If Ever There Were a Day to Write a Post Here...

...Mother's Day would be it.

The perpetual tweet-and-flutter of Twitter keeps drawing me away from my own little blog. I love its brevity and terseness and emphemerality. Quickness and cleverness are assets there in a way they are not on a blog.

but

I feel compelled.

Last week, Zeke made his First Holy Communion. He was surrounded by family and was amid almost 100 other children dressed in suits and white dresses with veils. I even broke out the shapewear [Oh, MY! what did we ever do before Spanx?] and wore the same outfit I wore when he was baptized. It was sublime and joyful. Happy tears filled my eyes. I know his life will never be the same and that is a good thing.

Yesterday, he turned 8 [and made his 2nd Holy Communion!] and I wonder where that almost-decade has gone. In this little time, eight voyages around the sun, much has changed. My man has become a Catholic and I can hardly remember the longing I had when I journeyed toward the altar alone for Communion. Motherhood has filled the nooks-and-crannies of a life and I can hardly remember the longing I had during those years of presumed infertility.

Longings almost forgotten. Ah! That's what this blog is for.

Nineteen Years; One Regret [UPDATED with Photos]

It's a gorgeous autumn day in the south just like it was nineteen years ago today when I married my Officer and Gentleman in a military wedding at the Main Post Chapel at Fort Benning, Georgia. Ten fellow officers served as the Gentlemen of the Saber Arch. Our friend, George, then a first lieutenant and now a retiree, officially welcomed me to the Infantry as he ceremoniously swatted my bottom with his saber. The tradition is to say, "Welcome to the Army, Mrs. X." At that time, I outranked him and told him that I was already welcomed into the Army as my leave and earnings statements regularly proved. I also cautioned him that as a recent graduate of the U.S. Army Airborne School, I was also welcomed there as my Basic Parachutist's Badge proved. I warned him that, mess dress uniform or no, I would have no hesitation dropping him for push-ups if he violated my bridezilla edict.

He surprised me by saying, "Welcome to the Infantry, Mrs. Adams." There's a picture somewhere in the album of me laughing in surprise

and Dave smiling at me with a knowing look.

Duplicate that picture innumerable times over nineteen years. I'm often surprised and he's often smiling at my ability to be surprised.

I wouldn't change anything, really, about our married life together. There have been many challenges, some of which have been documented on this little blog, and many others that pre-dated blogging. And there are some which remain known unto us alone. Every marriage is a mystery, known only to its members.

I believe the one regret I have is in my faults--what I've done and what I've failed to do--in being more holy, more loving, and more loveable to the best man I've ever known. The only man who ever walked the earth who surpasses my man would be good St. Joseph. I have the extreme privilege of being married to a fun, funny, content & holy man who is a wonderful provider, father, beloved and friend. I was so happy on our wedding day that no tears fell from my eyes; I took it as a pre-figurement of Paradise. And every day since, I've had the privilege of living out what happily-ever-after means.

UPDATE: I dug and found the photos. My brother, a groomsman, took them back when he was a photojournalist and before he began his wedding photography work. All of them are copyright Paul F. Gero, all rights reserved.

Thanks go to Dave for scanning them. Natch.

Found Object -- Lost 8-26-2005

My husband has retina-searing red hair. His father is the 8th redheaded child of two redheaded parents. My man was the only of 35 grandchildren to keep red hair past childhood. My poor father-in-law's nickname is "Red" and he takes off his hat to explain why, but now it's just snowy white. Our three children all have daddy's red hair. [Believe me, that went a long way with the old man].

When my husband was in the Army, the Australian officers called him "Blue". Apparently that's funny to the Aussies... redheads are nicknamed "Blue" there. All his hispanic employees call him "Rojopelo". It's what every culture notices.

Red hair is so beautifully distinctive when natural [in all its variations from dark auburn to blaze orange] and so obvious when phoney. I think that's because other things like freckles and red eyelashes are part of the set.

"We are officially out of computers."

Thus spaketh my beloved husband this morning. Zeke's playing a game downstairs, Mary Jo is on the laptop computer in Zeke's room, Annie is on the laptop computer at the kitchen table, I'm on my laptop while watching my talking heads shows. Dave seeks solace in his iPhone. Thank goodness his office cast off a couple laptops our way when they switched to Apple.

Charge!

Tomorrow morning, I'm leaving for a quick 24-hour get-away. I'm making a women's retreat sponsored by my ladies' church group. The retreat director is a priest who was my spiritual director for many years and is the best Confessor I've known. It's gray and cold and January and I am in need of some light and warmth and eternalness. I am quite grateful for Dave taking on the whole task of kid-care as he did a couple weekends ago while I went out of town overnight for a wedding. So that means I not only owe him, but I really owe him.

So what else is new?

