These (shoes) were made for walking...

And that's just what they've been up to!

Brooke is now walking - and loving being able to (sort of) keep up with her big brother. She's quick on her feet too! She's really mastered the art of barefoot (a girl after my own heart!), and now we're upping the stakes, taking on the big leagues, and trying on the shoes.

Let me also say this: my sweet girl is well grounded. She takes after her mom (and dad), and is already into size 5 shoes.

But oh my - does she look adorable in her little shoes cruising around the backyard, trying out stairs and gravel paths, and sidewalk, and the grass.

Pictures of our little wonder walker soon... I just can't get over how fabulous her little shoes are.

blinded

These days, I'm blinded.

(no, not by the light silly. Though, I have had that song in my head lately.)

Seriously, though, I am blinded by all the decisions to be made, all the logistics to consider: do I fly from here or there? When should we go? Should we rent a car? Should we wait to make another really long drive? Should the kids and I meet up with Greg on our trip? Should we wait? Should we buy a double stroller now? Should we buy a double jogger stroller or umbrella-style? Should we live in an apartment or a house? (also, little details like this: Should we wait to start potty training Nate? Should I cut my hair differently? When should I get a hair cut?)

It's maddening. And exhausting, and enough to make me want to park it in the cafe that I discovered today with my mom, and just slurp on the most delicious espresso milkshake I've ever had.

Truly, with so much rolling around my brain I feel like I make move forward with anything.

And, yet, I do know how to do this: focus on one thing, make a decision and trust that the other pieces will fall into place. It's just taking that first step that is unnerving.

Timing

Isn't it amazing? Timing, I mean.

Hours after Greg pinned his wings on, we were celebrating with jubilation at the formal dinner - family all bedazzled (and kids with a sitter!), and basking in such an occasion.

My dad, decked out in his mess dress - that's the military's version of a tuxedo -ducked away from the table to take a phone call.

And with one look to my mom and seeing the expression on her face I had that "some thing's not quite right" gut feeling.

My grandmother passed away. Peacefully, painlessly.

My sister said it best: Greg got his wings, and Grandma got hers.

Still, I'm a bit in awe - a bit in shock? - about it all.

I'm thankful and blessed to have amazing memories of her - and ones that are so silly they make me and my sister peel to the floor in laughter.

She was a woman strong mindset, some might say she was ornery, but really, she just knew what she liked (and what she didn't!) and stuck to it, with all her might. And for all of her one-liners that made us raise our eyebrows and think "oooookkkaaaaayyyyyy....." she was the matriarch over our family, a family that has grown closer in the last 10 years. And I'm thankful for that, too.

She instilled in me a playfulness (she and my grandpa enjoyed Disney, and took us there often as kids.) and a stick-to-it-iveness that is hard to come by; she found simply joy in things like a good baseball game, and The Price is Right, and a burger from Wendy's. She loved it when my dad cooked dinner for her, but didn't like a fuss to be made over her. She saved every picture, every card, note, and newspaper clipping that was sent to her.

She loved to tell a good story. And she loved to listen to a story, too. She bough us Fruit Loops in a time when I thought my parents viewed Cheerios as a "sugar cereal." And she and my grandpa let me drive their golf cart. (Now, that is love to a nine year old.)

I don't think her passing has quite sunk in yet. It will, but in the mean time, I still am in awe of timing. 

Pilot

Did you know? I'm married to a pilot. Not just any pilot - a military pilot. He wears his wings on his chest everyday he is in uniform. (And that is so handsome. Really. It's stunning). 

It's true! Greg graduated from Joint Specialized Undergraduate Pilot Training on Friday. There was fanfare, there were pictures - but for just a moment, try to imagine this picture:

Twenty-five men in their dress blues,parading into the auditorium at almost a triple step. Standing to attention, saluting the American flag, twinkles in their eyes, knowing how far they have come the adventure that they have in store. 

We lucked out had an a terrific speaker, a lieutenant general who spoke from the heart about what he has learned about being an officer, a pilot, and a person in the Air Force in the last 30 years. He spoke candidly, and frankly, and even got a few chuckles. He noted how he wanted to speak longer just so the ceremony would drag on a bit - allowing all of us to savor this occasion. 

And then, the squadron commander announced that the winging would proceed. Nate audibly shouted Hooray! much to the delight of the families around us. And me too. Really, we were all shouting hooray. One by one, Greg's classmates were introduced, congratulated, and pinned with wings.

I had the honour of pinning Greg's wings on.

Greg's wings are special: they were his grandfather's wings from World War II. The are real sterling. With a real pin on the back (not a magnet). They are heavy, and tug at his uniform a bit if they are not centered and pinned on just right. 

This new pilot we have is carrying on a family legacy both of flying the skies, but also of serving in the Air Force.

Nate was so desperate to see Greg that with every person that was tall,  with a close-cut haircut, (you can imagine that doesn't narrow the field much) he shouted out "Daddy!" Truly,his dad is his hero. And I love that about those two.

