BoyBoy starts school on Tuesday. Last night was back to school night where kids and families get to go check out their classrooms, meet their teacher, and be bombarded with PTA stuff. I am always nervous for BoyBoy when he starts the new school year and especially nervous when he is changing schools. Will he make friends? Will he get lost going to the bathroom? Will he like his PE teacher? At his last school, he was president of the student council and when he walked through the halls, kindergardeners were awestruck, reduced to whispering and pointing. He was the BMOC. Now, he is back to being the new kid and I hate that for him. I know that he will be fine because he has his father's outgoing personality which serves him well in this military life. I don't think I would have fared as well if my father had been in the military. He will make friends and enjoy this year and then we have to go through it all over again next year for middle school. At least some of the kids will be moving to the same school with him and, the best part, he will be in the same school as his cousins.
So, what do we do to celebrate this last weekend of summer and new beginning? We will probably go ride roller coasters, eat seafood, and overall just relax and enjoy the weekend. We have spent most of the weekends this summer working on the new house and yard. We need to take a break from that and reflect on our journey this summer. Bumps in the road have been there but have been mild. The glories of living near my family are multiplying every day. We have been given our space when we need it and smothered with family when we don't and it has been great. Have I mentioned that it just feels right?
Happy school year to everyone! May you bring home A's and B's, new friends and old. May your days be filled with learning and growing and not too much homework!
On this day, forty seven years ago, a somewhat geeky young engineer married a beautiful, skinny girl of only 19. They said "I do" in a small un-air conditioned church in a small town in Virginia. They began their life, as most couples do, with one of them still in school and through those first years, built on the strong foundation of love and a small double bed. Their home was quaint and kept warm by a wood stove. The first Thanksgiving of their marriage, their turkey was put on the hearth to defrost and in the morning, one side was cooked and the other was still frozen. It didn't matter. They loved each other and that was all that mattered. Now almost 50 years, two daughters, and three grandchildren later they still hold hands and write each other love notes. They are an inspiration to us all to enjoy the good times, persevere through the difficult times and love each other every day.
Okay, so we have been in our house for a little over a month. The first week was taken up with painting and refinishing floors. Our stuff arrived the second week. So that leaves us with two weeks of unpacking and rearranging. Bubba said last night that he was finally able to sit down on the sofa and feel like he could relax. There weren't any boxes begging to be unpacked, no pictures needing to be hung; the furniture was where it needed to be and there is only one room that has "junk" in it that still needs to be put away. This move is almost complete! Of course, there are still a thousand things we want to do and we have to keep reminding ourselves that we have the rest of our lives to get them done. We have to break out of the military mindset of "get it done now because you might not be living here in a year." Easier said than done.
I know that we are starting to feel like this is home because we had a period of time on Sunday that we fell into our old routine of each of us on our computers in three different rooms. The boys were playing a head-to-head match of some world domination game and I was catching up on my blog reading and internet surfing. Life was back to normal. We have had so much "together time" in the last few weeks it was nice to get into our own space for a time and chill. I think that I am slowly getting into my routine and in two weeks when school starts I think I will be totally there.
I am soooo excited for the Olympics to start! I don't know whether it is the pomp and circumstance, the lump in my throat every time the National Anthem is played, or the secret envy of all those athletically inclined humans. I was althletically challenged as a child - too long legs, back surgery, and asthma (that wasn't diagnosed until I was an adult). I was a mess when it came to the President's Physical Fitness Test. So, every four years I get to live vicariously through the mighty Olympians. I will watch from opening ceremonies to closing, every medal stand, each swimming heat. This time I am also intrigued by the location. Beijing is such a mystery to the western world and I can't wait to see NBC's coverage of China.
There is always a period of adjustment whenever you move...getting to know the area, meeting new people, finding the fastest route to Target. I usually enjoy this time because it is a time of relative anonymity. No one knows you yet and everything is strange and new and exciting. The longer we live this military life the less I have enjoyed those "getting to know you" times. If I couldn't remember General Whachamajigger's wife's name, I worked hard to come up with some catchy word association so that the next time I saw her I remembered her name rhymed with salmonella...Carmella? And that is what it became - work. It was hard work. The older my brain became and the more filled with names from previous places the harder it was to remember the names I should have remembered. Bubba was always great about introducing again..."You remember Mrs. Salmonella Whachamajigger, don't you, Wheezer?" I am always thankful for name tapes on uniforms, but they (and usually Bubba) aren't there when I run into someone at the commissary or the PX or, Heaven forbid under the dryer at the beauty salon. My old and feeble brain was tired of remembering all that stuff....
It is all different here. We are back in my hometown, in a home two blocks from my sister's home. BoyBoy has walked over to her house a million times (and I am NOT exaggerating) since we moved in here. This past weekend we were collapsed on the sofa after a long day of hanging blinds, unpacking boxes, moving furniture and all that other stuff when there was a rap on the window. BoyBoy said, "It's Cousie! Wait, its Cousie, Aunt S, & Uncle C!, Wait, it's everybody!!!" They had ridden their bikes with their neighbors to get ice cream and stopped by on the way home. How cool is that? How many times in this military life do we get to live that close to our relatives? (Whether we want to or not is another post for another day) As we all sat around our living room talking over the kids, I looked over to see my sister with her hand on the pregnant belly of her neighbor, my nephew talking about sports with Bubba and BoyBoy and my niece talking about the camp that she is going to this week. A warm glow came over me. This is why we are here. This is why we moved all those other times. This is why Germany the second time was so worth it. We deserve this and it just feels right.
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