Heaven

Living on a Military installation in a foreign country is a lot different than living in a foreign country without support. For one thing I have American TV. The Armed Forces Network sends us most of the top rated American television shows. We don't always get them at the same time as they are seen in the US but we get a lot. Sometimes we get the shows a few days, weeks or months after they are aired in the US. We haven't gotten the second season of Desperate Housewives or Lost yet so don't spoil it for me.

The other day I was watching the Barbara Walter's special about Heaven. I was really excited to see it. Living and traveling to other countries has given me a great curiosity about other cultures and religions. I was a bit disappointed in the special, it was more like a music video than I would have liked, but it was interesting. But it reminded me of an adventure we had in Italy. During the beginning of the special they showed many of the songs written about Heaven, one was the song by Bob Dylan: Knock Knock, Knocking on Heaven's Door. I am hoping your are singing it in your head right now.

Back in 2001, we were on a train in Italy traveling to Firenze (Florence). I am taking some poetic licence here, I cannot specifically remember if this was a train ride to Florence, Bolongna, Venice or somewhere else, all the train rides are a bit blurred together for me. Angel if you read this your memory is better than mine.

We walked about a mile from my house to the train station in Pordenone. There were three families. Ours consisted of Jeff, Me and Mandy who was around 10 at the time. Our friends both families had children who were 3 and 5. The kids were all amazing for this very long adventure. So we walked to the train station at o'dark early. We rode the train from Pordenone to Venice. We then had to get off the train and use our traveling skills to figure out which track our next train would be on and get on it before it left. We had to do this while keeping track of all of the kids and bags. Luckily it was early in the morning and there weren't many people around. So we found the train and our seats on the train, we had all our kids and friends and bags. I really can't remember how many trains we had to get on to make it to Florence that day, or like I said this could have occurred on our way to Bolongna or Venice.

But, there we were in our assigned train car early one Saturday Morning. The only other people in the car with us was a Tibetan Monk in his scarlet robes, and his entourage of companions. Just like the Tibetan Monks on Barbara Walter's special. They were quietly sitting on their side of the train and we on ours. We were all dozing as getting up early and being on a moving train often puts me to sleep. A Pat (think Saturday Night Live Character androgynous man-woman person) came into the train car. He/She was noticeably drunk. He/She saw the Tibetan Monk and started singing Bob Dylan's Knock, knock, knocking on heaven's door, very badly and very loudly. (This song was also portrayed on Barbara Walter's special.) They also spoke a bunch of Italian we couldn't understand and Pat left the car. All of us, the Tibetan Monk and his entourage along with all of us Americans we all laughed and laughed. We all wondered what he/she had been saying. Every once in awhile Pat would come back through the train car singing his song. I think he/she opened his/her wallet at one point to give the monk some money. For the rest of the day we all had that sound in our head, knocky.. knocky.. knocky. We would slur it just like Pat did. It was an incredibly long day, after getting up so early and riding the train for hours we walked miles and miles through the streets and museums of Florence with all those kids. Taking turns imitating our drunken Pat.

To this day my family will imitate Pat's singing for a laugh. So to me Barbara Walter's special was an ode to my train ride to Florence and a drunken Pat serenading a Tibetan Monk with Bob Dylan's song. Knockey, knockey, knockey.

Asamushi Aquarium

I am so excited. It is Christmas eve and we get to open one present after dinner. I can't wait. I forgot what I asked for, one of the advantages of being old. Yeah!

Yesterday we drove to Aomori and went to an aquarium. It was a lovely drive through the mountains. The tree branches heavy with snow, but the sky was bright and sunny. The roads were a bit icy at times, but we made it there and back. We took a toll road and it cost $8 each way, but who knows what the back roads would have been like. This will be our first white Christmas here. We live in the very northern part of Japan, it snows over 100 inches here every year, but so far none on actual Christmas. We are very excited.

We went to the Aquarium on a Friday, and there were only about ten other people there. We barely even saw other people. We got to get close up and look at things as long as we wanted. It was easy to keep track of Lily. She was an angel and loved all the fish. We even got to touch some, she got very wet. Then there is a dolphin show at the end. Now I have seen dolphin shows in 6 US states, and Italy and Japan. All the same. All fun. Now Mandy wants to be a dolphin trainer instead of a lawyer. The Japanese dolphin trainers wore Santa suits, I'm just saying, the Japanese are not Christian, yet they celebrate Christmas, Merry Christmas is all around. We then had a picnic in the car and Lily and I napped on the way home. A lovely adventure the whole family enjoyed. I am so glad we went.

