Letting Go

Logan isn't a baby anymore. He is 3 years old and becoming his own person. He is fiercely independent and confident trying new things. It is exciting to see this change in development but I'm still having trouble admitting that he isn't my sweet baby anymore. I think Trey's deployment during Logan's early period made me hold on tighter to the kid than a lot of moms. I didn't have family nearby (we were in Savannah at the time) and didn't leave him other than daycare. Since we've moved closer to home, we've had several requests to keep Logan for the weekend. I know he is taken care of and has a fabulous time on these weekends away but I still don't like them. I don't feel complete without having him with me. I feel guilty letting him go. As a therapist, I have seen so many kids not wanted or not properly nurtured and I hold on tighter to my little monster. Trey was headed to Arkansas Sunday evening and my mom offered to keep Logan until Christmas Eve, when the family is headed to my house. Reluctantly, I agreed. Logan was thrilled when he learned he was going to Sweet P and Granddude's house! He packed his bag and was ready to go...right then! I tried to not squeeze him too tight before loading him in the car. Sunday night was surreal. I was home alone with my two dogs; no husband, no kid. I had trouble sleeping and kept waking up thinking I heard Logan cry upstairs. Seriously, am I going crazy? The routine of work helped yesterday go by more quickly. I stopped by my favorite take out place for dinner and lounged on the couch all evening. I will admit that it was relaxing and nice to eat a warm dinner without getting up a million times to get more milk, pick up a dropped fork, or wipe up spills. Today, I'm planning to go to a movie after work. I might eat dinner in the living room! I may even pick up a long forgotten hobby tonight.

My dad sent several pictures of Logan's adventures yesterday which helped immensely. I called after work last night for a full report from my mom and could hear Logan playing with my brother in the background. I know he is having a blast and is in good hands. I still miss him and am counting the seconds until he is home. Until then, I'll take my husband's advise and enjoy the time alone without guilt. Logan will be home soon and I'll jump right back into mommy mode and there is nothing I enjoy more!

Life with Amelia Bedelia

Do you remember Amelia Bedelia? Let me begin with a brief children's literature lesson for those who have not...Amelia Bedelia is the title character of a series of American children's books written by Peggy Parish. The books were a favorite in my house growing up.

Amelia repeatedly misunderstood various commands of her employer by always taking figures of speech and various terminology literally, causing her to perform wrong actions with comical effect. For instance, the employer asks her to dress the chicken and Amelia sews a tiny chicken-sized dress for the bird. In my personal favorite, Amelia Bedelia Goes Camping, Amelia can be seen pitching the tent as though she was Nolan Ryan. (**Note to my fellow bibliophiles: I consulted Wikipedia for the author's name and learned a few interesting facts. First, the author spent time living in Cameroon and based the character after a domestic in her childhood home. Also, Peggy Parish died in 1988 and her nephew took over the series. There have been 3 illustrators for the series.)

Why are we discussing Amelia Bedelia? Because, I truly believe that my sweet son was abducted by aliens last night and replaced by Amelia Bedelia. We were talking in circles around each other creating chaos and mayhem at every turn. Allow me to illustrate. Logan and I were involved in a baking frenzy trying to finish Christmas gifts. The dogs (mainly Banjo) were attempting to assist with dish washing...a bit prematurely. Minus one batch of zucchini bread. I told Logan, who was crying because Banjo ate the bread, that it was time to "kick the dogs out." Oops. Poor Banjo probably has a nice sore spot on her ribs. Certainly an Amelia moment! Later, as we were working on cookies (which did not get finished due to mixer drama) Logan asked "Why are we making cookies?" As I continued to measure and stir, I said "Because it is Christmastime and..." Before I could finish with "we are making presents for people we love," Logan jumped off his stool, screamed "It's Christmastime!?", ran to the tree, and began ripping the wrapping off the first gift he could get his hands on. After tears and several failed explanations we rewrapped Daddy's present. We cleaned up our mess and headed towards the bathroom to try and scrub some of the dough out of Logan's hair (ok, mine too). I said "Hold on, let me pull my hair back." Logan started crying "Don't pull your hair, mommy! That's not nice!"

Add that Trey was out of town, the dogs kept howling some sort of canine chorus, I overfilled the bubble bath, and Logan was trying his best to demonstrated his independence. I was overwhelmed and frustrated last night; questioned my parenting skills. I'm blogging the chaos so I can someday look back and laugh at the experience. But for now, I'd prefer Amelia Bedelia stay on the pages of beloved children's books and my son and I have one evening of harmonious interaction. We'll see...

Bend It Like Beckham

Logan is obsessed with soccer. Seriously obsessed. I'm not sure what prompted this love as he only recently went to his first soccer game. When the weather turned cool this fall I had to tell him every pair of pants were soccer pants so he would wear them instead of his soccer shorts. Did you know corduroy pants are soccer pants? I found a cute pair of football pants at a consignment sale that matched his UCA jersey and planned for him to be a football player for Halloween. He wore the uniform proudly...but told everyone he was a soccer player. He was given a soccer ball and soccer goal for his birthday and the obsession has officially peaked since.

