The Contentment Project, Part I: Want vs. Have

Let me start by saying that we live a very cushy life. It was already pretty cushy when we cut ties with the Army a few months ago. Since then we've embraced a lovely new life and the cush factor has reached an all-time high. We waved goodbye to our world of deployments and war and friends who've laid down their lives for us and stepped easily into the life we've been planning for years. I traded in my uniform for jeans and time at home with the kids; my husband traded in his for suits and ties and nine to five. We gained a house with nearly twice the square footage of our old one, and moved from an isolated community without a support network to a picture-perfect and kid-friendly suburb with grandparents right around the corner. It's priceless to know that we'll never again being separated due to Army missions; even on busy days we still get to see each other at the end of the day. We'd dreamed of this life for so long, and now, to be finally living it? Sheer perfection!
So why am I writing about contentment right now?

Well, it all started one day shortly after we arrived in our new little Utopia. I was happily driving home from story time with the kids in my well-loved soccer mom SUV. As we slowed for a traffic light, I suddenly noticed that I was literally surrounded by luxury: an Audi in front of me, a Lexus to my right, and a BMW behind me. As if to add insult to injury, a sleek Mercedes breezed by me on the left and turned swiftly into the gated community.

The Good Idea Fairy

Remind me again that I'm
buckled in. I dare you.

The Good Idea Fairy loves my children. So much, in fact, that she visits them almost daily. You'd think that with more than five times their life experience combined, I would be able to stay ahead of the crazy ideas that manifest themselves in their little brains. Apparently not. Thus I present to you The Ways in Which My Children Have Outsmarted Me--all true, with an overwhelming majority carried out in the two seconds I wasn't looking.

There are your standard good ideas, of course, like the pencil/crayon/marker that didn't make it back to into the Bin of Safekeeping and instead became a medium for the mural on the wall. I'm still erasing pencil marks which I continue to find throughout the main floor and stairwell. Thankfully the wall can be reclaimed; the hand-made embroidered white placemat from my mother-in-law which met its match with the orange crayon was not so lucky. The power of dirt is another common attraction. Regardless of how many times I issue the reminder that dirt is off-limits, I can count on Marie turning my flowerbeds into "ant homes" every time.  And shortly after outfitting our breakfast bar with some bar stools, the very same culprit who decorated the walls discovered he could reach my

Seven...er, Eight Months!

Just thought I'd stand on
the couch since I know
Marie and Erik
aren't allowed to!

Somehow time at home has been moving even faster than when I was working, and my illusions of basking in the glory of each little milestone have been short lived. I had just gotten used to telling people that Ethan was six months old when I realized I needed to up the number; apparently I'd been too busy to even pause and take note of my big seven-month-old's day. Now here we are at eight months, and I want to yell at someone to stop the clock already because my little baby is becoming a big boy and I just want a little more time to soak it all in! But even in such a state of bewilderment, my joy in watching him grow could not be more complete. He's quite the happy kid with a big personality and a knack for making sure I know exactly what he wants or needs, like being picked up now! Right now! And wanting that toy, no that one, and more (and more and more) food since he eats like a little horse. He's demanding with the snuggling, too. My does he love to snuggle and melt my heart in the process. His big milestones in the past two months have been crawling at warp speed, pulling up, dancing, drumming on any and everything, gumming on any and everything (particularly choking hazards and paper), blowing extremely loud raspberries especially when it's quiet in church, and saying "ma-ma," "da-da," and "ba-ba." Oh and did I mention the chompers that finally showed up? One at a time, too, so we had time to snap a few snaggle tooth pictures with which to embarrass him in the presence of future girlfriends. Plenty of obligatory proud mama photos and videos of it all below!

Like Father, Like Son

Happy Father's Day to my dad, my father-in-law, and my beloved husband! 

Dad, you're the greatest example of fatherly love out there, and I am beyond blessed that you gave me the childhood you did. Tony, I'm so glad that we have the chance to celebrate with you this year and for all the times the grandkids have gotten to spend with you recently! And Peter, thanks for being more than I could have ever hoped for as the father of our children! 

Turns out the kids are pretty keen on their dad, too; here's what they had to say:

My Beef With Thinspiration

I know you've seen her too.

Slender thighs, a painfully thin midsection, sculpted arms, and a gracefully arching back save for the ribs visibly poking through. The only variations are her face, her name, and possibly the addition of a six or eight pack that barely veils her ribs. But her name matters not, because these days she's simply known as Thinspiration. I, personally, call her a liar.

She taunts women constantly, her form plastered everywhere, convincing them with ease that they can look better, no--they must look better, and that she exists to serve as their motivation.