Tomorrow is Christmas! We mailed all our packages to all our family all over the world and only got one in return. From my parents. Yeah, mom and dad. Jeff says we don't send packages to get stuff in return, he is so sweet, I am just saying. Today we check the post office one last time. There was a package, it was a huge box, I was so excited. It was from Jeff's new troop who is moving here next month and mailing some of her stuff ahead of time. I don't think our packages will make it to our family for Christmas either, I mailed it all two days after the deadline. One year we didn't get our Christmas packages until February, and they were mailed before the deadline. So there is still some hope that our family loves us.

1 ¼ years until we leave Misawa
6 ½ years until Jeff retires from the military
16 years until we hike the Appalachian trail

Somewhere in there I will actually pick a degree path and graduate from college.

Sugar High

Can you tell I have been on a diet? My posts have been all food all the time. Friday, I baked 4 batches of cookies: chocolate chip, snickerdoodles, peanut butter & chocolate crinkle for a Christmas party. I tried them all, it was my first sugar in about a month. Oh my! It was so lovely. I was overcome with happiness, energy and love. I loved everything and everyone. The next morning I woke up with a sugar hangover. For three days I have been sneaking bites of sugary goodness everywhere I can find it. Now I am back on the wagon. Complete with sore throat, aches, depression etc. Those cookies sure were good, perhaps it was all worth it. Today I am going to try to get out of my sugar withdrawls with some fresh air and exercise. Sleeping all day and feeling sorry for myself isn't really working.

Ramtei

When you get a few extra dollars in your wallet, and the refrigerator is bare, and you decide to go to a restaurant, do you go somewhere new or somewhere familiar? Do you order something you have never had before or something you know you love? I am usually an adventurer, the type of person who can't even cook mac and cheese the same way twice, so usually I am looking for the next great thing. A new restaurant or at the very least something I have never tried before. As the temperature drops and the holidays near, I find myself craving the comfort of something familiar. So today I am dreaming of Ramtei, which is actually Jeff's favorite restaurant.

Our first day in Misawa, we got off the plane, after what felt like an eternity of travel to our new home Misawa. There was freezing rain turning to snow as we walked down the stairs of the plane to touch the beautiful ground and freedom of the confines of the aircraft. We had traveled here from Italy, through the military, which involves a lot of stopping and a lot of waiting. Tired, hungry, dehydrated and 4 months pregnant we were shuttled to our lodging. Jeff's office had come out to greet us and see that we were comfortable, they brought us groceries, even a litter box for Daisy (our crazy Italian Cat). They told us of their favorite restaurants, one of which was Ramtei. After showering and changing we called a taxi and tried to remember the name of the restaurant they had gone on and on about and we couldn't. We asked the taxi driver to take us to a Japanese restaurant and he took us to the Japanese police department. We said no, food (and made eating noises). And he drove us to a Chinese restaurant (my favorite, New Myaki). So it wasn't until a week later that Jeff found out how to get to Ramtei, which is only a block from the base.

Ramtei is one of those restaurants that is catered to the American, Japanese people don't usually eat there. It is a very small restaurant, and there is only one thing on the menu. (well there actually is more, but there is only one thing we get). That is all you can eat beef. The owner brings you a plate of raw, seasoned beef cut into bite sized pieces and you cook it up yourself on the skillet at your table.

The last time Jeff and I went there we were on a date. We do that once or twice a year. We paid our eldest daughter to watch the younger one and I even combed my hair and put on makeup. There is no parking at Ramtei, so we parked at the base and walked the block or so there. This was a difficult walk back when I was pregnant, but I would dream about the beef and make Jeff take me there at least once a week, but this time the walk was only hampered by illfitting snow boots and icy roads. It was a lovely night big fat snowflakes falling, us all bundled up in our hats, gloves, scarves and heavy coats. We strolled along to get to Ramtei the moment it opened. We were one of the first people to arrive, but by the time our beef was sizzling the small restaurant was filled with people.

Our conversation turned to the future. Ramtei looks like a log cabin on the inside, beautiful wood paneled walls and floors. Jeff's mind always wanders to the house we will build when he retires from the military. Ideally we want to live on top of a mountain not too far from family, but not too close, in a rustic cabin like home, with a huge front porch, where we can sit in our rocking chairs and look at the mountains. We talk of this on all our dates, it is our favorite conversation. Our favorite daydream. So we dream away and gorge ourselves on the beef. It is a secret recipe, but very peppery. The restaurant is filled with the smoke and scent of the heavily peppered beef sizzling at every table. When we are so full we can barely move we bundle back into our winter clothes and begin our slow walk back to the base.