Last night Logan insisted on wearing his cleats to bed. I told him no shoes on the sheets so he made a pallet on the floor. When I went up to check on him, I found him without a pillow...balancing his head on his soccer ball. Some battles are not worth fighting.

This morning I had just gotten out of the shower when I heard the ball bouncing down the stairs with the pitter patter of Logan's feet following close behind. He dribbled the ball (very well, I must admit!) into my room and then dribbled it into the kitchen for breakfast. The ball was dribbled outside to the car when it was time to load up for daycare. Once at daycare he was reminded that toys stay in the car. He hugged his soccer ball and gave it a big smooch. I got a high five.

Perhaps this obsession will fade after Christmas presents are opened, or I may need to prepare myself to be a soccer mom!

The Great Pumpkin

I have fallen behind on my documentation of life events. I recently wrote about preparing for Christmas and am now traveling back in time to record pre-Thanksgiving goings on. Anyone that knows me understands that I live in a stream-of-consciousness state. My dad once told me that I talk with footnotes. On with the story...

Logan and I packed up one Saturday morning and drove up the road to Jones Orchard to pick our pumpkins. I was a little disappointed to learn that the pumpkins had already been picked and were piled on crates near the entrance of the orchard. The orchard was instead set up for the popular Haunted Corn Maze. Nevermind my disappointment. Logan leaped up and down clapping and shouting "Pumpkins, my pumpkins!" He pointed at another little guy picking out his pumpkin and said "Mommy, that baby is having so much fun!" We inspected all (and I do mean ALL) of the pumpkins and gourds. After trying to pick up every pumpkin, Logan finally settled on the perfect one. We carried our 3 pumpkins to the car and went to the stand to pay. We also picked up local peach jelly (good but nothing like we were able to get in Georgia) and a bag of peanuts. (yes, I know. Logan is supposed to avoid nuts but I caved and he later wheezed...lesson learned)
The following day Logan painted his pumpkin. He artfully layered black, green, and white paint before a final coat of silver glitter. The end product was a gray pumpkin. Perhaps his art skills will improve before next year. He was so proud of his pumpkin! He carried it all over the house and even asked if his pumpkin could sleep in his bed with him. He couldn't wait for Sweet P to visit so he could show off his creation.

Fast forward another day...Logan was in bed and Trey and I were watching television upstairs. I made the comment, "I wonder where Banjo is." Trey replied with something like "Probably downstairs getting into something." A few minutes later our sweet puppy came sauntering up the stairs and into the playroom. She looked guilty. Those sad hound eyes...Oh, and she had pumpkin goo hanging off of her chin. Trey and I both ran downstairs with fear in our hearts. The nightmare was real...Banjo had eaten Logan's precious pumpkin!

What to do, what to do? We put our heads together and came up with a plan. We did what any 3 yr old-fearing parents would do in this situation. We cleaned up the evidence, distracted the kid the following morning, and Trey bought a replacement and painted it before Logan got home from daycare. Trey was proud of his reproduction. All was right in the world until Logan got home. I held my breath and only looked out of one eye. The new pumpkin was considerably bigger than the original. Logan heaved and hefted the new pumpkin into his arms. He looked at me directly. Sweat began to form on my brow and the hair stood up on my head. In a seriously intimidating voice, my son said "Mommy, my pum'kin is growing big like me." WHEW! Someday we will have to fess up and tell him the tale of the great pumpkin. But for now...I know our secret is safe with you!

Personalizing Christmas

Logan is getting to the age where he aware of holidays and becoming inquisitive about celebrations and practices. It is important to Trey and I to establish family traditions while honoring some of the traditions we grew up with in our own families. I remember tree decorating as a funny experience. Mom usually attempted to make the decorating a family event but Dad would get frustrated with her desire for the lights to be perfectly spaced, David would be distracted, and I would want to do things my way. Our family would begin bantering back and forth but I most clearly remember the jokes. David and I would argue over which Nutcracker ornament was higher ranked and therefore would have a higher placement on the tree. Mom would move less attractive ornaments on the back of the tree and David and I would move them back to the front. Mom and Dad have accumulated several odd ornaments over the years....Elvis, a talking ornament from family friends that will need to be hidden from my son as to not teach him language I'm not ready for him to have, and a couple oddly shaped angels. Trey's family has a competition in which they try to beat the other family members in saying "Christmas Eve gift" on Christmas Eve. The reward for being the first to say it is that you get an additional gift.

The Tree: This year Logan and I began assembling the Christmas tree the Sunday after Thanksgiving. I had made hot cocoa and had Christmas music on the stereo. Every branch I put on (allergies = artificial tree), Logan systematically took off. We finally wrestled the tree up to discover our lights must not have made the move from Georgia. It is difficult to explain to a 3 yr old that lights have to come before ornaments (footnote: he calls ornaments instruments??). The following day we bought lights and were ready for ornaments. I quickly (ok, maybe not so quickly) decided that we wouldn't put any glass ornaments up this year (we only broke 5). Our 8 month old basset Banjo thinks it's fun to get under the branches and spin laps around the trunk. CHAOS!