Double Date Nights

Dave and I had two Christmas parties to attend this weekend, necessitating two different baby-sitters to cover for us at home. The first party at the home of a couple from church/Marriage Encounter, is one we've attended for several years now. I told the hostess that it's one of those events that tells me, "Okay, now it's really Christmas." They provide abundant beverages and main dishes and they ask everyone to bring an appetizer, salad or dessert. I had a holiday-manic mood and I took the girls to the store with four recipes in hand and wound up making and taking all four things to the party. We got to touch base with friends we haven't seen in months and it surprised us that midnight rolled around so quickly.

Last night we attended a new-to-us party: Dave's Fourth Degree Christmas party. Dave looked handsome as can be in his evening wear and I got to wear a new frock. The food was good and the company was even better. I got to dance with Dave and he serenaded me along with The King and The Righteous Bros. We are the only couple in this group who had to leave to take the sitter home and we are the youngest, too. We've been officially squares for a long time and this just reinforces that we like squareness.

Felonious Spunk - Part II

The kiddy bedtime routine was disrupted tonight when Dave's business partner called to tell him that their office was broken into tonight. Dave went to the office and was met by the local constabulary and his partner. They discovered broken glass, things tampered with, and things missing. He's off now to get some plywood to board up the window for the night. It's been a good long while since my robbery, but it hasn't been so long as to forget.

There was an eye witness who called the police while the robbery was in progress. The witness got a description of them from a somewhat safe vantage point. No one got physically hurt. But I think when the concept of 'personal property' is violently violated, we as a culture are indeed hurt. Pissed off at least.

Happy Birthday, David

Today is Dave's birthday. He's lucky it falls on a Saturday. I have the gifts purchased and wrapped, the cake on order, the sitter lined up and a couple surprise guests at dinner. And, of course, I'm certain that he won't read this before the day unfolds.

Or, if he does, he's much better than me at keeping a secret.

Old Enough to Vote

We celebrate our 18th wedding anniversary today Chez Adams. It feels like we've been married a long time by length of years [now legal to vote!], but I still feel like a newlywed. That has to be partly because our oldest child is only 6 years old and time in our marriage from year 12 to today has been measured by baby and toddler and preschool measures. And the difference from 12 to 18 seems immense!

And yet, I'm hoping for another 18 or 36 or more years with my beloved. He, now graying slightly at the temples of his otherwise flame-red-head, is crinkling a little at the eyes but is even more beautiful in my eyes. He is the embodiment of manliness to me. My heart still skips a beat when I watch him with the power tools or the sidearms or snuggling with the children. He is the real deal. In October 1990, I suspected I was marrying a good man. I just didn't know that this great good man would inspire me to become so much more as a woman by his example.

Thank you, God, for the gift of my beloved.

Beachy WiFi Joy

We loaded up [too?] much of our belongings and set a personal best land speed record on our way to the beach today. Three adults, three children, zero stops. Dave recalled his best First-Lieutenant-with-a-map skills and found the fastest, shortest way to the ocean. Geez, I love that man.

We're in our little four bedroom cottage for a week. Mom and I did the shopping and the kids are getting jammied for their bedtime. The greatest update is this: free WiFi in every cottage. Now if I can start losing track of time, we'll know that it's officially vacation.

The Happily-Ever-After Tour

I'm a little giddy with excitement and overwhelmed by the numerous details of our upcoming short jaunt to Georgia. My nephew is graduating from his infantry basic course at Fort Benning this week. We are going to celebrate his milestone and to reminisce about the place where it all began for our family.

The last time we were there was eighteen years ago. We were wed at the Infantry Center Chapel, right across from my JAG office, on a glorious October afternoon. There were 10 gentlemen in our sabre arch and our friend George cavalierly swatted my bottom with, "Welcome to the Infantry, Mrs. Adams!" I outranked him and had informed him that if he said Welcome to the Army or even Welcome to the Airborne that I would turn and drop him for push-ups, mess dress be damned.

My nephew, still known to us as 'Little Dave,' was wearing short pants and diapers on that day. It seems entirely fitting that we take our wee ones to see their big cousin as he embarks on something really big. He plans to go to Afghanistan soon.

Overcoming Blechhhh

I haven't posted in a little while for no real reason except that I really didn't have much to report and I liked the graphic of the flag waving atop my blog. I almost posted something on Friday about birds. Zeke had a small injury on his middle finger and he kept trying to show me his band-aid. I had to carefully explain that his gesture was impolite. The kids know the 'we-don't-say-shut-up-in-this-family' rule [we say 'be quiet' or 'hush up'] and I made an analogy to that. We sat at the table and I went to a good first place: wikipedia, where we learned that the gesture originated in ancient Rome and the middle finger is called the digitus impudicus. The article referred to a Warner Brothers' cartoon, so we hopped onto YouTube and checked out "A Tale of Two Kitties," which is the first ever appearance of Tweetie Bird and it had two cats in the likeness of Abbott and Costello. It was made in 1942 and is chock-full of World War II references. Well, see for yourself. The 'bird' reference is at the 2:05 mark.



I got engrossed in a couple comment threads elsewhere and I realized I probably needed to go on a blog diet. When one has a challenge with overeating, there's no long-term abstinence solution; one must learn moderation. I think my blogging [or more especially, my commenting elsewhere] needed a little moderation or else I'd be overtaken with apathy or antipathy.

