Happy Halloween! {2015}

A fun Halloween with all of our favorite family, friends, and wonderful new neighbors!

Last But Not Least...

It's that time again.

You, little one, are a whole year older; I'm a whole year more bewildered, wondering where the days went. No matter. 365 days later and here we are. And since I poured my heart out for two other birthdays this year, it's only fair that I do the same on yours, don't you think?

You are a happy little light in our lives, my son, and you always have been. Before your little heart started beating inside of me, the doctors warned me that a future with more children was highly uncertain for us. Some of the scary things they told me came true. So when we found out about your little heartbeat and we saw you wriggling around safely and happily in my tummy, growing big and strong, you became our happy little miracle of hope. Of course, we can't forget to thank our buddy Saint Jude, ("Saint of the Impossible") for praying for you and us along with all of our other friends, and convincing the Author of Life that his feast day would also be a great day for you to be due...and born. Some miracles aren't so impossble after all, are they?

You remain [almost always] the sweetest, happiest, most guenuine, talkative and ham-tastic little boy there ever was.  You see the world in all positives. When I asked you what you wanted for your birthday this year, you said "I'll be happy with my presents, whatever someone buys me!" When you get excited about something, you say "yahooo!" in the cutest and funniest little voice. Your gleeful energy amazes me. You are the most annoyingly enthusiastic early morning person I've ever met (which I still think is a rather unfair distribution...if you could just donate a fraction of your morning spunk to the rest of us, our mornings would go off much better). Tonight Daddy and I wondered what it would be like to spend even half a day being as positive and happy as you. Daddy wasn't so sure the people at his work would go for it, but I think it would make the world a much better place. You do everything full force--sleeping, playing, laughing, making minion noises--often it's highly entertaining. And it's a pleasure to see how you're interacting with your siblings as you grow. You snuggle on the couch and read with your sister and crazily crash around the house with your brother. There's still fighting, but there's also lot more contented playing than there used to be. (Knocking on wood that it continues).

Once upon a time we jokingly started calling you "The Commentator" and the name certainly suits you more and more with the passage of time. You like to narrate everything down to your every movement and thought. You fill everyone in on everything, whether you're gracing family, friends, or that random parent on the sidewalk with your words--you know, that one mom who was desperately trying to get her kid into the school as we were leaving, but you thought it would be nice to excitely hold your new craft in front of their faces and explain in painstaking detail each step it took to create your masterpiece? I often have to tell such very polite people that it's okay to just keep walking because you will just keep happily talking, whether or not they're still there.

You (like your Uncle Q) love food. You are forever talking about food, asking if it's time for food, begging for more food, whining that you're hungry, and of course eating it non stop. Thankfully, it's not gone to waste--you, little man, clearly have the tall genes of the family. When we measured you tonight, you were taller at age 4 than big brother was last year at age 5. It's no wonder people ask if you two are twins!

You love Mommy and me time, even though sometimes it turns into Mommy works while you watch TV time. (Or maybe that's part of why you love it so much!) Thankfully, we do occasionally get to do some fun things for just two of us, you and I. You're still a mama's boy through and through. You crawl into my lap every night night during bedtime prayers to snuggle, and you've made a habit of ambling up to me at random points throughout the day with a little grin on your face and prolaiming, "kiss!?" as you grab my face firmly between your squishy little hands and plant a fat one (or ten) on my cheek.

Yes, as we've established, your sweet and happy moments abound. Except when they don't. Because you just won't. Like you can't even. For example, this morning when I mentioned that you had one last thank-you note to complete for all the very nice presents that you were so thankful for, and you collapsed on the floor in agony and cried all the way to school and into your classroom because it was your party and you could cry if you wanted to. It's clear that you're still the baby of the family and you don't like to hear the word "no." Boy does that baby blood still run thick through your veins. If I dare you to do something you are not predisposed to happily and enthusiastically agreeing to, you can tantrum it out like there's no tomorow.

Draw a picture? For a thank you note?
You don't even know my life.

Thankfully, since you are so predisposed to being happy and agreeable a fair amount of the the time, the whining and crying are manageable enough. Especially when we tell you not to laugh and so desperately hang on to your frown until you eventually laugh-cry your way back into happiness. After all, that's still what you do best. If you don't believe me, just go back and count the amount of times I ended up using some form of "happy" in this little note to you. I hope that's always as big a part of your soul as it is at age four!