Santa: Gotta love daycare!? Logan has had a few behavioral challenges this year. I am in (near) full support of the daycare providers use of timeout, playground consequences, and restriction of toys but am NOT ok with them threatening to call Santa when he misbehaves. The fallout of said action (which prompted 2 separate "Come to Santa" meetings with the daycare) is that Logan is petrified of Santa. Horrified that a man would sneak down our chimney while we are sleeping. Terrified that he is watching and knows if you have been bad or good. Traumatized by the meer suggestion that children are supposed to sit on his lap! We have finally gotten to a point where we can say "Santa" without the poor child bursting into tears.

The Nativity Story: I proudly put out our nativity scene in the living room and Logan and I have been role playing the story. It is important to Trey and I for Logan to know why we celebrate Christmas and what we believe. We have read books and told stories in which to illustrate Christmas for Logan. Here is what he knows...He told me that Jesus has 2 daddy's. (How else do you explain God and Joseph to a 3 yr old with no exposure to stepparents?) He thinks baby Jesus is adorable! He keeps getting in trouble for carrying our infant Lord around the house. His response has been "but he's so coot." Logan calls the 3 Wise Men the clowns. He thinks they have funny hats on and therefore must be clowns. We have talked about Mary and Joseph taking a trip to find a bed for baby Jesus. I overheard Logan telling the dogs that Mary and Joseph are going to Arkansas so baby Jesus can go night-night. Yep...that's our religious foundation. Cute baby Jesus was born in Arkansas. His 2 dads love him very much and the 3 kings brought presents from afar.

Maybe next year we can begin the tradition building.

Expect the Unexpected

It always seems that the second you begin to feel settled something else happens to shake the foundation. That is certainly the case for our family. We knew a year and a half ago that leaving the Army had both positive and negative consequences. On the positive side, no more deployments, Trey's knees could have respite from daily PT, and we might feel more in control of our future. However, while in the Army we were guaranteed stable employment, comprehensive (although frustrating) health benefits, and a comfortable income. After listing both pros and cons, we knew the pros won and we prepared to begin the next chapter. After months of transition, job searching, and living with a sense of uncertainty we were thrilled to set up shop in Memphis ('burbs). We love our home, church, and neighborhood. BUT then the other shoe drops and we are back to job searching.

Those who know me well understand that transition is not my strong suit. I like stability and thrive in creating tiny adventures in an otherwise boring life. I have to refocus my energy every day and avoid my tendencies for self pity and nervous obsession with the "what if's." During a recent tantrum, I cried to Trey "I feel like our marriage has been one period of waiting after another. I just want stability!" Have I mentioned how incredible my husband is? Seriously, he is my perfect match and has the ability to bring me back to reality like no one else. He held my hand and said, "Lauren, we have stability. We are married and that's not changing. We are parents and that's not changing. We have supportive friends and family and that's not changing." So very true.

I don't know what is next for our family. Perhaps more tough times are headed our way. I don't know if we will continue establishing roots in Memphis or if life will lead us elsewhere. But...I have stability and am striving, with considerable effort some days, to take comfort in this fact.

Grandparents

Logan is a lucky little boy. Not only does he have two incredible (if I do say so myself...haha!) parents who worship the ground he walks on but he has wonderful grandparents. I wonder what a group of grandparents would be called; a gaggle, herd, mass?? We'll go with gaggle for now.

Recently, my parents and grandparents were highlighted in a newspaper article about grandparents. The author wrote about my mom driving back and forth from Conway, Arkansas to Savannah, Georgia to see Logan and help me out while Trey was in Iraq. The author talked about Logan calling my dad "Granddude." The article also discussed my grandparents repeating some of the most special acitivities they did with my brother and I with Logan. (ie. popping popcorn and watching football and basketball games). I grew up never doubting that I was loved. My biological grandparents and 2 stepgrandparents have influenced me (and continue to influence me). While many of my friends had grandparents scattered across the country or who were too feeble (or busy) to interact, my memories are "bustin' at the seams" with the gray hairs!

As I write this blog, my mother in law is running around her large yard with Logan in a wheelbarrow. I hear their combined shrieks of laughter and his yells "Go faster, Grand!" Trey's stepdad Phil has spent the morning repairing several fishing poles in the off chance we'll have time to take Logan fishing this afternoon.

Again, Logan is a very lucky boy...and Trey and I are grateful tenfold!

It's not night-night time...

