Hair today, gone tomorrow (pun intended)...

Today was a good full day. Enjoyed having the in laws over for lunch, loved watching a childhood friend baptize his daughter then going back to their house and hanging out with a big group of people who I have known my whole life, got the kids to bed w out any struggle, finished watching "Leap Year" then decided to check my e-mail. The first e-mail I opened was so unnerving that I don't think I will be getting to the rest tonight. My love sent a pic of himself sporting VERY short hair and I don't know if it was the lingering romanic feelings from the movie or seeing Jon in a shirt I didn't recognize, in a room that I have never seen, or realizing that he looks different then he did 2 weeks ago, but he has never felt so far away from me as he does right now. I feel homesick for him. Is that weird, to feel homesick for a person? I haven't seen or touched him in 2 weeks and it feels so unnatural. We have been lucky that we were able to communicate as much as we did this last week, texting as his schedule allowed, and talking when we are able to, but man, I MISS him. I enlarged his picture and just stared at it for a bit.  Giving myself permission to cry a little now. I have been really disciplined so far. I don't let myself think to long about the fact that he is across the country, instead, I pretend that he is having a long day at work or is just gone for the weekend at a pharmacy convention. I don't allow myself to acknowledge that little ache of longing for him that hums about in the background of my days and nights and when the ache threatens to come to the fore front, I actively distract myself by being busy mentally and physically. But tonight, I am going to allow it, in fact, I am going to indulge it. I am going to let myself think of all the little things I miss about him; his laughter and playfulness filling our home, the way that he always treats me with kindness and is so quick with a compliment, the feeling of absolute peace that I find when I am held by him, but mostly, I am going to think about his hair. I am going to think about the way it stubbornly refuses to be parted anyway but one. I am going to remember the countless hours that I have spent idly running my finger through it as we watch TV or as we are laying to together talking. And just to really do myself in, I am going to go up stairs and bury my face in his pillow and hope that it still smells like him, because I love the way his head smells. Kind of mixture of his shampoo, styling products, and his own natural scent. So tonight I am going to cry and ache and long for my husband, I am going to be overwhelmed by the number of days that are stretched out in front of me until he comes home, and I am going to let every sadness wash over me, but in the morning, I am going to pretend, and get busy, and have another good full day. 

It only takes one careless moment....

I didn't want to write this blog post. It has been nagging at me all day to the point that I got out of bed at 12:24am to finally quiet that voice of persuasion in my head. 

Today was like any other. There was a house full of children all running in and out playing in the water in the back yard, riding scooters in the front, sword fighting and wrestling around the play room, and me running around keeping everyone fed and entertained while keeping the house from looking like a tornado hit it. It was almost lunch time and I shooed the 5 older kids out of the house so that I could make lunch while feeding the baby. I put Danali in her high chair, fed her some yogurt, and got out the supplies to cut her up some strawberries, her favorite fruit of all time. The whole time she was eating I was bustling around the kitchen pulling out plates, drinks, food, and utensils and she was content to just chat away with me. After a bit though, she started getting frustrated that she could see the strawberries on the counter but I hadn't gotten around to cutting them up yet. Just as I was pulling my stool up in front of her to give her my full attention one of the kids called me out side to referee a dispute so I put a few gold fish crackers on her tray and off I went.

I was out back for several minuntes and didn't give Danali a second thought. I was having fun coming up with a game for the kids to play where they rip post it notes off one another-the post it notes had different symbols representing different super powers- to gather as many super powers as possible. I was loving hearing the powers the kids wanted represented and hearing them come up with the back story for the kingdom they were defending, what would happen to those who lost their powers, and how to figure out the supreme victor in the battle for all the magical powers in their land. It was only after I remembered the I had water boiling did I dash for the house. 