Pictures to come - but I'm still letting the mental images of tradition, of ceremony, of pure joy capitalize in my mind. You should too.

Push it up

Just when you think you're going fast enough, there is some little voice within (or maybe that old soccer coach?) that summons up the courage to gently lean into your inner ear, and with all the gusto that can be mustered, yells "Push it up!" meaning, go faster, do more, make the most of this.

So, let me just say this: we have been pushing it up. I think that pleasantly sums up our last two weeks. And the two weeks that are coming, too.

Here's a quick recap: we have had dinner with people either at our house or out for that last 9 nights. We went to Wichita for two days, toured the (Awesome!) zoo, went to a great splash ground, experience the (incredibly busy) science museum - which I think was thronged with people becuase of the Star Wars exhibit that was on display. I mean it was cool... but Nate was less than thrilled with the Stormtroopers that we walking around. We divided our house of the things to move with us and the things to move home, and then we packed the house. We welcomed The Family (that is, almost all of Greg's family, my parents, and my sister) to town for a momentous event, a too-special day, a so-proud-I-cry-thinking-about-it-day: Greg's winging and graduation. Greg and I closed the bar down celebrating his awesome day (believe me, this shocked the rest of his class, too - we call them the Family 12-14). And all the packing, all the celebrating, all the moments you wanted to hit pause and just live in the moment forever? WE could not have done it without The Family here.

Really, we could not have made it through this whole year with out the proverbial village to support us. Thank you kindly, from the bottom of our hearts.

Dear CEOs of America

If you're looking for a lesson in tenacity, please save your dollars from a motivational speaker. Pocket the dollars saved (or better yet! give the dollars saved to a cause in need) and instead invest in watching a toddler negotiate meal-time with his parents.

I'd like to say Nate is fasting for a good cause - but not, he's just tenacious (and selective) about what/when/how/where he would like to eat.

Brooke on the other hand will eat anything insight, happily.

Seriously, you have never seen someone so committed to their own idea instead of being swayed by the idea of their parents. Yeesh.

(Also, I cannot imagine what it looks like from the "fly on the wall perspective" to watch Greg and I try to convince Nate to eat. It must be really funny. The negotiating stakes are high, but so are the antics. Trains, planes, and cars attempt to deliver the food to Nate's mouth. When that fails, this is what you get: a toddler laughing hysterically as they outsmart you jumping from couch to coffee table, and back again, diving under the table, behind the couch, discovering the tiny spaces under the desk, while mom and dad stand in one spot, fork in hand and try to catch the open mouth (usually from laughing) to shove a bite in.)

Do you suppose this is the precursor for negotiating with a teenager? If so, I'll need to up my game.

Weekend highlights

Thank goodness for three day weekends. This weekend is feeling especially delightful, and I'll tell you why: Greg does not have to study this weekend. At all! It's amazing, and feels triple the length of any weekend we've had for the last year. Bliss.

We have photos from the weekend, but I haven't uploaded them yet. So, I'll summarize the weekend in a few words:

1. Brooke learned how to clap this weekend, and she happily clapped all the way through the Sedgwick County Zoo.

2. Also, Brooke is now confidently taking steps in a row. She's up to four consistently, and while they are not big steps, she certainly makes forward momentum. (and then, she happy claps for herself. And we do, too.)

3. On the way home tonight from our short road trip, we made our final exit from the interstate (which is still another 45 minutes from home - see, Enid America is right in the middle of everything, but close to nothing. ;)) and Nate declared from the backseat that he would like to drive. And also, please go faster. (Oh my, are we in for a treat in 14 years!)

Last one in the T-Fun

Last week, Greg flew. A LOT. Four days in a row. (That's a lot of flying).

But, it was a monumental week. Because it was his last week of flying before graduation. That picture above? That's his last take off in the T-1 Jayhawk (Don't worry, he had a last landing, too - I just wasn't there to snap the photo).

Next stop: WINGS! And graduation. And family in town to celebrate.

(We are oh so excited.)

Maddness and chaos - and all in good fun

Chalk this up to more Air Force (er, military pilot, really) tradition: Assignment Night.

See, most people who are in pilot training with us (I say us because well, it is us. I know that Greg is actually learning to fly - but the kids and are are learning how to keep the house running (and flying?!) while he's out and about in the skies. I digress.) don't know where they are heading at the end of the crazy journey.

We, as reservists, are a little different. We know the plane and the base that we're going to... that's a lucky spot to be in.

In any case, two weeks before pilot training graduation, Assignment Night happens and a terrific huge unveiling of where everyone is going. It's a giant exhaling of breath that most - no, everyone - has been holding for weeks, and weeks, and weeks. It's a big deal.

Our "drop night" (that's what it's called because the assignments are "dropped" on the guys) was a total celebration. There were many happy smiling pilot faces around - all quite pleased with they assignments, the next planes that they will fly, and really just getting to this milestone.