I'm sitting at the computer checking email listening to my child protest bedtime. So far his excuses have included:

• It's not night-night time.
• I want my Banjo. (our dog)
• I want my Mojo. (our other dog)
• I need my daddy.
• Mommy, I'm awake!
• I want to read a monkey book.
• I need to go to Bear School. (what he calls his daycare)
• Mommy, Sweet P is talking on my phone to me.
• It's wake up time!
• Daddy say it's tickle time! (the only other time he knows)
• I not tired!
• My eyes are awake.
• MOMMMMMMMYYYYYYY!
• My door is closed. I need it open.
• I need chocolate in my milk.
• I want to go potty.

Seriously!? Surely he'll fall asleep soon. At least his pleas are humorous!

Our fantasy world...

Many of my favorite childhood memories are of times my imagination ran wild. I fondly remember a dear friend and I walking around the block brainstorming what would happen if an evil witch returned to our camp. We developed a game plan for combatting her terroristic threats that would make many heads of state jealous! I also remember spending hours designing tree forts, club houses, and forts in the woods. I sincerely hoped my parents would allow me to knock a hole in the wall of my closet to expand my room into the bathroom. Many plays were performed on our front porch and our kitchen chairs were easily converted into a train or the corners of a tent. We had tv, nintendo, and a VCR when I was young...it wasn't THAT long ago...but a majority of my memories don't involve those things. David and I also had toys that talked (ie. David's scary Teddy Ruxpin) or moved (a roller skating doll) but I preferred the toys or objects that could be whatever I dreamed. I once whittled a stick into a treeman and played with him for days!

I'm recounting these silly experiences today and wonder how I will ensure that Logan develops a healthy imagination, the ability to create fun, and to think outside the box. I want Logan to view our backyard as an ocean full of pirates, an African savannah, the wild west, etc. I love to watch Logan begin to stretch his fantasy legs. Below is a list of recent creative moments...allow me to brag for a second, but isn't that what this blog is all about!?

1. Logan told me he couldn't go "night night" because a "monster ate his bed."

2. While talking about my brother's upcoming visit, Logan said "I like Unc. He dances." - I don't remember recent incidents in which David danced for Logan...

3. Logan tells me he swims "like a pig."

4. Prepare yourself...this is perhaps my favorite moment ever...out of the blue, Logan said "I love you big big like a water tower." Collective awwwwwww...

5. Logan fell from the kitchen chair (while not sitting on his bottom like he was instructed) and then refused to walk for 15 minutes because "my legs break'ed."

6. He LOVES to construct complicated block castles, towers, and houses. (Then gets furious when one of our 4 legged beasts knock them over.)

7. We taught Logan to give us bear hugs awhile ago. Now he substitutes various animal sounds for frog hugs, bird hugs, bug hugs, etc.

8. He has begun to draw with purpose. His scribbles are, in fact, daddy or Banjo or his name.

Looking at this list, I feel initially proud...a little nervous that my kid may be psychotic (ha ha)...but still proud. I can't wait to see what is next in his development. I don't often evangelize but...God is good. Logan is proof of an amazing creation perfectly made for this family.

Squash

Logan and I planted a little vegetable garden in the spring. I have not inherited my Grandma Doris' green thumb so this was not only uncharacteristic but a true experiment. The previous owners had a small raised bed in the backyard in which they left zinnias and carrots. I'm sure there were other crops that simply died out. I jumped whole-heartedly into the project without doing my homework...as is my style. The bed is probably 3x6 and I planted the following: watermelon, pumpkin, zucchini, yellow squash, red lettuce, tomatoes, spinach, and bell peppers. Many of the plants were bought as little plants but many others were started as seeds in a little plastic greenhouse that I stored in the pantry. Trey has consistently made fun of my "farming" abilities and my precious crops. Logan hasn't had much interest after the initial planting...until recently.

While the spinach and watermelon have not done well, the yellow squash has taken over. I counted 45 blossoms a week ago and discovered more big yellow blossoms this morning. I like squash and know of a couple squash recipes but had hoped for more variety in our homegrown produce!

Logan has begun to pick the big squash when playing outside. I was initially excited by his interest but quickly learned that he doesn't see the squash as food but as a toy. Our squash have been colored on, thrown as a ball, floated in our little fountain, used as pretend musical instruments, wrapped in blankets and put "night-night", and used as a phone to call various family members. Logan and I even used the squash as models for still life drawings! Needless to say, Trey and I have given up wrestling Logan's precious treasures away from him and are laughing at what the imagination can do with a squash.

The bell peppers appear to have buds on them and we have a few very tiny tomatoes. It will be exciting to see how these veggies will be incorporated into our play!

I don't wanna grow up...

I've been holding onto Logan tight and haven't wanted to let him grow up. I didn't have trouble getting rid of the crib for the big bed but weaning from the pacifier (aka "the plug") and venturing away from diapers is killing me! Babies don't wear big boy underwear!

Last night Logan came into the living room and said "Mommy, I'm gonna need the plug." Trey and I burst out in laughter. I think it's time!

And the other clue that it's time for Logan to grow up came this weekend when he climbed under the table at a restaurant and said, "I hidin' and poopin'!" Yep...it's time.

