Celebrating

I absolutely love my birthday. I look forward to it each year. When I was a little younger I used to have an exact countdown from the first of the year to my birthday and would (honestly) tell everybody I talked to how many days away it was. Mind you that wasn't all that long ago. Since then I have mellowed in my approach realizing that most people probably don't really want to know when there are 87 days to my birthday. I'm not quite sure what exactly it is that I so love about my birthday. It isn't really about me getting older because - let's face it there aren't exactly any new rites of passage with age for me anymore. I don't think that it's really about the presents or the cake - although those are always so much fun and much appreciated (okay it might be a little about the cake...) I think what I really love about my birthday is that it is my special day to celebrate me. For twenty four hours I get to revel in the fact that (in my mind anyway) everything is honoring my existence, my contribution to life. I think that in some way I really let myself appreciate all that I am and manage to do and how important I am. It's something that can be easy to forget in the insanely busy life of moving here, fixing that, going to this and making sure I get all my school work done on top of everything else. So I love the chance to sit back and really see how much what I do matters.

This year was wonderful. It ended up being a really nice birthday. I missed Mycal and it would have been more fun if I'd been able to do something with him too, but as it was I had a completely enjoyable birthday doing things I love to do with people I enjoy being around. The elements favored me so it was a gorgeous day. Grandpa watched Emmuska and Liberty was extraordinarily bright and happy. It was a wonderful day and it felt like almost everyone and everything was celebrating it with me.

Professional Movers

I don't think there is anyway I can go back to the person I was Thursday night.

Since we are going to Missouri for a few months before we move on to our final base we needed to have the Army move us so they could keep our stuff in one of their storage facilities rather than us going to MO then trying to come back and move all our stuff. In the past the only way we have moved is on our own. We take care of everything, with help from friends and family of course. Yet no matter how many people are there to help us I am still busy doing everything that has to be done right beside them. I'm almost always the last person out of the house after making sure that everything has been picked up and adequately cleaned.

The point of all that being that that is how I used to be - on moving day I work my backside off trying to take care of the kids, organize anybody helping out and taking care of packing something as well. Busy, chaotic and a tiring. And until last Thursday night I just thought that that is just how life is. Then came Friday morning. The movers showed up and in approximately 50 min. had packed up everything we had at my parents house and were ready to move on to the storage unit. It took them a little longer because there was tons more stuff and they had to unpack and then repack it all but it was still done really fast. Less than five hours after showing up they were done - I was done. I said goodbye to my belongings not to be seen for another five months and breathed a huge sigh of relief. It was amazing. I don't think that I will ever be able to move myself again. Granted at first I felt a little awkward just standing around telling others what to do and not doing a thing myself but that is the way it had to be - I wasn't allowed to pack a box or go near the truck. It might take a little getting used to but I'm sure it won't take me too long.

One More Paper

Well I only have one more paper for anthropology. Well that and another test but we all know how I feel about those so...basically one more paper and I'm done with this class. Now I really need to focus on my mountaineering literature class. I'm one paper behind (okay not yet but I will be tomorrow as I'm not going to get it finished tonight) with a total of four more to do. I was looking ahead at my anthropology paper options and am thinking that as much as it will not help me with English it will best if I do the next one (due in one week) because all the rest of my options will not be at all fun or easy to write about. So here is to cramming in another paper and getting caught up in English.
And by the way - sorry if this paper is horribly jumbled as I'm not sure how well my brain is working anymore. I've been slinging around words trying to figure out how to possibly make a two page paper five for the last seven hours - words have become putty in my head...all goopey and stuff. So sorry if this is incomprehensible.

Genetic Anomaly

I think that I might be a genetic anomaly. To any of my many (tee hee) loyal readers if you didn't read the post entitled "Cookies" left maybe a week ago than this will make much more sense if you go and read that first. If like me you suffer from severe and frequent memory loss than go back and read it again. After reading that I discovered that Emmuska does essentially the same thing - only she feeds the top part to the dogs (rather she just throws them on the floor then the dogs eat them). This got me thinking - why would they voluntarily give up half of a cookie? They pretty much live for any sweet treat. That got me thinking about my life growing up - in my childhood years the prevailing feeling was that the whole reason for the chocolate cookies of the Oreo was to supply the stuffing with a place to sit. After Double Stuf Oreos hit the market I don't think my parents house saw another package of the regular kind unless some weird outsider unknowingly brought it in. Fast forward a few years to me as an adult in my own home. One day I got a craving for Oreos and milk so I went to the grocery store and picked up the pink package that I always grew up with. It was okay but I realized that there was just too much stuffing for the amount of cookie. After that point I only bought the regular good old fashioned (single stuf...?) Oreos. So as I reflect on the cookie preferences of my family - both the one I grew up in and the one I'm raising I come to the somewhat obvious conclusion that I am probably an anomaly.

Parenting First

So I recently experienced a first in my parenting life. I'm Not saying I don't experience a whole lot of first still just that they are becoming less frequent. That is until the other day. Emmuska was playing with some buttons-which she does actually quite frequently generally without mishap. I was working on something else when she comes up to me crying and telling me her nose hurts because the button was too high. Yes she had stuck a button (2 maybe) up her nose. As I sat there (amazingly calm) trying to think what I should do if I can't get the button out I kind of marveled that it had taken us 3 and a half years to get to this point. I told her to blow her nose-and stopped her from trying to dig it out and pretty soon the button fell out of her nose. All's well that ends well right? The thing that really made me happy was how well I kept my cool. Maybe I'll make it as a parent yet!

