Zulu Pics

As promised, here are some pics from Zulu Austin back in August. I'm pretty sure the Horseshoe Lounge will never be the same!

Back to blogging

Okay, I realize I've been a lazy blogger lately. What with the husband deploying and the kids going back to school and the freaking full-time job (who do they think I am, super woman?), I have neglected my blogging duties.

I spent some time posting on what is known as the "FRG" (Family Readiness Group) yahoo site (which I created, by the way). Traditionally, a military FRG is supposed to provide a way for the families of deployed soldiers to find support, commiserate, share, etc. When the families live on base, or near each other, it can be an incredibly helpful thing. In our case, we families are fairly spread out, so the idea of an internet group was very appealing. This unit is comprised of a bunch of men and two women, so, again, in our case, the "families" are a bunch of wives and girlfriends. There's a fair amount of bitching involved in the posts. But that's the point, right, we get to vent and complain about how our soldiers' pay is screwed up, etc., etc. Apparently not. As it turns out, more than one of us wives have been reprimanded by the company commander for airing our concerns. And if that's not bad enough, our husbands have been impacted as well! If there's one thing you don't want to do just before you send your husband off to war, well, it's pissing off his commander. Let's just say that I swallowed my pride, made my apologies (even though he is WRONG!) and said goodbye to that crap. Not long after, the number of posts began to fall dramatically and now the group is practically defunct. Ha! That is what they get.

Okay, moving on, I am back with a vengeance AND I have a new camera, so get ready to be flooded with posts and pictures!

Momma's Little Helper

On the way to school this morning, from Bitty:

“Momma, did you know that I am ferry strong and ferry brave? I can whack stuff! I think you need my help.”

Kid Culture

Beanie is choreographing a dance to her latest piano composition. First she shows Pook what movement goes with each “chord”, then she plays the chord (actually a sequence of notes) and says its name: “this is a waterfall chord…this is a flying chord…” and Pook does the movements. It's actually very interesting and a little scary; I am certain that she is much, much smarter than I am.

Under the category of less cultured…here’s what I overheard while making breakfast. The (semi-nakey)kids were playing on the computer and with play-doh (probably not such a good combination, in retrospect!).

Bitty: “I poot play-doh! Look! I put play-doh in my bottom!” (giggles from all kids)
I chastised him and told him I would take the play-doh away if he did it again.
Bitty: “I’m sorry for put the play-doh in my butt. Pookie did it too!”

Saying Goodbye to Daddy

When I was 21, I conducted my grandmother's funeral service. Just getting there was a nightmare; my plane from DC was grounded in St. Louis in a snowstorm. My mom and cousin met me at the airport the morning of the service with a black dress, stockings, shoes...clothes that I never wore again. But life is funny; we move on, grow, learn, love. This year I went through a different, and even harder, kind of difficulty: watching my kids say goodbye to their father as he prepares for deployment to a combat zone.

After spending a few wonderful days at home in Austin, Tracy's unit departed from DFW on September 14th. We followed the bus from the hotel to the airport, and the USO arranged for the families to go through security and wait with our soldiers at the gate. I will always be thankful for that time we had together.
We’ve gotten to stay in this particular hotel quite a bit over the last few months and the kids have really enjoyed it. They especially like the kid-sized refrigerator!
The soldiers boarded their bus shortly after 5:00 am. It was an incredibly early morning for the kids, considering we didn’t get to sleep until around 1 am, but they handled it well. At the airport, we wrote on the “good luck” sign that will be sent over to the unit headquarters. I didn’t tell the girls what to write, but they knew. The mark above Pook’s writing is Bitty’s “E”.
We watched through the window until Daddy’s plane took off. About ten miles from the airport, my front left tire blew out spectacularly on Loop 635. Somehow I managed not to wreck the van and we spent the next hour waiting for help. We finally got on our way. The girls crashed out soon after, but Bitty had one final commentary on this lousy day.

World Cup, here we come!

The girls have wanted to play soccer for about a year, ever since we went to see their friend Lola play. So, because I am a glutton for punishment, I signed them up to play in a rec league this fall. Fortunately the season only lasts 10 weeks. Yikes. Here are some photos from their first match. Sadly, they lost, but nobody even noticed!