she was too sleepy to understand. Upon arriving at the airport, the reality of his leaving hit me all at once and I felt weak. How could I go back to being alone after the tease of being with my partner again? How would I pick up the reins and become a single parent once more? How would I deal with a baby girl who was about to be devastated by the absence of her father yet again?
He held me and kissed me and told me it would be okay, and then he was gone. And I cried, even though I tried not to for Bryony's sake. But, as I suspected, she didn't realize what was happening, at least not until that evening, when I picked her up from school and she asked for him. She came home looking for Adam, opening doors and peering around them, calling out his name. My heart was breaking and I forced myself not to cry so that I could explain to her that Daddy was not here anymore. She picked up a pair of his sneakers and dirty socks that he left on the floor, and she brought them to me, asking for Daddy...how do you explain five more months to a two-year old?
Friday Adam arrived safely back in Iraq, and we were able to Skype with him that evening. It was good and familiar and bittersweet. Bittersweet because he's there and we're here, and because this separation is our current state of normalcy; having him home for two weeks was a special treat. And yes, I know that this current state of affairs won't last forever, but Bryony is growing so fast! and we won't get this time with her back. It hurts to know how much he's missing out on.
But because everything comes full circle, in Adam's absence remains the presence of him in his daughter. Bryony is so tall and lanky--she is her daddy's daughter--towering over her peers. And when she smiles...that's Adam's smile. I look at her, and I'm reminded...Adam is never very far away.
Despair, at being alone for so long
By the light of the candle that burns
For his life, and for the day of the soldier's return
--Erasure
My husband came home and it was glorious. I left work in the middle of the day to pick him up from the local airport, and when I saw him I fell into his arms and cried. He was home, safe, in one piece and I was so incredibly lucky.
We picked up Bryony later that afternoon, with some trepidation about what her response would be. After all, she hadn't seen her daddy outside of " the box" in five months. How would she react? She exceeded both our expectations. As soon as she saw Adam, a wide, toothy grin erupted all over her tiny face and she ran to him. When asked if she knew who he was, she immediately said, "Daddy!" followed by "poopie!", which made us all laugh. That's how we knew she was going to be fine.
However, she didn't let him out of her sight the entire time he was home,as if he might disappear forever if she allowed him to turn the corner. If he even left to use the restroom, Bryony started whimpering for her daddy. I realized early on in his visit that his imminent departure was going to be just as difficult on her as it would be on me.
But we made the most of our time with Adam. We planned a magnificent trip--four days camping in Michigan's Upper Peninsula, one night's stay in Canada, and then two days' stay on Mackinac Island...the weather was beautiful, everything worked out perfectly, it was a dream vacation. And yet, we knew that only days after vacation ended, Adam would be leaving us, again. I didn't want our trip to ever end. I didn't want to say good-bye to the beauty of northern Michigan or to the beauty of being with my partner again.
But I did. Wednesday morning we arose early to finish packing his seabag (the same one, he pointed out, that he had used his first day in the military twenty-two years ago). We woke up a sleeping Bryony and gently told her that Daddy had to leave to go back to "the box." Thankfully she was too sleepy to understand. Upon arriving at the airport, the reality of his leaving hit me all at once and I felt weak. How could I go back to being alone after the tease of being with my partner again? How would I pick up the reins and become a single parent once more? How would I deal with a baby girl who was about to be devastated by the absence of her father yet again?
He held me and kissed me and told me it would be okay, and then he was gone. And I cried, even though I tried not to for Bryony's sake. But, as I suspected, she didn't realize what was happening, at least not until that evening, when I picked her up from school and she asked for him. She came home looking for Adam, opening doors and peering around them, calling out his name. My heart was breaking and I forced myself not to cry so that I could explain to her that Daddy was not here anymore. She picked up a pair of his sneakers and dirty socks that he left on the floor, and she brought them to me, asking for Daddy...how do you explain five more months to a two-year old?
Friday Adam arrived safely back in Iraq, and we were able to Skype with him that evening. It was good and familiar and bittersweet. Bittersweet because he's there and we're here, and because this separation is our current state of normalcy; having him home for two weeks was a special treat. And yes, I know that this current state of affairs won't last forever, but Bryony is growing so fast! and we won't get this time with her back. It hurts to know how much he's missing out on.
But because everything comes full circle, in Adam's absence remains the presence of him in his daughter. Bryony is so tall and lanky--she is her daddy's daughter--towering over her peers. And when she smiles...that's Adam's smile. I look at her, and I'm reminded...Adam is never very far away.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Not-So-Terrible Two
Even saying that I have a two-year old feels strange in my mouth. But alas! it's true. Bryony turned two years old on her first day of school, and she has flourished and thrived ever since. All my worries that her development might be stunted by the trauma of being separated from her dad have been put aside. She is a mighty, mighty two year old and I feel so incredibly lucky to be a witness to her progress. Oh, and nothing about her is stunted. She's three feet tall at barely two years old.