Happy birthday, my little miracle man with a big personality. We're so thankful God made you and we love you to pieces!

 --               --               --

An interview with Ethan, age 4

Favorite color: Rainbow colors.
Favorite food: Bananas, just like minions!
Favorite drink: Smoothies.
Favorite song: Pepperoni in the Fire (lyrics and music by Ethan) and Born in the USA (no joke. always his first request during dance parties).
Favorite animal: A bear and my favorite color of bear is red. Oh and brown!
Favorite clothes: All of my clothes.
Favorite outdoor activity: Playing police and Army!
Favorite game: My Star Wars (Trouble!) game I got at my party. [and didn't write an thank-you note for yet].
Favorite Sport: SOCCAH! (aka soccer).
Favorite Hobby: Help water the plants.
FavoriteTV show: Paw Patrol.
Favorite Movie: Despicable Me.
Favorite family activities: Playing fishies! [Not something the rest of us ever recall doing together, but okay].
Favorite place to go on vacation: MOUNTAINNNNNNSSS!
What do you want to be when you grow up? Nuffing. (confirmed after asking a second time).
What are you looking forward to most about being 4? I get to go on big kid stuff. ("Like what?") Like stuff. And...well, Mommy, I have fun at school when I'm four too!

Selective Mutism Awareness - Marie's Contribution

October is Selective Mutism Awareness Month, along with all the many other causes that share the world's attention this month.

Our daughter, Marie, has Selective Mutism, which I've made brief mention of in the past. It's a big part of our lives, but not something I really talk about here since we firmly believe that it should be Marie's place to share if she'd like, not ours to speak about for her. Recently, though, her desire to share has surfaced quite a bit in many incredible ways, and I am honored to be able to use this platform to help her share as she wishes.

In the past, we hadn't really put a name to the condition when talking to Marie about her challenges, because it simply wasn't relevant yet. As she's grown and learned about the world though, her curiosity and thirst for knowledge have resulted in more involved discussions and a greater depth of understanding of her condition. So over the past year, we've taught Marie the term Selective Mutism, what it means, and that there are other kids in the world who also have Selective Mutism and who are also working hard to do brave things every day. To help this process, at the start of the school year I ordered a fantastic children's book called "Can't Talk? Want to Talk!" written by one of the mothers in my UK-based Facebook group, SMIRA, which stands for the Selective Mutism Information & Research Association. (Thus far, most of the research and studies for intervention/treatment has been done in the UK). Marie read the book herself as part of her homework reading assignment, and has asked a few times already throughout the year about sharing information with others so they can understand Selective Mutism, too. Marie also explained Selective Mutism to an older student at school one day during a break, because she said she felt comfortable enough in the moment to teach the student about it when the subject of her not talking came up.

I was extremely impressed with her desire to advocate for herself and spread awareness, so a few weeks ago I asked Marie if she wanted to do anything special for Selective Mutism Awareness Month. Her response? She wanted to make a diagram showing what happens physiologically to someone with Selective Mutism, and have her teacher tell her class about it. She also requested that I share it with Facebook. I searched high and low to see if there was any such diagram out there, and I could find nothing. So we created it together--though really, she did most of the work. She also gave an interview, which you can read below.

One thing that I've learned is that even when kids with Selective Mutism sometimes can't speak, they are not necessarily shy. This is clearly true in Marie's case. If she has something to say, she is determined to find a way to communicate her message, and she's not afraid of doing the hard work to make it happen.

If you had asked me before I became a mother what my proudest moment might be, never in a million years would I have guessed that this was it. Now, I'm so glad it is, and I wouldn't trade it for anything.

World: this is what our 2nd-grader, miss Marie, would like to teach you about Selective Mutism.

AN INTERVIEW WITH MARIE ABOUT SELECTIVE MUTISM

What is it like to have Selective Mutism?

"Embarrassing. I can't talk when I really want to say something, especially like on the first day of art, when kids got a piece of candy for answering questions right about the rules and I couldn't say anything even though I wanted to."


When is it most comfortable to feel like you can talk in school? 

"When I'm around my friends and no one is embarrassing me."