When I came through the back door, I saw Nali laying face up on the floor in front of her high chair. Not making a sound, not moving, and really all I could see for one terrifying moment were her chubby little baby legs and feet. For one half of a heart beat I was frozen, afraid that if I continued into the kitchen my whole life would change. After that half a heart beat passed, I raced over to her, scooped her up, and realized immediately that she was choking. I flipped her over and thumped her back and a huge piece of strawberry popped out of her mouth.  

When it came out she just fell against me, coughed a little, whimpered, but didn't even cry much. I kept trying to pull her away so that I could examine her, find where she was injured, make sure she was breathing okay, check her pupils, but she just buried her face in my neck and trembled a little. 

I was trembling too. From the inside out. I left my baby alone in the kitchen and I didn't strap her into her high chair. At some point while I was out side, not even thinking about her, she must have crawled out of her chair and managed to get a strawberry off the counter and into her mouth before she fell to the floor. I didn't strap her in...how could I not have strapped her in? How could I have been so careless?  I KNOW that she tries to climb on top of her tray every time she is in her high chair. I know better. How is it that I walked out of my house and forgot about my baby for several minutes while she was falling and choking? My blood runs cold every time I think about what could have happened, what would have happened if I had decided to make just one more post-it note.

I checked her over from head to toe and couldn't find any bumps or scrapes. Her eyes were dilating  evenly and after I held her for quite a while, she seemed fine and ready to eat. I put her back in the high chair, strapped her in, and tried to unload the dishwasher through tears and with trembling hands. As soon as I had a moment I locked myself away in my bedroom and fell on my knees thanking Heavenly Father for the guardian angel who watched over my sweet daughter today. I will never forget that moment; the one where her baby legs lay unnaturally still upon the floor and my heart nearly stopped with terror for what might be. It makes me realize again how precariously life is balanced. We do our best, and when that isn't enough, the Lord steps in to make up for our weaknesses and in my case today, my carelessness. Like I said, today started off like any other but it is ending with me not taking for granted even one breath taken by these precious souls. I am also ending my day with a renewed determination to not let any distraction, any bout of laziness, or misplaced sense of  invincibility keep me from taking all safety precautions with my children. So to all the mommas out there, be ever vigilant. Don't cut corners when your child's well being is at stake. And to my Heavenly Father, thank you for entrusting these cherished souls to me, I promise to do my best to return them to you in one piece.  

Danali takes on the world...

We went to Island Lake a couple of weeks ago.

Danali loved the trees, looking at the ducks, and watching her brother and sister charge into the lake...from her stroller. She seemed so enthusiastic about it that I thought maybe it was time to introduce her to sand. 

It all started nicely enough. I put a towel down and she was all smiles. Curiously she reached out and touched the new substance beneath her...

....and she didn't like it...not one little bit.

"were you aware, dear mother, that this is NOT the soft springy green stuff that I am accustomed to crawling on when out of doors?"

When it became apparent that mom was going to be of no help at all she took a moment to contemplate her options....

....and being a women of action she decided to conquer the new terrain.

So she ventured out and found the the new substance did indeed have an end...

So she reached out and touched the new boarder and found it to be...

quite disdainful really...cold...not at all like the warm toy strewn porcelain haven that she associates with bodies of water larger than herself...

"Perhaps if I just stand up I will see around this most inconvenient obstacle??? Drat, damp course stuff as far as the 10 month old eye can see!"

If all else fails, eat it...that is fundamental baby logic. If you don't want it touching your hands or your feet you simply put it in your mouth.

 

"mmm...kind of a grainy texture, but all in all, not so bad. "

"I've crawled on you, stood on you, and eaten you...

that's right sand, I own you."

Summer's Finally Here!!

We kicked off summer with our first annual Welcome Summer Party  last week (we had one of these every year growing up and I wanted to continue the tradition in my family). The party's theme was "luau" and some where the tropical gods knew that we were celebrating because the day turned out beautiful. Sun was shining, children were rejecting my pulled pork and chicken salad sandwiches asking for PB&J instead (in time they will drool for my culinary skills!), luau music was playing, and of course, water games were in full swing.