I've started a little tradition of Friday date night with Bryony, taking her out to local restaurants to just spend some quality time together, catching up on her day and learning new things about her. Two weeks ago, we went for to our favorite Lansing Thai restaurant, Bangkok House. Last week, she was the classiest of little ladies at our favorite Indian restaurant, Sindhu. Tonight, we went to Altu's, the Ethiopian restaurant that serves up de-lish vegetarian fare with ample sides of injira bread. In the course of our little "dates," I've found that my daughter is growing and changing before my very eyes. She knows how to properly use a napkin--place it neatly in her lap--and wipe face and hands when necessary. She enjoys trying new foods, even exotic spicy foods, and she LOVES Indian (just like her mama). Tonight, upon asking for more bread (signing "more" with both hands in true American Sign Language), I told her she'd have to eat more of her veggies first. While she wasn't thrilled, she scooped up her spoon and played "airplane" with it, aiming the food-laden aircraft into the terminal, er, her mouth. I used to play that game with her many months ago, long enough ago that I wouldn't have expected her to remember. I can only assume that she plays the same game with the kids and teachers at school.
Bryony loves school. I'm not joking. She grabs my hand in the morning, pulling me out the door, saying over and over again, "Mama, GO! Ready!" If I dare spend five minutes fixing my lunch, I have to hear about it. "Mama, ready! No, Mama, go!" I make sure to turn the radio off on the three-minute drive to her school, trying to soak in as many last minutes with her as I can. Usually we sing songs, her favorites being Row, Row, Row Your Boat, Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, The Itsy, Bitsy Spider, and Baby Shark. But once we step foot inside her school, it's over. My little girl becomes a bunch of other little toddlers' friend, and she has little time for me. I try to get last hugs and kisses from her before I leave for work, but she won't even look at me, so intent is she on her friends (and the breakfast the teachers are about to dish out!). Gone are the days of her shedding tears when I leave; now the only one wanting me to linger...is me.
She knows the names of all her schoolmates, and a few weeks ago her daily report said she patted a classmate's back until he fell asleep! The teachers thought that was incredibly cute (and so does her mama...). She can also identify all of my family members from photos and is starting to learn Daddy's side, too. She thinks that any present that she receives comes from "Shan-don," my sister Shannon. She knows that her best buddy Iselin loves airplanes, so everytime one passes overhead, Bryony points to the sky, calling out "Airplane! Airplane! Iselin!"
Bryony loves animals, especially our cats Greg House and Holiday. She says good-bye to them everytime we leave the house, and runs to them first thing when we return. Her teachers at school have told me on multiple occasions that Bryony loves the stuffed cat and dog toys in the classroom, and carries them around all day long. She can make most animal sounds, true to their actual sound (ie--she snorts like a pig rather than saying "oink").
I found a couple weeks ago that she can count to ten in both English and Spanish (although she skips four and five in English, and counts a bit out of order in Spanish). One day while ending a Skype session with Adam, she adamantly repeated, "Ah-yos!" It took me awhile to realize she was attempting to say "Adios!" to her dad as we bid him farewell.
She still dances and girates to just about every single piece of music she hears. Tonight at dinner, she was jiggling in her seat to Mellencamp's "Cherry Bomb," Heart's "Magic Man" and Smokey Robinson's "Tears of a Clown." As I've been watching the first season of Glee on DVD the last few weeks, I've seen my little girl go from tiny dancer to little voice. Watch out Rachel Berry...
But as fast as she's growing, she's still young enough to not completely grasp some concepts, like the fact that Daddy is moving from "the box" to real life. At first, I thought it would be fun to surprise her with Adam's arrival by having him pick her up from school with me one day. But I realized that at barely two years old, she has been through the ringer when it's come to moves and separations, and it wouldn't be fair to her to spring another change--good as it might be--on her while she's still so young. So instead, I've been casually saying things like, "It'll be great when Daddy's here to take you to school, right?" or "I can hardly wait to see Daddy give you big hugs!" She just looks at me skeptically and says, "No, Mama. Daddy. Box." Hey, I tried.
She gets into loads of trouble, have no doubt. Timeouts have become a familiar friend (to me) in our household and yes, they work! She hates being put in the corner, hates being forced to sit still, hates being ostracized while the world goes on around her. I set the timer on the oven and go about my business while she howls and wails. I tell her I can deal with a crying child, but I cannot deal with a disobedient one. She doesn't appreciate that statement, but that's okay.