Why is it easier to talk to your friends? 

"I'm way more comfortable around them because they act nice and funny around me and they help me and treat me the same as our other friends."


When is it hardest to be comfortable and what makes it too hard to talk?

"When I have to stand right in front of the class and they want me to talk. When someone is rude about trying to make me talk or tries to get me to talk. It makes me want to walk away and I never really feel like I can talk to them."


What do you want the world to know about Selective Mutism?

"Not to tease about it. Just ignore them [not talking]. And it will be easier for the person to talk if you ignore it."


Interview by Marie. Questions by Marie’s Mom.

Retreat, CathSo Style

A few years ago, I became part of an incredible Facebook group of women from around the country (and now a few select international gals). We are ladies from all sorts of backgrounds who are trying to stay grounded in our faith while working our way through life. It started mostly as bloggers and people who do the Twitter thing (I still can't seem to jump on that bandwagon) looking to continue friendships and support each other in a more suitable space. And so a Facebook "sorority" group of sorts was born; "Cathsorority," or CathSo for short, has been going strong ever since.

I've been fortunate enough to meet and become great friends with a few of the girls in Colorado, going to weddings and baby showers and baptisms together, but for the most part, a good portion of the friends who have known me best for the past 3-4 years I still haven't met in person. 

We've had plenty of discussions about beaming ourselves to a big after-bedtime cocktail bar in the sky to hang out in person, and we've joked often about starting a commune, especially since at this point we could fill every community role necessary with all of our different degrees and strengths and talents. But alas, all the wishful thinking has been just that--wishful--since most of the occasional meet-ups have been limited to a few people in the same geographic area. 

Last year, though, one of our local Colorado sisters came up with the idea to make a girls' getaway happen for real: we would rent a cabin in the mountains, we would hang out together in person, we would have some (semi-) crazy fun, and focus on faith and sisterhood over glasses of wine and s'mores. 

Over the course of the year it evolved form a little idea into reality, and this past weekend we made it happen: a retreat, CathSo/Sisterhood Style!

Out of our lovely group of women, roughly half were from our original online group and the rest were more wonderful local ladies who we met throughout the course of the year. (To fit in comfortably with the life-filled theme, we had four infants accompanying their mamas, four pregnant women, and at least four Marquette monitors out of the bunch!) We began Friday night with pizza, a talk, and a little mixer to get the party started, with prizes based on best-dressed and most creative. The theme: Purple Mountain Majesties...because it's impossible to ignore the majestic beauty of the Rocky Mountains while on retreat in Estes Park, and also because there can never be enough purple in the world. [Unless it's paired with green on a big dinosaur].

Since purple has long been my go-to color, I was not lacking in options when shopping my closet, but sadly my Rocky Mountain Princess tiara (with real mountains!!!) was beat out by a Baby Gap pouff and the most hideously amazing lavendar 80s dress ever designed [how did I not get a picture of that one, Andrea?!]. 

Saturday was a very full but great (and surprisingly peaceful) day. Our first stop was St. Malo, the beautiful chapel John Paul II had visited during his time in Denver. Sadly, most of the grounds were destroyed in a devastating wildfire a few years ago, but they are working on rebuilding, and the chapel on the rock still stands. While we were there, one lovely lady gave a wonderful talk on sisterhood with the chapel and the mountains as the backdrop:

No filters here #becauseColorado

Then came a pleasant hike in the Lily Lake area, followed by time in downtown Estes Park taking in the sights, shopping, and enjoying lunch.

Some of the original CathSo gals.

Let me just tea nerd out on you for a moment to tell you, the little tea cafe called Moon Kats Tea Shoppe where my group ended up eating had some crazy awesome culinary creations that totally knocked it out of the park. I'm talking Earl Grey tea bread with lemon curd and clotted cream, Tea Cider (yes, tea steeped in apple cider) and the freakishly delightful sippable masterpiece I ordered called Orange Spiced Tabby--aka cinnamon tea steeped in frothy orange juice. You better believe that my tea game will be stepping it up a few notches in the future. If you ever find yourself in Estes Park, do yourself a favor and just wander on by sometime in the afternoon. Trust me.

Anywho, reeling myself back in...