I am still not ready but realize I have no choice in the matter. Logan is growing up and there isn't anything I can do about it. Grrr! I feel like it is all happening so fast! My mom has hinted that perhaps it's time for another baby. I would like nothing more but it isn't in the cards just yet. (unemployment and Trey's new career do not make for good conditions to add to the family) I think getting the new puppy was a bit of an effort to redirect my need to nurture a baby?? Trey may have to drag me kicking and screaming along the way, but we are going to let Logan be a big boy. No plug, no more diapers. (But, he'll still have Grover...)

Bodies are private

This morning was not unlike most mornings. In a rush to get out the door for daycare and work, I was losing patience with Logan. He was a naked bandit; running from one room to another, narrowly escaping my grasp. I kept yelling up the stairs "Logan, we have to get you dressed for school!" Finally I ran up the stairs and captured the little jaybird. I again said, "Logan, you have to get dressed for school." To which he replied, "No mommy, I will show Harry my penis." I chuckled quietly and continued to wrestle with him to get out the door on time.

On the way to daycare, I called mom, Trey, & Michelle to share Logan's comment. Mom laughed a lot. Trey was in class but texted back LOL. I know Michelle will laugh when she gets the message. I then started to think about the statement and began to panic a little. As a therapist, I've encouraged so many parents to start talking about Good touch/bad touch early. I've worked with kids that have been violated in ways I don't want to put on my family-friendly blog. So, I interrupted Logan's singing/screeching of "Kinkle, Kinkle, Little Tar." I told him "Logan, we don't show our penis to people and no one gets to touch your penis except for you, Mommy and Daddy during diaper time, and your doctor." He nodded and echoed, "doctor."

At daycare I shared the story with his teacher. I half hoped for a chuckle but also wanted to prepare her if Logan continued our conversation at school. She did not smile. She looked straight in my eyes and said "Oh, no. That is not acceptable." I nervously muttered some statement of agreement and awkwardly left for work.

In the car I started to panic. I imagined going to daycare and having a note to see the director. I envisioned being questioned about Logan's penis statement. I practiced explaining that I'm a therapist and have begun age appropriate discussions about boundaries and our bodies. I started thinking about ways to convince the daycare staff that my wild little man is not a perpetrator...

Ok, stop! Parenting has once again thrown me for a loop. We'll see if there is a note on the door when I pick him up. I hope all will be forgotten soon and then I can return to chuckling at, what was at one time this morning, a funny statement.

Going Green for Earth Day

Today is Earth Day. I remember celebrating as a child and learning about recycling at school. We learned to reduce, reuse, and recycle. The main tips I remember were to turn lights off when we leave a room and turn the water off when brushing our teeth. We recycled at home.

As an adult I admit that I haven't remained "green." We didn't have convenient recycling in Savannah, so we didn't. I have reusable shopping bags in the back of a closet somewhere. I haven't bought natural cleaning products and have been generally wasteful. Lately I've wanted to reorganize several areas of my life and have wanted to become more green. We are recycling and I've started a little garden. I want Logan to internalize the lessons he is learning at daycare this week. (Can you believe they celebrate Earth Day at 2 years old!?)

I have spent a good part of the day researching green tips online. I've scribbled ideas and recipes all over a legal pad and admit I'm intimidated. I am not sure where to start. I want to adopt habits that I can sustain. It's not reasonable to burn my bras, live only off the earth, and eat only raw foods. Not reasonable for this family. It would be easy to let my intimidation turn into inaction but I'm going to start small. I can commit to continuing to recycle, turn off unused lights/water, and add a few small actions. (ie. not buying cleaning products until my current supply is gone and then buying/making healthier options...reduce my use of paper towels...maybe even make detergent like my sister-in-law has done.)

I want this commitment to stand longer than many of my others that have been abandoned after a brief passionate moment. (ie. making our own candles/diffuser oil, exercising, dieting-ugh!, sewing, making extra money by selling on ebay, blogging/journaling regularly, writing, etc.) I plan to guilt myself into maintaining this focus by remembering that Logan is watching and learning my every move. As cliche as it is, I owe him a healthier future. (Gag! I hate when I'm sappy & generic.) Besides, I want Logan to learn that passion can create big changes with a little hard work.

As I type this silly blog o' inspiration, I am sincere. (And I'm singing Jack Johnson's The 3 R's song...) Happy Earth Day! Go Green Geiers!