Oh! One more thing! (and yes, I realize I'm going through the laundry list...). She has started using the potty! Well, the potty chair, but it's a start. Funny how this very rote necessity in adult life is such a monumentous occasion when it comes to our kids learning...but the idea of disposable diapers and diaper rash being a thing of the past is so incredibly motivating that I am hopping onboard the "potty chair" bandwagon and in the front seat. But, I know my kid enough to know that she will potty train in her own due time, not under my timeline. Stubborness. An inherited trait.
Oh, and she loves shoes. Her new favorite thing is to wear just a diaper and wedge heels. She's setting fashion trends for babies the world over.
There are so many things I'm forgetting to talk about, I know. She is growing so fast and is so fun and lovely, and time is passing by so quickly, I can hardly keep up. But, alas, here are a few nuggets about my wee bit who is tall and leggy and getting too big for me to still be calling baby.
You'll always be my baby, B.
I've started a little tradition of Friday date night with Bryony, taking her out to local restaurants to just spend some quality time together, catching up on her day and learning new things about her. Two weeks ago, we went for to our favorite Lansing Thai restaurant, Bangkok House. Last week, she was the classiest of little ladies at our favorite Indian restaurant, Sindhu. Tonight, we went to Altu's, the Ethiopian restaurant that serves up de-lish vegetarian fare with ample sides of injira bread. In the course of our little "dates," I've found that my daughter is growing and changing before my very eyes. She knows how to properly use a napkin--place it neatly in her lap--and wipe face and hands when necessary. She enjoys trying new foods, even exotic spicy foods, and she LOVES Indian (just like her mama). Tonight, upon asking for more bread (signing "more" with both hands in true American Sign Language), I told her she'd have to eat more of her veggies first. While she wasn't thrilled, she scooped up her spoon and played "airplane" with it, aiming the food-laden aircraft into the terminal, er, her mouth. I used to play that game with her many months ago, long enough ago that I wouldn't have expected her to remember. I can only assume that she plays the same game with the kids and teachers at school.
Bryony loves school. I'm not joking. She grabs my hand in the morning, pulling me out the door, saying over and over again, "Mama, GO! Ready!" If I dare spend five minutes fixing my lunch, I have to hear about it. "Mama, ready! No, Mama, go!" I make sure to turn the radio off on the three-minute drive to her school, trying to soak in as many last minutes with her as I can. Usually we sing songs, her favorites being Row, Row, Row Your Boat, Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, The Itsy, Bitsy Spider, and Baby Shark. But once we step foot inside her school, it's over. My little girl becomes a bunch of other little toddlers' friend, and she has little time for me. I try to get last hugs and kisses from her before I leave for work, but she won't even look at me, so intent is she on her friends (and the breakfast the teachers are about to dish out!). Gone are the days of her shedding tears when I leave; now the only one wanting me to linger...is me.
She knows the names of all her schoolmates, and a few weeks ago her daily report said she patted a classmate's back until he fell asleep! The teachers thought that was incredibly cute (and so does her mama...). She can also identify all of my family members from photos and is starting to learn Daddy's side, too. She thinks that any present that she receives comes from "Shan-don," my sister Shannon. She knows that her best buddy Iselin loves airplanes, so everytime one passes overhead, Bryony points to the sky, calling out "Airplane! Airplane! Iselin!"
Bryony loves animals, especially our cats Greg House and Holiday. She says good-bye to them everytime we leave the house, and runs to them first thing when we return. Her teachers at school have told me on multiple occasions that Bryony loves the stuffed cat and dog toys in the classroom, and carries them around all day long. She can make most animal sounds, true to their actual sound (ie--she snorts like a pig rather than saying "oink").
I found a couple weeks ago that she can count to ten in both English and Spanish (although she skips four and five in English, and counts a bit out of order in Spanish). One day while ending a Skype session with Adam, she adamantly repeated, "Ah-yos!" It took me awhile to realize she was attempting to say "Adios!" to her dad as we bid him farewell.
She still dances and girates to just about every single piece of music she hears. Tonight at dinner, she was jiggling in her seat to Mellencamp's "Cherry Bomb," Heart's "Magic Man" and Smokey Robinson's "Tears of a Clown." As I've been watching the first season of Glee on DVD the last few weeks, I've seen my little girl go from tiny dancer to little voice. Watch out Rachel Berry...
But as fast as she's growing, she's still young enough to not completely grasp some concepts, like the fact that Daddy is moving from "the box" to real life. At first, I thought it would be fun to surprise her with Adam's arrival by having him pick her up from school with me one day. But I realized that at barely two years old, she has been through the ringer when it's come to moves and separations, and it wouldn't be fair to her to spring another change--good as it might be--on her while she's still so young. So instead, I've been casually saying things like, "It'll be great when Daddy's here to take you to school, right?" or "I can hardly wait to see Daddy give you big hugs!" She just looks at me skeptically and says, "No, Mama. Daddy. Box." Hey, I tried.