Cookies

Emmuska has been staying with Grandma and Grandpa for that last day so Liberty has taken full advantage of being in the unfought for limelight. It's always so much fun to see Liberty on her own as she does some of the most hilarious things when she isn't battling a big sister on any of a number of fronts. So today we were having a little snack of Oreo's and milk - Liberty was wandering around while I was talking to Mycal. I wasn't really paying attention but I noticed that whenever I gave her a cookie she went over to the trash can, did something then came back with at least a portion of her cookie that she was apparently eating. It didn't take me too many trips to the trash can before I realized that she was throwing away the top half of her cookie and eating the filling and bottom half. When I asked if this was indeed what she was doing she confirmed with the whole body nod. At which point I informed her that she didn't have to throw them away because I would happily eat them for her. Upon receiving such information she seemed to process it and there after did give me the parts she didn't want, but did so in such a manner as to say - 'If that's what you want to do silly lady but really I think my way was better'
Children are great.

Rats!

Yeah I know you all thought you were safe but here they are again. I'm thinking it's just a plot put together by some huge rat coalition - working to improve their status one family at a time by keeping themselves at the forefront of that family's mind. Here is our current rat story.

Last night I had to go to an Enrichment Activity while Liberty was still taking her nap so I left her in the oh-so-capable, always loving and much appreciated care of my little sister Bonnie (I hope that shameless flattery keeps you wanting to watch my children on short notice...). Apparently shortly after I left Liberty woke up and started wondering around the house. Bonnie told me that she found her downstairs staring at the place where the rats used to be and crying. Bonnie was a little perplexed and asked what was wrong to which Liberty pointed at the spot and continued crying, then she pointed to all the rat stuff, bedding, food, water bottle etc. Bonnie in a moment of insight asked "Do you want to see the rats?" to which Libster did her whole body nod. Bonnie felt quite heart-broken at the sight and offering condolences to the distraught little girl offered that maybe Liberty and I could go buy new ones later, to which Liberty perked up and went in search of something. Turns out that something was Emmuska's piggy bank, which she kept with her until I came home.

When Bonnie told me this story I couldn't stop laughing. Thankfully Liberty did not drag me to the door in hot pursuit of new rats - and just maybe we will make it to Missouri without them - though I was hoping to save any rat purchases for our final destination...

Liberating

So I took my second Anthropology test today. After not doing so well on the first test I decided to put some effort into this one and study all the chapters being covered. I didn't get to study as much as I would have liked but still put a lot more energy and time into making sure I knew the material so I could do well this time. Well after about a month of effort I walk into the testing center feeling more confident in my ability to get a decent grade on the test. I sit down and start reading the questions only to discover everything I've read doesn't really seem to fit with the answers given or that the answer is just beyond my ability to recall - you know that horrible feeling when you know you know something but you can't quite grasp it. Yes many answers were stuck in that region of my mind. So I finish the test and find that I did better by only 3 questions. 3 questions! I don't know about the rest of you but where three questions only equals six points it hardly seemed worth the extra effort I had put into actually studying this time. After reviewing the questions I had missed I felt even more discouraged as they were rarely the ones I was completely guessing on - they were ones I had studied and had either (apparently) misinterpreted the meaning of the text or those few pesky ones where the odd words unique to a particular study (anthropology in this case) get all muddled because they are (a) hard to pronounce (b) all look the same and (c) weird. Anyhow not doing so well on this test was actually liberating for me because now I'm thinking I just won't bother trying as hard - I'll just skim some chapter reviews, read definitions and guess my way through the next test. (How disillusioned do I sound right now...)

Happy Birthday to Me!

So Mycal ordered my birthday present and had it sent to me because the shipping was supposed to take 3 weeks to get here. In typical UPS fashion it only took 3 days so it arrived to me today. After much back and forth I decided to open it early and was surprised with a wacom tablet. I am 80 excited! ran not wait to get better with it. It is so much fun! I've written this entire post by pen and am getting better at writing. The handwriting on the screen is resembling mine the more I practice. I can't wait to get better at this and use it more in Photoshop. No doubt about it I have the best husband ever.

Green Grass and Robin Redbreast

Yay for beautiful days! It was unbelievably beautiful yesterday - a glorious 65 and sunny, if a bit windy. The girls and I had a great time going for a walk and spending time outside. It is so nice to be able to enjoy the outdoors again. (Without all the extra wear that is...) Whilst outside we spied two robins - I was so excited. Usually because if it's not gloriously warm I won't really stay outside long enough to see the first robin of the year - but this year I was and I did. It just seemed like a really good omen to me. In fact it made me so happy that I decided I could pitch into the effort of making the world more ready for spring. So I grabbed a rake and started raking the yard. I love how raking seems to magically make green grass appear. It's like magic - where everything is dull and brown before there suddenly springs up little shoots of green. Of course the green is always there it's just hidden under the layers left on it by winter but still it's one of my favorite things to do in beautiful weather - bring out the green!