She is one of the many reasons I have long avoided buying a scale.

All Hail, Fairy Godmother!

Every little girl needs some Fairy Godmother in her life on occasion, and this past weekend Marie got just that when her magical Godmother flew into town! 'Tis true: for some reason my trusty partner-in-crime, maid-of-honor, and let's not forget her most prestigious title: Queen Dork (which she still answers to...try it sometime) saw fit to buy an outlandishly expensive flight from Alaska to spend time with us all over Memorial Day weekend. It's been almost three years since we last saw each other, so I guess she realized how dire my withdrawal had become. It should go without question that we had a blast, but in case you need proof, here's the rundown: 

Hurt, Hope, and Heartstrings

Though I didn't plan on posting today, there are a few things that have really tugged at my heartstrings and should be shared.

First I'd like to petition your prayers for my friend, Julie, and her family who are in a world of hurt right now, to put it lightly. I found out today that they were in a car accident earlier this week and lost their six month old son, Tony, yesterday morning. From what I know, both Julie and her husband Todd were treated and released, but little Tony was in critical condition and just didn't make it. Utterly heartbreaking. Although I haven't been in touch with Julie much since college, I can vouch for what a beautiful person she is inside and out. When I moved from West Point to Pennsylvania as a shy and timid third grader, Julie walked confidently up to me on the playground the first day of school and asked if I wanted to be friends. Thanks to her, I had a best buddy from then on to sit with every day on the bus, walk home with once we got to middle school, carpool with once we got to high school (I still can't believe how patient she was every day when I was late), and just share some wonderful times with. She is such a caring and kindhearted person, as is her husband. Please please pray that they are just surrounded with love and support in the months to come as they try to make their way through this tragedy that no one should ever have to experience.
Thank you.

I'd also like to share these two videos that both reduced me to tears, but for much happier reasons:

The first is an amazing testament to the hope that can come out of a tragedy and the fact that good people are still out there making miracles happen.

Memory Lane

This past weekend we returned to our little abode on the shores of the Hudson to witness the beautiful wedding of Peter's old roommate. From the time the plane landed until it took off again we spent less than 48 hours on the ground, but our whirlwind trip was the longest we've been back at West Point since we graduated five years ago. Needless to say, it brought back a lot of memories. But not just of our time at school; I was constantly reminded of my childhood, too, since I spent four happy years growing up at West Point when I was in elementary school. For all the days I spent at there playing as a carefree first grader or wishing I could graduate and be gone from the place already as an overwhelmed cadet, I was so thankful for the two days we got during this return trip to relive the memories from different decades that kept popping into my head and overlapping!

Isn't she the cutest
mama ever?!

The best part was probably getting to see our dear friends (and fellow West Point grads), Tera and Tyson. Tera was my saving grace when we were in the same unit at Fort Drum, and despite the miles that separate us, she continues to keep me sane from week to week. So getting to see her in person is always a long overdue treat! They're both quite the inspiration--Tyson was injured in Afghanistan last year, after a facing a complete 180 in their life course and devoting the last year to his recovery, they finally got to leave Walter Reed/Bethesda last month to accept jobs at West Point. They offered to put us up for the weekend even though they just moved, and even watched lil' Ethan man during the wedding (the big kids stayed in Denver with Gran and Granddad). We were also glad to provide them with an opportunity to practice baby care before their little darling arrives, since they're currently expecting their first--a little girl due to arrive in July (I got to feel her kicking!). It went by too fast as always, but it was so awesome to see them again!

Couldn't Ask for More!

Today is a much different Mother's Day than last year. Last year we were all together at my aunt's house, I was eagerly anticipating our newest blessing (we didn't even know yet that he was a boy!) and it was one of the last extended visits I had with with my grandmother while she was still lucid. Today is a little bittersweet for me in some ways knowing that she's not around anymore and that my own mother and her siblings are missing her dearly today.

My New J-O-B

It's a funny thing, this stay-at-home-mom business. 

While at a friend's house for dinner recently, I was asked the simple question of how my new gig was going. I gave a little laugh but was coming up dry with ways to explain how it was the most ridiculously amazing yet stressful and frustrating pull-my-hair-out job that I've ever yearned to do. Luckily my friend's wife--a veteran stay-at-home-mom--helped me make sense of my hemming and hawing so that I could attempt to explain this anomaly to her husband, who had asked the question. Since then I've had some time while changing diapers and holding toddlers in the time-out corner to reflect on the question, and I think I've come up with the proper answer to how the whole stay-at-home-mom thing is going:

It's going.