We gave the kids bubble activities.   I guess we should have specified that you blow bubbles OUT not inhale the solution through the pipe, 

hilarious to watch...icky to taste. 

The thing that cracked us up is that kid after kid made the same mistake. They sucked in then ran for the house gasping for water.

Amusing all around. 

Next came the water gun fights. My husband was so kind as to make targets for the kids to shoot at, but, one kid "accidentally" squirts another, and you know how it ends. 

The next activity was punch balls. Can I tell you how much I enjoy watching kids try to hit other kids with balloons only to hit themselves in the face because the balloon is attached to a rubber band? 

   This is the brave group waiting for the water balloons they saw getting filled up all day. I told them to line up while I explained from the back deck how to play the next game. Oh, the fun I had watching them scatter a few seconds later as I unleashed the bucket of balloons I had hidden next to me. The other kids were wise to my little plan and opted to stand next to me on the deck, they knew that you stay were the balloons are at all costs. In the end it was an all out balloon war which resulted in a lot of wet children eating their ice cream sundays out side.  At that point, we figured that they were wet already so we might as well go all the way. I had them all go to the front yard and warned that dripping children were given a "no reentry" into the house but they were unfased. We set up an obstical course in the yard and they did that until it just dissolved into CJ (my little brother) spraying all the kids. They loved it. Everyone went home tired, wet, and so happy that summer is finally here. 

Thanks for filling up like 150 water balloons mommies! 

   

And thank you CJ for the 45 minuets you spend squirting a group of 15 screaming kids, to quote him, "that is every grown up's dream"!

you are God's tender mercy...

First off, THANK YOU. I am deeply touched by the out pouring of love that I have received. Thank you for the e-mails, FB comments, and phone calls. Knowing that there is a network of people out there thinking about my family and  sending us prayers or positive thoughts and words of encouragement is truly strengthening. I appreciate the advice and wise counsel that you've shared with me and it has given me a lot to think about. This blog and FB have been such a wonderful vehicle of connecting my life with the lives of people that I have known since I was a child but rarely see as well as keeping my current circle of friends in touch with one another's daily events. I love reading through people's blogs to see what is making their lives tick as well as sharing a bit of my life with those who want to bear witness to it. So thank you for being a part of this with me by reading my blog and sharing your thoughts and input as well offering glimpses into your lives through your blogs.  

When my laptop was stolen it had almost two years worth of journaling saved on it. Since I got my new laptop last week, I have been sorting through e-mails, blog posts, snippets of feelings and thoughts I wrote and saved on my husbands computer, and our home computer all in the attempt to recreate what was lost. I am so grateful that I have this blog. It has photos and antidotes about the daily perils of motherhood and I have shared where my head and heart where along the way. The thing is, while going through the posts for journal recreation, I noticed that the last time I posted something about the family was almost two months ago. I also noticed that for every two post that are published, there is a post saved as a draft. I usually write something then think that it isn't really in line with the spirit of the blog or it is too personal and keep it to myself. So I am thinking about making two blogs. Keeping this as a place to document all the little adventures and moments of daily family life to be bound together at the end of the year (like a photo album with commentary) and doing another one that is more about how I am processing the world. Should I just keep everything together and censored for a family blog format or should I separate the Bartlett Family Blog from a blog that is more my rambling observations, attempts at learning life lessons, and just documenting my internal journey? Can the two go together, or are they too conflicting in purpose? 

The really intimate feelings I have just can't be expressed properly in type. Those things go in my journal. There is something about the smell of the leather cover and the scratching of pen across thick parchment paper that adds weight to the words being written. Those words are personal and not open for public review. But I can sense a lot future blog posts that are written as I try to process what is going on around me and inside of me and sharing it makes me feel less alone as I go through it. I also get so much from the feed back I receive. I love it when someone says something that makes me go, hmmm, I hadn't though of it from that perspective before. Everything is really crazy in my life right now (on so many fronts) and that is reflected in how jumbled my thoughts and emotions are. Writing helps me sort it all out and really look at it so that I can figure out how to grow from it. And, maybe by sharing it with others, it will help them grow in some way too. I just don't want to overwhelm these blog followers with too many posts that are just -thoughts by Shama if they are just interested in reading a light hearted family blog.  Just something I'm thinking about. 