Back at the cabin, some crockpot deliciousness was waiting for us, along with the wonderful priest who drove all the way out just so we could have mass in the comfort of our little lodge. He also offered reconciliation and adoration which was a real treat since most of us mamas with bebes have found that for some strange reason it's slightly difficult to fit those things into our schedules in the real world. That was easily the most restorative part of the weekend for me...a whole evening of guiltless peace and silence just to be fully, wholly present in the moment.

On the subject of being in the present, we chose the saint Jane Frances de Chantal as our designated patroness/role model/inspiration for the weekend. She was someone all of us ladies--from single to married to working to homeschooling--could relate to in different ways because she lived through it all. She was was a wife, a mother of four, a young widow, and a businesswoman (managing her husband's estate and then her in-laws' estate in a day and age where women weren't supposed to touch those things). She was always helping her community and grieved the loss of two of her babies and many family members before becoming a nun later in life. She focused on charitable work and influenced some pretty incredible decisions with local authorities to care for the sick and contribute all her convent's resources when a plague hit her region of the world. And she did it all with grace. At one point she said, "...we must live in the present moment, without forecast and without worry about ourselves, concerning either the future or the present." We adopted this wisdom as our motto for the weekend:

The whole weekend was the perfect balance of time for reflection and connection (at least for me, a self-proclaimed ambivert). It was so nice to connect with other ladies who had many of the same goals and who were struggling with a lot of the same conflicts, and who appreciated the same kind serious and snark that I do. We talked well into the night about all sorts of things, from the lightest of subjects to the deepest of thoughts [no Jack Handy required]. And I definitey lost a little sleep giggling and whispering animatedly with my roomates because it was way too easy to revert back to our 6th grade sleepover selves.

30 going on 13.

The matchmaking here starts young...

It struck me at some point that this was the first retreat I've gone on for myself since I've been in college/become a mom; it's been so long since I've taken that time away from the ceaseless to-do list so I could spend valuable time revisiting all the inner corners of my heart and soul. It challenged me to reach beyond my comfort level in some ways, re-examine some priorities, and get back in touch with the way I want to approach life. I enjoyed it all thoroughy. And it changed me deeply. So deeply that I came back and baked stuff. From scratch. For my family. (I know right? I should go on retreat like every day).

Garden fresh strawberry-rhubarb cobbler.
And I almost enjoyed making it. Who am I?

I'm so glad we [mostly my dear friend] figured out how to make it happen and put in all the hard work to pull it off. I'm so glad that I'm returning with deeper relationships with wonderful people who (as one friend put it) are actually real people behind that screen, not a bunch of creepers.

And I'm so glad I'll get to continue hanging out in person with so many of you. Thank you all for a lovely, spirit-filled getaway!

Planning team, minus one lovely mama who is busy snuggling her 2-week-old--as she should!

A Happy Medium

As you may well know (since I whined about it enough to those near and far) I spent the last two weeks in "army school" learning important Human Resources things that will make me smart and more in charge and stuff (in theory). Also, the course is a prerequisite for promotion to the next rank.

The trip itself to the grand Army Human Resources Mecca of Fort Jackson, SC went fairly well--no real travel issues, and I paid for my own rental car (happy birthday to me) so that I could do all sorts of fun things like go to Chipotle instead of dying from mess hall food (one classmate found a metal nail in his rice--no joke) and visit old friends in my minimal amount of spare time.

During week one, I had a lovely dinner with my West Point roommate from my freshman year who just got to Ft. Jackson. We hadn't seen each other since before graduation and it was so nice to catch up--we spent so long chatting we pretty much closed the restaurant!

I'm still bummed that I didn't make it to lovely Savannah as planned to see another good friend (but I'm determined to make it happen next time, C!).

I also got to hang out with my new First Sergeant from my unit all the way back in Colorado, since ironically she happened to be at Fort Jackson too (our Reserve unit's 2-star General was changing command). I left Colorado the same morning my new First Sergeant took charge, and we hadn't gotten to see each other the whole previous month to make plans or finalize anything, so after we ran into each other at the hotel we decided to meet for an impromptu dinner and get on our game. It was such valuable planning time and we had a good laugh about having to fly across the country just to get business done.