Dave and I had a date night on Saturday and the kids did well with a new sitter. Dave's taken to being Catholic like a duck to water. He's already a Third Degree Knight of Columbus and was just selected to serve as a member of the Parish Pastoral Council. He's been so supportive of me and all my churchy things for so many years that I am just trying to reciprocate in any way he wishes. I marvel often at the work of the Holy Spirit in my man's life. He really is a great and good man and he's destined for sainthood.

Which brings me to today and the ongoing case of the blechhs. I made a decision today to get up and walk while Dave was doing his workout at the YMCA. The whole day started earlier and went much better. We even accomplished a couple math lessons and had a really good day. There's an adage 'action cures fear' but it also helps in cases of blechhh.

Date Night and Family Fun Outing: Bon Voyage

We are making the most of the last couple months with our babysitter, who has warned us that he's done at the end of May. We had a date night with 6 members of Dave's family at our local restaurant/sports-friendly bar. Our nephew, known still and ridiculously as "Little Dave" is joining the U.S. Army. He will report to Fort Benning for Infantry Basic, A.I.T., Airborne and, God willing, Ranger School. He wants to be part of something bigger than himself, serve his country, find himself, and wield weapons. Lucky him. This one job adventure fits the bill.

Godspeed, Little Dave.

Happy Easter!

We spent Saturday evening at church. David was among many welcomed into the Church. He made his profession of faith, was anointed [confirmed] and made his First Holy Communion. He's asleep now and the holy smell of the crism on his forehead wafts my way and fills me with immense joy.

Small Signs

It's traditional for Catholics to make the 'small sign of the cross' when the Gospel reading is announced. A small sign of the cross is made with one's right thumb, tracing a small cross on one's forehead, then lips, then heart. One is to think something like: Lord, open my mind to your teaching, my lips to proclaim the Good News and my heart to welcome you. Today was the first time I ever saw my husband make this sign. The RCIA class is working and his Catholic self is emerging. I noticed the small signs.

Good for the Soul

David is on retreat all day with his RCIA class of "The Elect." He will be making his first confession. This is the first Sacrament that's purely Catholic that he will have. He's benefitted from Baptism and Matrimony and has even been anointed. But this is a special day. This is the day he gets to hear Christ in the confessional and fully experience absolution. I pray for him today in his absence, that he make a good confession.

Mirthful Things

~I had Zeke read a Christmas card today. It mentioned the gifts of the wise men, which he rendered gold, frankincense and mirth.

~I have noticed that no matter how I move the computers around, my cleaning lady just will not touch them. She seemingly refuses to work her magic on them. I guess she just doesn't do Windows.

~Today at work, I printed out a document. On the cover sheet, it had 'date: 3/3/2008, time: 3:33:33 PM.' [I see the number eight is just a 3 looking in the mirror. ] I thought that was a shout out from the Big Guy to me. He catches my attention in the merest ways.

~This weekend, after years of yard blah-ness, a garden was planted in our yard. It is beautiful and extremely low maintenance. The fellow we hired to do the green thumb thing took a lot of pride in his work, evidenced by the dozen or so pals of his who came to see the work. Dave and I are nearly finished with our improvements on the cozy house. Is it time to move now? I told Dave that it's the most beautiful bouquet he's ever bought me.

Family Fun Outing: Landscaping and Lunch

We're nearly complete making all the major improvements on the inside, so Dave is getting his wish and we're redoing the outside. We have hired a landscaper to re-vision our whole outside, front, back and side. We met him today at the greenhouse to select plants, shrubs and trees. He'll start in two weeks and we're excited as all getout to have a green make-over.

The kids did well with the greenhouse and we had a great lunch at Chik-fil-a. A great, quiet, lovely day together, topped off with my very own visit to the Confessional. Absolution, yay!

The Gift That Kept On Giving

Tonight I finally used up my Valentine's gift from last year. Dave gave me a year's worth of massages and today I had my last one. This time, I hushed enough to actually enjoy it [very difficult when you have an interesting massage therapist who has come to know you] and it makes all the difference.

Are You Too Hoo-ah?

The Army word "hoo-ah" is much like the word "aloha": many meanings, depending upon usage and inflection. Generally, it means squared-away, hard-charging, well-performing soldier. But how does one know if one is too hoo-ah?

You might be too hoo-ah if:
~You go to a barbecue and insist that your family feed tactically.
~Your children clear housing before they go to college.
~You give the command "Fix Bayonets" at Thanksgiving Dinner.
~You make your daughter sign out on pass on Prom Night.
~Your kindergartner calls recess "smoke break."
~Your wife "takes a knee" in long checkout lines at the Food Lion.
~Your newborn's first words were "all OK Jumpmaster."
~Your daughter's dolls wear starched uniforms.

And then, some might believe that one can never be too hoo-ah.

Beret tip and a salute: Mr. Charming [formerly Captain Charming]