Who does THIS at 35???

So Jon and I have a little announcement....

Jon is joining the ARMY

  He is ready to be all he can be

I am completely serious. He leaves in about 4 weeks for officer training camp in San Antonio Texas and will be gone for almost 11 weeks. He is signing on for a three year commitment and will be stationed at Madigan on Fort Lewis base about and hour from our house. We have been researching this option for about two years now for a couple of reasons. 1-getting his Doctorates degree was really expensive and we have about $82K in student loan debt all of which the military will pay off during the three years he's in 2-Jon has wanted to be trained in clinical pharmacy for a while now but he would have to go back to school and do a residency and that just isn't an option for our family and 3-who isn't curious what Jon will look like with a military hair cut?

The recruiter has tried to get him to take different posts all over the United States but in the end we said that we didn't want to move (let me be honest, I didn't want to move) and that we would only join if they could make that happen. It didn't look like there was even the remotest possibility until two weeks ago when they called and said that the one post in the world we would be willing to accept had an opening. 

So I am entering the land of the military wives. In over 12 years Jon and I haven't spent more than 4 days a part not to mention that he is an amazing involved father, so this is going to be tuff all around. I am still kind of adjusting. We are scrambling to put in a new security system, finishing putting up trim and base boards, clean out the garage, get the yard pruned, fertilized, and ready for summer, as well as shoring ourselves up emotionally to be separated. I have seen my friends do it. I have always admired their strength and their positive attitudes even when they spend months as a single parent. I guess I will learn if I am made of such stern stuff. 

I could use some input on how and when to tell our 7 and 4 year old that daddy is going to be gone for a while as well as some coping strategies that you mom's who've been through it have used. As a parent I am open for input on how to keep this separation from being traumatic for the kids. Personally I need to know how you keep yourselves together when everything feels totally overwhelming. There has been a lot of upheaval and trauma in my personal life recently so this comes at at time when my emotional tank is running on low. Jon is my healing balm. Jon is my snuggle at the end of the day that reassures me that no matter what else is going on in our lives, in that moment, in that space, everything is just right. Where am I going to find peace like that when I don't have his arms to curl up in? 

L*O*V*E

For me there are two ways of loving others. The first is the general sort of, loving my fellow man, kind of love. You know, do no harm, lift up whenever you have the opportunity, seek to see the good in people, the golden rule type of love. There have been times in my life when I have been too self absorbed, too insecure, or too selfish to take the time to love those around me in this way. I have always been ashamed of those times; when I put someone down instead of building them up, when I have not gone out of my way even though I knew that the smallest effort on my part would mean so much to another. In those times I prayerfully ask forgiveness and try to live my life in harmony with the directive, “love one another as I have loved you”. This kind of love is the general mission statement for how I want to live my life. While not always easy, it doesn’t take an emotional toll.


The other kind of love, well that is much more personal and comes with a huge emotional price tag: unconditional love. To love without condition…that’s tough. That means that I am called to love even when the love isn’t returned. [That kinds of sucks] I am called to love even when the other person doesn’t do anything to deserve it. [Seems sort of unfair, don’t you think?] I am called to love even when the other person doesn’t want to be loved by me. [Why take the time?] I am called to love even when the other person is careless with my heart. [Couldn’t pick only those who can appreciate me…even a little??]I am called to love even during the times that I don’t like the other person. [Where’s the fun in that?] I am called to love even though it makes me feel exposed and vulnerable. [There is no joy in being crushed by someone] I am called to love because it isn’t my love that I’m sharing, it is God’s. It is not of my creation. The power of loving someone no matter the cost, no matter the outcome, is divine. That is the lesson I learned today.