Sick Day

I'm about to be laid off. I've never been faced with this reality and am stressed. I've mailed out a million and one resumes and am praying (hard) that an agency will soon realize they simply cannot operate without me. (I've never been based completely in reality.) With this job winding down and no other in sight, worries fill my every minute. How will we pay for daycare, the mortgage, and groceries? How long will our savings hold out? Am I doing something wrong? Why can't I find a job...I have a freakin' masters degree! I can't sleep and my stomach remains in knots. Last week I found my leave update on my desk and read that I had one sick day. I decided late Sunday night that I needed this sick day as a mental health day. (Not completely in vain, Logan has a horrible diaper rash that needed babying for another day before turned over to daycare.) I woke up early yesterday morning and decided to spend the day with Logan at the zoo. Unfortunately, Trey work up early with a high fever and sore throat! By 10a my little man and I were walking hand in hand towards the front gate. If you have never seen the entry to the Memphis zoo, you are missing out! Very cool! Logan and I had a wonderful time looking at the animals. I savored every second of my day with Logan, growing healthier by the second.

He studied the animals. Several times I prompted him to move on and he said, "No, Mommy. I lookin'." Logan's highlights were riding the train around the farm, the hissing cockroaches, and the gibbons (that's my boy!). My heart melted when he waved goodbye to the penguins and said "Bye bye penguins. Love you!" We laughed at the little sparrows that begged for our lunch and both stood amazed by the gorilla washing her food in the creek and the baby giraffe eating hay. I sat on a bench reflecting on our day while Logan ran around the playground. I try to present myself as tough but this kid has created an absolute marshmallow. My eyes filled with tears as I thought about our first trip to the zoo together, when he was only 6 months old. I wish with all of my heart that I could be a stay at home mommy and not miss out on Logan's days. However, it's just not in the cards right now. I looked around at other mommies around the playground and wondered what their worries are. Suddenly, Logan's cries for me snapped me out of my daydreaming/pity party and back into reality. He had climbed too high on the jungle gym and was scared. I flew into action and rescued him like any super mom would do. He squeezed my neck, patted my neck, and cried "Oh mommy. Oh mommy." We stood there in the middle of the playground at the Memphis zoo holding each other and crying. No one else existed in that moment. After what seemed like a cherished eternity, we collected ourselves and continued on our zoo tour.

When I think back on my last 30 years, this day stands out as one of the best. Sure, I am still losing my job and have nothing lined up. Sure, Trey has strep throat and I have used up my one sick day. Sure, Logan threw a whopper of a fit last night with a kick to Mojo's ribs and a hit on my legs. Sure, when I do find a job Logan will still go to daycare and call his teacher "Mommy" some days. But, we will survive it together. "Oh mommy."

No post today...just wanted to post this picture. Mommy's "sweet" boy. Notice the bruise on the cheek. Logan fell headfirst into the door frame. He also has a giant bruise and knot behind one ear from falling into a table at school. He gets his grace from me!

How do you expect the truly unexpected?

I'm writing at the tail end of a very difficult week. I had a wonderful weekend with dear friends and began the week excited about continuing to settle into daily life in our new home. Monday seemed delightfully uneventful until I recieved a text from a family friend. The text told me that my childhood best friend's father had been shot. My world began to spin. I announced the news calmly to Trey and my brother, visiting over his spring break and walked upstairs to look on the computer for information.

I sat at the computer reading and rereading reports of the incident. My friend's dad was found dead in his business by a coworker. He was dead. My friend's dad was dead. Early reports indicated the death could have been either suicide or homicide. My chest tighted and my throat felt dry. He is dead. I emailed his wife and sent a quick note to my friend. Trey came to see what I was doing and I crumbled. He is dead. I hardly slept.

Tuesday I was surprised to have a reply from my friend with an invitation to call. I did not know what to say but knew I should call. She answered, I asked how she is, and she said good. Silence on both ends. We both chuckled and commented about the irony of the question and answer during such a horrific time. She sounded strong and confident; evidently taking charge during the difficult initial days. I was blown away when she said the police spent the first day questioning the family...can you imagine!? We talked about the family's hope that the body would be released for burial later in the day and the fact that the police have communicated no concern for the family's safety. (I hadn't even considered the fact that the family could potentially be in harm's way...the killer is still at large? Is this CSI/Law & Order?)

This has shaken me hard. My two closest childhood friends have now both lost their dads in a matter of months. Sure, I've known other people who have died and have grieved in the past. (Grandpa Jim, DeeDee, Grandpa Roy, etc) I am not sure why this is impacting me so heavilty. Perhaps it is because both men died so suddenly or perhaps it is because I have watched my friends grieve and pictured myself in the position.

I am not writing for sympathy or support. I simply need to process my feelings as part of my grief process. I ache for Jessica's family and wish there was something I could do to change the situation. I talked to my mom briefly about my sadness and asked a favor. "Will you please tell Dad that given my recent history with losing important father figures...tell him I need him to eat healthy, stay out of the sun, and not get shot."

Bird in Hand...

