Saturday, September 12, 2009

A day late

For some reason I simply could not bring myself to write a post about 9/11 on 9/11. I guess there was just something about yesterday that told me I should let it be. Not today though.

I can almost guarantee that everyone over the age of 10 remembers what they were doing that fateful day. Since we live on the West coast it was fairly early in the morning when the first plane hit. I am not, have never been, and will likely never be a morning person. I was in my Senior year of High school and throughout my high school career had figured out exactly what time I needed to get up to hurriedly get ready for school and make it to class by the second bell. Yes, the second bell, not the first bell. My mom woke me up way too early because she told me I needed to come watch the news. Most mornings I would have simply rolled over and gone back to sleep, but for some reason, that morning I got right out of bed.

Just like everyone else, we were watching the footage of the first plane hitting over and over and the newscasters were speculating about what could have gone wrong and how many people were hurt or killed. All of a sudden, on live TV, a second plane hit. At that moment you could almost hear the whole country gasp in shock. It is amazing that you have no idea what is going on but your gut feeling tells you it is just not good.

I was fortunate enough to grow up in a world without gangs or bar fights. I grew up in a world of relative peace, and for that I can thank my parents. I knew what terrorism was from school books and the news. I always thought that terrorism was driven by some kook who had an agenda and thought that the only way they could get people to listen was to do something crazy. I still think I am not far from the truth. Even me in all my innocence knew what was going on that day.

I watched TV until I needed to leave for school, listened to the radio the whole way in, and when I got to school every TV in every classroom was following the story. I had Dr Crowder that morning and we were supposed to have a test (if I remember correctly). We watched the news instead and talked about our views of what was going on.

Just because we were thousands of miles away from Ground Zero does not mean we felt the shock or pain any less. Most of us did not have family members who were in New York, but we knew that a lot of people in the country did. We, just like the rest of the country, felt a great sense of helplessness.

I will never forget that day, even though its affect on my life was not nearly as personal as the pregnant women who lost their husbands that day, or those babies who were born into life without fathers. It was not as personal as a mother in the Midwest receiving the dreaded call that her beloved son or daughter had been found but had not been found alive. It was not as personal as the many firefighters and police officers and volunteers who spent weeks searching through the rubble, knowing that there was no hope for those still trapped inside the wreckage. My heart still goes out to all of those whose lives were personally affected by the senseless act of a bunch of kooks. I sit here and look at my son and am so thankful that his Daddy comes home and hugs him every single day. I feel the movement of a sweet new life in my belly and am thankful that his or her Daddy will hold them moments after birth. I am thankful that my Mom never got a phone call like that. I am thankful.

May God bless America.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009


It is amazing how every milestone that our children reach we feel as if they are slipping out of babyhood and into childhood even faster than before. The first time Kyle does anything on his own I cannot help but get sentimental and emotional at the fact that my baby seems to be disappearing and is slowing being replaced by this wild, rambunctious, smart, funny, crazy child.

We know that the 'big' milestones are worth remembering, but what about the little milestones? Do you remember what day your child first said every single word in their vocabulary? I certainly do not. Do you remember when they first started using adult utensils? I sort of remember, maybe; OK, I don't know that one either. I can, however, tell you what day it was the very first time Kyle counted to '5' all on his own. It was Monday, Labor Day, the 7th of September, 2009.

We had just traveled back from Garden Valley and gotten everything pretty much put away. Kyle went to bed late, but since he had been in the car all day it was not a big deal. Larabee and I were out in the living room getting things ready for the next day when Larabee stopped me and indicated that I listen. Kyle was in bed counting to himself. I thought "how cute! That little turd just does not want to sleep!". Well, he has been able to count to 3 for some time, so it was no surprise when he got that far. Then we heard "four" and Larabee and I looked at each other with looks of astonishment on our faces. Then we heard "five" and we about fell off of the couch. He skipped six, said "seven, nine, eight, ten" and left it at that. Not too bad for a 20-month-old if you ask us! We are so proud of our little boy and his supreme intelligence, even if he was just using it as an excuse not to go to sleep.