She gets into loads of trouble, have no doubt. Timeouts have become a familiar friend (to me) in our household and yes, they work! She hates being put in the corner, hates being forced to sit still, hates being ostracized while the world goes on around her. I set the timer on the oven and go about my business while she howls and wails. I tell her I can deal with a crying child, but I cannot deal with a disobedient one. She doesn't appreciate that statement, but that's okay.
Oh! One more thing! (and yes, I realize I'm going through the laundry list...). She has started using the potty! Well, the potty chair, but it's a start. Funny how this very rote necessity in adult life is such a monumentous occasion when it comes to our kids learning...but the idea of disposable diapers and diaper rash being a thing of the past is so incredibly motivating that I am hopping onboard the "potty chair" bandwagon and in the front seat. But, I know my kid enough to know that she will potty train in her own due time, not under my timeline. Stubborness. An inherited trait.
Oh, and she loves shoes. Her new favorite thing is to wear just a diaper and wedge heels. She's setting fashion trends for babies the world over.
There are so many things I'm forgetting to talk about, I know. She is growing so fast and is so fun and lovely, and time is passing by so quickly, I can hardly keep up. But, alas, here are a few nuggets about my wee bit who is tall and leggy and getting too big for me to still be calling baby.
You'll always be my baby, B.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Snippets
Why did the person next to me decide to park their beatup van so close to my car that could barely squeeze Bryony into her carseat as I tried to open my car door?
Why does the person who did the hurting barely remember the event, when the person who was hurt can't forget?
How do you know when it's time to let go of old grudges and just friend that snooty popular kid from high school on Facebook?
Why does my cat insist on sleeping on top of the computer printer/fax when there is a perfectly good couch and kitty bed in the same room?
How can I love my cats, and yet not love having cats?
When will I stop having awful daydreams about tragic things happening to my kid?
Will my house ever be as clean as I'd like it to be?
Who can I thank for Skype?
-Snippets-
Why does the person who did the hurting barely remember the event, when the person who was hurt can't forget?
How do you know when it's time to let go of old grudges and just friend that snooty popular kid from high school on Facebook?
Why does my cat insist on sleeping on top of the computer printer/fax when there is a perfectly good couch and kitty bed in the same room?
How can I love my cats, and yet not love having cats?
When will I stop having awful daydreams about tragic things happening to my kid?
Will my house ever be as clean as I'd like it to be?
Who can I thank for Skype?
-Snippets-
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Hasta Luego, Amigos
Bryony's little boyfriend Mateo moved away with his family this week. We said our final good-byes in their front yard the evening before they left. I teared up, and gave Mateo's mum, Pam, a good long hug. Bryony and Mateo said unwitting "good-byes." As we pulled away from their house, however, Bryony shouted, "Mama!" When I answered her, she repeated tearfully, "Teo? Teo? Teo?" She had never called out for her little friend before, so something told me she knew this good-bye was going to be the last one for awhile.
Bryony and Mateo have known each other since they were about seven months old. Bryony and I met Teo and his mama when we were all volunteering at the local community greenhouse. The kids got the affectionate nickname "Garden Babies" from the staff because they played in the dirt all the time.
Pamela became a dear friend. Pamela, you taught me so much about what "be(ing) good to people!" is all about. You and Luke set the example. Thank you for your kindness, wisdom and friendship. I miss you already.
Pamela and I have jokingly said that we'll re-introduce arranged marriages in this country just to make sure we are in-laws one day. We've both acknowledged that it smarts a little to know that our babies will likely not ever remember each other, despite their sweet baby relationship now. How many little friends did we both have as children whose names we don't even know now as adults? Our kids might one day look through this blog, or a photo album and ask who that kid sitting next to them in the picture was. I'll just smile.
Even if Bryony and Mateo don't grow up knowing each other, I hope to never lose touch with my friends Pamela and Luke. You guys are an amazing family, and I feel so lucky to have you as friends. But alas, no adios, but rather, "until then..." :-)
Saturday, July 2, 2011
And So We Begin...
The countdown to Adam's arrival has begun. Although we don't know for sure what day he'll come in, I've decided to think that the 18th is the day. That means I'm only 16 days away...and since today is almost over, it's really only 15 days away.
But, in true don't-rush-my-life-away fashion, I'm trying to just enjoy the days between here and there, knowing that while his visit will be amazing, it will also go by amazingly fast. So, I'm allowing myself to enjoy the anticipation and excitement leading up to his arrival as much as I can to stretch out the entire experience.
Looking forward to seeing you, love.
But, in true don't-rush-my-life-away fashion, I'm trying to just enjoy the days between here and there, knowing that while his visit will be amazing, it will also go by amazingly fast. So, I'm allowing myself to enjoy the anticipation and excitement leading up to his arrival as much as I can to stretch out the entire experience.
Looking forward to seeing you, love.
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