There is a lesson in every moment. Trey is in St. Louis for a training this week. Logan and I decided to eat dinner on the patio and play in the yard until the sun went down. After dinner (only minimal drama; Mojo ate Logan's hot dog & Logan dropped his lemonade on the ground.) we began playing with the wagon. Logan sat inside and instructed me to go "dat way" or "dis way." We made our way to the gate and discovered that a mother bird had made a nest in the rocks while we were out of town. I suppose she thought she could set up a nice, quiet home but little did she know Mojo was only temporarily in the kennel. Logan and I watched the mother bird protecting her nest for a few moments. I even took a picture (posted). Then, it began...Mojo came to see what we were looking at and chased the mother bird away. I called my mom for advice. Should I leave the nest alone risking Mojo killing the eggs and the mother bird or should I move the nest to a safer place? Mom simply stated, "Lauren, this is an example of survival of the fittest."

My conscious couldn't just leave well alone. I grabbed a large shovel and moved the nest to the other side of the fence. I did so under the watchful eye of the mother bird. Once the nest was safely relocated, I let Mojo back outside...where she promptly chased the mother bird, caught her, and killed her in cold blood. Logan started screaming "Momo popped da bird!" (Note: a few weeks ago Mojo popped a beach ball and Logan has held a grudge.) Mojo strutted around the yard like she had accomplished a fantastic feat. (As an aside, while I removed the dead mother bird from the yard Logan stopped screaming about Momo popping the bird and got quiet...uh oh!I found him drinking out of the fish fountain. UGH!)

I took Logan inside for his bath and to go to bed; all the while feeling sad for the abandoned eggs. I decided to bring the eggs inside and set up a little nest. I wrapped the nest in the heating pad and set it on low (I thought) before leaving the room to work on laundry. A couple hours later I returned to the nest to discover that the heating pad was not on low but on high. I apparently hard boiled the orphaned eggs.

So, what is the lesson in all of this? Leave nature be? Natural selection is real? Dogs will be dogs? The best intentions?

How about "Chaos is the norm at the Geier household!"

I read banned books but I am unable to consign them...

I'm a fan of nostalgia. I enjoy the silly emails "You know you are a child of the 80's if..." and have watched VH1's "I love the [insert decade]." I am jealous of my friends Rhonda, Lex, & Danielle for attending not one, but 2 NKOTB reunion concerts! I loved my friend Moe's college picture posts.

I also LOVE to read. I always have a book in my purse and a pile of books "on deck." Perhaps this is why I jumped on the suggestion to read "Everything I know about being a girl I learned from Judy Blume." I nestled into the couch on a rainy Sunday thrilled to be reminded of books from my childhood. However, what I found was essay after essay about a Blume book I did not remember. "Forever?" I promptly put the other book aside until I could locate a copy and digest "Forever." For those of you unaware of the book, it is Judy Blume's sex book. She ignored the G-rated norm and wrote about high school students discovering their bodies and experimenting with sex. This is one of the two books (the other being "Deenie") that led to Judy Blume being one of the most banned authors. I honestly expected the book to be more graphic, more raunchy, and less socially responsible than it was. (We'll save this particular soap box for another blog.)

ANYWAY, fastforward another couple of weeks. I took a pile of books into a local used bookstore to consign. Upon checking out the clerk said, "Ma'am, I will accept the other books but I WILL not take this book." She slapped my copy of "Forever" on the counter. She then proceeded to tell me that there were words in the book she did not feel were appropriate for children and that she had actually written the author when the book was first published. (Nevermind the fact that the main character insists on using protection and even makes herself an appointment at Planned Parenthood. A responsible move??) She also said, "We do not sell this type book in my store." At that moment, the other customers looked up, probably curious about the smut I was trying to sell. She finished my order and then placed "Forever" (the 100 page book) in a brown sack. I had to laugh as I walked out with my banned book past the aisles of romance novels. Irony?

I have laughed and laughed about the exchange. I've had suggestions from friends about trying to consign other banned books to see the reaction. Another friend said she might go in the store and ask specifically for "Forever." I will admit that I am bothered by a bookstore that censors the content, but choose to laugh at the situation.

So, if you are interested in reading my contraband, it's at my house in a brown bag. I ought to proudly display the book in a prominant place but admit I might hide it again until Logan is older. ??

Making connections

We moved into our house a month ago. I wish I could say we had unpacked all the boxes and were fully settled. However, I'm realistic. When moving out of our house in Savannah I found things I hadn't unpacked since we lived in Arkansas. (5 years before!) I have a list a mile long of projects I want to plow through in the house but am forcing myself (and being forced by my husband) to take things in stride. The paint in the living room and extra bedroom will wait. We won't get Logan's bedroom furniture for a few months. The furniture for the hearth room has yet to be discovered. I haven't hung all of the pictures. Etc, etc, etc.

I'm feel anxious to feel at home. I think I've confused unpacking with settling in. I still feel in transition. To be honest, I think I've grown accustomed to feeling in transition. Let's face it, the Geiers have lots of experience with living until the next event. (For example, waiting to graduate, waiting to move to Virginia, waiting to move to Georgia, waiting for and then through deployment #1, pregnancy, waiting for and then through deployment #2, job searches, home selling, home buying, etc.) I wonder if this is the way all families feel? Always looking for what is around the next bend? I recognize I've grown cynical through our military days and am slowly sloughing off the old "tude" in an effort to "live in the now." (Cue my closest friends and family laughing. "Lauren not worrying about the future!? Ha ha!")