It was also nice in a lot of ways--especially the first week--to spend grown-up time with grown-up people as well as lots of quiet time by myself, and worry only about myself when getting ready or going somewhere. But I was a little surprised to find that by the first Sunday, I was pretty darn lonely. And bored. I filled my time after church and lunch with a classmate by channel surfing, then I went to the spa and got a pedi which should have been amazing, but for all the "me time" and self care I've craved in the past year, by Sunday I was apparently on Me Time/Self Care overload. I tried to enjoy it but found myself counting down the hours until I could call my husband and see my little people's sweet faces. Being apart for birthdays (mine and Erik's) also didn't help my homesickness, and made me realize as much as I need (and should take!!) a break sometimes, I am made for motherhood and my heart is not truly satisfied unless I am doing the job I was made for.

---

As far as the course itself, it was the first training I've completed since joining the Reserves, which was interesting in a way because it opened my eyes to a few different things. I arrived with a much different perspective than when I was doing Army stuff all day every day on active duty; in the Reserves now, my work consists of only one weekend a month in uniform, and I have to carve time out of my schedule as a SAHM to get the rest of the daily work done. (I'm also slowly learning the meaning of WHAM...which sounds nice in theory but oy, let me tell you.)

Arriving at Ft. Jackson, I was thrown right back into the active duty world I spent so much time in my former life wanting to escape--a world where Uncle Sam never sleeps and the customs and courtesies never cease; a place full of basic trainees being milled into soldiers and a thousand meal calls played on loudspeakers throughout the day between reveille and retreat, a place where an "early" morning starts at 4am instead of 6am and there are ten extra army rules in place for every civilian rule. (There was also the joy of another mandatory fitness test--my fifth in less than a year--that I had the pleasure of taking on my birthday and with a hurt shoulder to boot. Ugh.)

In class, the "active duty message" (which assumes that the Army is your first and only life) was loud and clear: we were learned active duty systems and spoke in active duty language, and we were continually reminded that we should do everything possible to seek out deployments and additional active assignments to further our careers.

Being that I care maybe a little too much about doing a good job and being respected, I found myself getting sucked back into the hype of that mentality the first few days. Finally I caught myself and had to do a little U-turn in my brain (squealing tires and all) to remind myself that no, I don't need to go seeking this or that assignment, because in my happy real world life, I live in a place I never want to leave, I am beyond lucky to have the family I do, and I have a job that allows me to intentionally put that family and their needs first, not last.

It was also a little disappointing to see the disconnect between what I'd hoped to learn in my course now that I'm in the Reserves and what we were actually taught. Human Resources systems (and many Human Resources requirements in general) are completely different in the Reserves than on active duty systems--and we also had National Guard classmates in our group, adding yet a third way of doing things. I was really looking forward to learning Reserve stuff I've needed to know for a long time now, only to realize that none of it would be addressed and most of the things I would learn wouldn't be applicable to my role in the Reserves. Talk about frustrating, and it made a lot of the course feel like a huge waste. The good news (at least for future generations) is that they've heard the feedback and are working on a course redesign to address some of the issues, although it won't be fielded for a few years--so for now, I continue to be an active duty expert bobbing around the Army Reserve world. I will say that I really appreciated meeting and networking with other people like me. I already have a good working relationship with another girl; I was able to send her something she was looking for, and she's helped me get on the right track in a few areas where I needed help.

Being back in Active Duty Land also made me realize that I actually enjoy a lot of what I do in the Reserves. That's still a bit hard to admit--I was so burnt out and bitter toward the Army in active duty (for good reason in many cases) that it's still a bit surprising to find that I actually do enjoy some aspects of the work (at least when I'm not too overstretched, which does still happen).

Overall, the whole experience helped me gain a much better appreciation for my hybrid of civilian-military life. I've realized that what I do now gives me the freedom to do the things I both need and like, and do them in the right order of priority. It's a happy medium, and after this course I'm glad to have the confirmation that--at least for now--I am without a doubt right where I need to be.

The midly supressed satisfaction of my last day
in these digs for a whole month.
Goodbye, active duty...hello, fall wardrobe!

To My Erik

You're six today, my Ookie Man. [I suppose someday you won't let me call you that, but just so you know, I'm going to get away with it for as long as I can].