I hope we find a church home and begin making friends in the near future. As I search for a long term job and Trey continues to meet those in his network, we will become more connected. That is what I am ultimately yearning for...connection. Connection to my friends & family, connection to my home, neighborhood, & community, and connection to the present. It can come...it will come. Just around the bend.

Where is my baby boy?

Where did my baby go? This morning Logan told me he was going to sing "Elmo's Song" at school. Every evening on the way home from daycare I ask what he did during the day. He always reports that he "Sing Elmo's Song." Today he announced his plans for the day at breakfast. He then told me "Mommy cut hair. I sad. Hair cute." (Yes, his speech delay makes him sound like a caveman.) I did cut his hair last night, and he did cry. I'm so glad he thinks his hair is cute. I agree!

Each developmental milestone is amazing to witness, but I'll admit my heart aches a little too. I miss my little (ok, Logan was never little, but you get the picture) baby. I miss picking him up out of the crib and holding him over my shoulder. I miss the uninterrupted eye contact during feedings. I miss bouncing him on my knee while singing silly songs. I miss my baby.

But then...Logan runs to me when he bumps his head. He asks "Mommy hold up?" and I pick him up. He builds a house for his toy animals out of blocks. He finds the letter 'O' on a menu. Logan sings "Kinkle, Kinkle, Lil' Tar" into his toy microphone. Logan asks me to lie next to him in his bed and read a book.

Ok, the toddler stuff is incredible too. He is still mommy's baby boy.

Lauren's Diary

When I was little I was given a diary with a little gold lock and key. As most girl's my age, I was excited. I had images of my diary becoming my best friend and confidant. In my fantasy world, my diary would someday be discovered and ranked with Anne Frank or Margaret from the Judy Blume book. I wrote a flowery description of some event that was of great importance in my elementary school world. Two days later, I again wrote an entry beginning with an apology to the diary (I was very polite to random objects.) for skipping a day. Two months later, I wrote about having bronchitis and was worried that I was dying. (I was also highly dramatic...a characteristic that continues to emerge.) Several pages were skipped before another entry was made...2 years later! The last entry was inspired by a Brady Bunch episode where Jan is upset that Marsha keeps reading her diary. She writes silly lies in the diary to trick her siblings. I wrote that the President was coming to visit David. I was apparently under a false pretense that David actually cared about what was written in my diary. I'm sure he was in the backyard climbing on roofs and "catching" dead snakes. (a story for another day)

And so here we are, repeating the trend with my blog. I last wrote in October. I'll chuckle at my absence and make another apology & promise that I will write regularly. The reality is that I might possibly skip months at a time more often than making daily entries. I'm ok with this. My life isn't nearly as interesting as Anne Frank or Margaret. I accept this fact and am ready to move on.

Ok, so here's the update in a nutshell since the last entry. Trey went to his hiring conference and left with two job offers. (Milwaukee & Florida) In the meantime, we sold the house. Logan, Mojo, and I moved to Arkansas with my parents while Trey crashed with a friend in Savannah. Trey finished his days with the Army and joined us in Conway. My poor parents begrudgingly tolerated our messes, Mojo's "accidents", and Logan's fits for several weeks. On the job front, neither offer felt like a good fit for our family. So after several meltdowns (mine, not his) and conferences with friends, Trey decided to apply to Edward Jones Investments. He was hired pending his taking (and passing) the series 7 test. We began making day trips to the Memphis area to look for houses. After looking at 375 houses (possibly a slight exaggeration) we found an incredible house in the Bartlett area. When I say incredible, I am not exaggerating! The house is huge and has a pool! We have definitely benefited from the broken housing market. I interviewed and accepted a job with a mental health center in Memphis to provide counseling services in the Shelby County Schools. The job is grant-based and will end in May which makes me nervous. We have since moved into our house (after 2 weeks living in the local Navy Lodge and commuting back to Conway on the weekends) and are starting to reduce the number of boxes in the house.

Trey passed his big test Monday, March 3 and we have been jumping for joy since! (The irony is that he passed the test the day the stock market plummeted but we are confident things will turn around soon...??)

We are blessed to be employed and have a great house. Life will feel more settled when we find a local church and start making friends in the area. (Finding a good babysitter is also a high priority!) Logan is enjoying his school and seems to be learning something new every 5 minutes. We are excited to be close to friends and family again...although still missing the Savannah area and our Georgia friends.

I'm thrilled to be able to make weekend trips to Arky to go consignment sale shopping, attend Michelle's graduation, meet Mini Ryken, and attend UCA events. Our best Savannah friends (& my long lost sista-friend) the Onks are only 4 hours away! We learned our friend Wes and his wife will be moving to the Memphis area this summer. Trey already has Wes' social calendar filled...poor Wes!? :) Life is great!

We are ready for company!!!