You are everything I imagined when I thought of having children (well, the few shallow things I imagined before I actually had kids, that is); your blond hair and blue eyes are as fine and bright as the day you were born...and the other day in your eyes I caught that perfect blue-green combination that I fell in love with when I looked into your daddy's eyes all those years ago, the kind of blue-green that changes to perfectly match whatever color blue or green you're wearing and still steals my heart.

Thankfully, you've also brilliantly filled in the gaps of all the many profound and important things I never thought to plan for or expect or consider back when I imagined having a son. The way you view and experience the world challenges my views and experiences every day. And trite as it may sound, you really have have helped me grow so much as a mother and a person. You're still teaching me about life and motherhood [and patience] daily and I know that certainly won't stop anytime soon.

I love your imagination [even though it's hard most days to get you to exit that imagination mode even for a few seconds], and your incredible, beautiful mind blows me away day after day. I love the innovations you love to create--strung up contraptions around the house, 3-D tank templates drawn and folded from a sheet of white paper, or something as obscure as an object you observed in a computer game (I was in awe when I realized that paper craft was a bundle of dynomite you'd copied from the game). I love how you overwrote my assumptions of your reading level with the story you spontaneously wrote the day you came home from school with your first set of sight words. And even though the amount of time you spend building legos instead of getting ready is inversly proportional to our chance of actually making it to school on time, and even though I don't always love when your bizarre contraptions pop up right in my path, your creations have earned you every bit of your name, Ookie the Engineer.  Your mind continually devises the kind of things mine can only marvel at. It's pretty stinking impressive...and it's oh so clear that your soul was created with the kind of unbelievably intricate divine inspiration that God likes to use when He's showing off.

On the subject of marveling...six seems so old to me. Especially when it comes to you. I'm still getting used to you being five. And adjusting to the fact that you're in kindergarten. And grasping the fact that you're mastering this whole big-kid life that I've slowly accepted as your sister's world, but I'm not ready to picture you in. If I've learned anything, though, it's that time doesn't wait for me to be ready. I told Daddy right before I left that you just looked so old to me all of a sudden. I stared at you that day and tried not to shake my head in denial as you tried to open a new box of granola bars so you could pack your snack in your backpack a whole day in advance. You were oblivious to my watery eyes; you focused with determination on that stubborn carboard flap for a long while before getting too frustrated and asking me to help. So I swallowed the lump in my throat and helped you. Then I took a picture of you so I wouldn't forget just how how big little you looked right in that moment.

I also discovered the other week that you had slipped three snacks in your backpack, so you could inhale as much of them as possible at school and then come home and tell me you needed to finish your snack (all the while pretending it was snack #1 not snack #3). You're a crafty one, you little snack monger. But I'm still ahead of you (for now).

But today, I'm not with you. I'll say it: missing your birthday is killing me. Not that I want to miss anyone's birthday, and not the Army gave me much choice in the matter...but if I had to miss one I definitely didn't want it to be yours. I'm sorry I'm not there to hold you in my arms and click through pictures with you, together reliving all those first moments of snuggling all 7lb.7oz, 21inches of sweet little you for the first time on September 22 at 2:22am.

Tonight I wanted to be the one to make your birthday dinner of gnocchi with tomato sauce that you've requested (and prayed for) every night at bedtime prayers for a year. I wanted to make (okay, maybe buy) your cake and light the candles and sing Happy Brithday to you all day long and be the one to give you that Jake and the Neverland Pirates card I picked out with the foldable pirate hat you can wear. I bet it looks awesome on you.

Instead, I sit here, 1,631miles away (which is 1,631 miles too far) wishing I was there to watch you blow out that sixth candle, and still wishing with my heart that you get your birthday wish.

It is every bit as heartwrenching as I imagined it might be, and then some.

But my only consolation is that it does feel like this--that it is so very hard on my heart because I love you so very, endlessly much with all my heart. It quiets the doubts and fears that sometimes creep into my mind, wondering if--as the mama of someone as unique and special as you--maybe I have not loved you like you need or deserve. But feeling this, I know my love could not possibly be any stronger or better, my son--that I'm sure of now.

I hope your gnocchi is cooked to perfection and I can't wait to make you more when I get back. Happy 6th Birthday, my Erik. I love you beyond measure and then some.

---     ---     ---

An interview with Erik, 5.96 years old (aka 2 weeks ago):

Foverite color: Green.
Favorite food: Pizza.
Favorite drink: Chocolate milk.
Favorite song: I don't really have one.
Favorite animal: a zebra!
Favorite clothes: My superhero shirt.
Favorite outdoor activity: I want to put a big tub outside to race boats in!
Favorite game: Banana wizards. (Me: "How do you play that?") It's a kind of tag. Someone's a wizard, the other people are humans, the wizard tries to tag the humans and if he does it turns the human into a banana. But if you're not you can stand in the rocks and be safe. (Note to self: don't get frozen into a banana).
Favorite Sport: Baseball.
Favorite Hobby: Playing with my dart gun and legos.
FavoriteTV show: Jake and the Neverland Pirates.
Favorite Movie: Wall-E.
Favorite family activities: Water balloon fights.
Favorite place to go on vacation: The beach!
What do you want to be when you grow up? A SUPER Spy.
What are you looking forward to most about being 6? Being a toasted marshmallow with the top on fire for Halloween!

Unicorn/Uniform Birthday

This year I spent my 31st birthday in a(n entirely predictable) way I didn't originally predict: in uniform across the country from my family, courtesy of Uncle Sam.

Taking a physical fitness test followed by sitting in a classroom for a 12-hour day wasn't exactly on the top of my birthday wish list, but my wonderful family spoiled me in other ways before I had to leave...

Brian Regan

We've been a fan of the comedian Brian Regan for a long time, and when Peter found out he was coming to Red Rocks to do a show over Labor Day, tickets appeared along with an early birthday date night at The Fort. I'm kind of shocked that I hadn't heard about this shmancy/fun restaurant after living here for 3 years--and i think it is definitely one of the better kept secrets of our little area. It's an old adobe fort-turned-home-turned-restaurant with a real knack for buffalo steaks and some fun characters running around in Native American and Old West outfits. Also an old saloon-type bar and a teepee and a some stocks in case a customer gets out of hand. It was fun and delicious!

I'm either a lout or an unlicensed printer. Likely both.

Brian Regan himself was entertaining as ever, and my smile/laugh muscles were pretty sore by the end of the night. We also really enjoyed the comedian who opened for him, Joe Zimmerman, and because of him we're now on an official spirit animal kick.

It was a great night overall!

Unicorn Party

Well technically, it wasn't a Unicorn party, just a regular early birthday celebration. But Peter went all out with Princess Sophia plates and made me wear a Birthday Girl badge and got party hats that were too small and had to be donned very creatively. So there was only one option left: embrace my inner Princess Unicorn.

Caught in the act by Madamoiselle Paparazzi.

Peter stayed up late baking a dairy-free cake for me and got up early to decorate it total cake-boss style:

And he also cooked up my requested dinner, stopping home between trips to his clinics to sear a roast and put it in the crock pot so I didn't have to:

Other Cool Stuff

I got spoiled with some nice gifts (including the rental car that I'm driving during my trip so I didn't have to rely on carpooling with classmates who were complete strangers last week). But the best gifts of all are those I often take for granted and I'm only able to appreciate from a distance this year: my parents who raised me and gave me life, and my incredible husband and kiddos who love me and fill my life with incredible purpose every day. And who I'm missing very dearly, especially today. My kids left THE most adorable voicemail singing Happy Birthday to me, which I'm going to save for absolutely ever. 

And those strangers I was so worried about last week have actually turned out to be pretty amazing--I was so touched by my class, who figured out that it was my birthday (AG/human resources crowd notice dates like nobody's business!) and this morning they ambushed me with some cupcakes and public embarrassment. 

And after class I had such a fun night going to dinner with some of the girls, just relaxing and enjoying life. 

I'm also feeling overwhelmingly loved and lucky tonight as I see all the love sent by way of messages and media. You all make me feel SO so special!

I was so ready to be bummed on this day that wasn't exactly what I would choose, but instead I've been reminded constantly throughout the day in ways I cannot ignore that I really am blessed to be right where I am. It's helped me remember that life is really about taking time to appreciate and enjoy the good moments, however small they may be and wherever they may happen. 

So here's to another year of moments, and a lot of thanksgiving for all the moments leading up to today that have made this life of mine what it is!