It had been snowing all along and we were forced to walk at a leisurely pace. We noticed a souvenir shop, in the window a beautiful picture of Mount Fuji. Jeff has hiked Mt. Fuji twice so far and we notice it is being sold at a very reasonable price. So we go into the store. This is a small store and the owner is no where to be found. So we browse the store for awhile hoping he will return. This actually happens to us a lot, going in a store and not being able to find the owner. Eventually he returns, he was outside shoveling snow from the sidewalk, and we pay for the beautiful picture. He is telling us something in Japanese, he keeps repeating himself and we have no idea what he is saying. Jeff keeps shaking his head, trying to say, we don't understand. Finally the shop owner holds his nose with one hand and waves his other hand in front of his nose and clearly says, "Stinky" in English. We are a little embarrassed and he asks us, "Ramtei" and we nod yes. So I am thinking we stink a bit from being at Ramtei. Whenever Jeff eats there without me our bedroom smells of fermented dung in the morning after a night of his breath in the closed room. The smell of Ramtei comes out of your skin, your breath, it gets into your clothes. The price we pay for the yummy.

After we get our car we decide to stop by the shoppette and get a movie. We run into all kinds of people we know, knowing full well, thanks to the Japanese souvenir shop guy that we really stink. Jeff and I make small talk with our friends, and we keep looking at each other trying not to laugh. It was so much fun.

Seven

I have been taged to do a Meme, by Momof2.

Seven things to do before I die:

1. Finish college
2. Hike Appalachian Trail from beginning to end.
3. Become a high school math teacher
4. Loose Weight
5. Learn to paint, knit, photograph, draw, and/or sew
6. Own a house with a porch and two rocking chairs on the porch
7. Learn to surf

Seven things I can (or will) not do:

1. Have more children
2. Cheat
3. Be graceful or eloquent
4. Bring home abandoned animals, no more ever
5. dance well
6. sing well
7. give up chocolate

Seven things that attract me to my spouse:

1. Integrity
2. Optimism
3. He always has a plan
4. His southern drawl
5. Sense of humor
6. Kindness
7. He is drop dead, knee melting gorgeous, with a hairy chest, broad shoulders, tall-dark-and handsome...

Seven things I say most often:

1. Watch your mouth
2. Let's go sit on the potty
3. No thank you, she's allergic
4. Have you cleaned your room yet?
5. Is this the ball? (from Lily's favorite book)
6. Let's go bye, bye
7. How YOU doing

Seven books (or series) I love:

1. Poisonwood Bible and all books by Barbara Kingsolver
2. Anna Karenina
3. One for the Money...Stephanie Plum series by Janet Evanovich
4. Harry Potter series
5. Any and all romance novels
6. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings and other books by Maya Angelou
7. Sue Grafton Series, A is for Alibi...

Seven movies I watch over and over again:

1. Gone with the Wind
2. Ever After
3. Dukes of Hazzard or any and all campy remakes
4. Nightmare on Elm Street
5. Charlie's Angels
6. A Christmas Story
7. Chocolat


Seven people I’m curious about that I’d like to join in:

I don't think that there are seven people who actually come here, so if you are here and reading this and have a blog I would love to get to know you better.

Dachau

I am taking an online History class. The way the class works is the teacher asks a question and everyone answers in a message board type format. Then we are required to respond to one another's answers. Our teacher asks about 150-200 questions per week and no one has thus far responded to anyone else's answers, who has time. This week, or really last week as I am a week behind in my responses, we were asked to define social-Darwinism and how it led to the first and second world war. One of my classmates is a total ignorant ass, I have been avoiding reading his answers this whole course because he upsets me so much, but this week I somehow managed to read his answer to this question. It was such a mistake. He wrote about how he believes in social-Darwinism and went on and on about all the evidence he believes exists in the world to back up his ascertain that his race is more advanced than other races. Reading his words reminded me of our trip to Dachau Concentration Camp near Munich, Germany in 2001.

We arrived there on a cold June day. We were on a guided tour, first of Munich and then off to Dachau. In Munich we had brats and beer at the market. We climbed stairs to the top of the local church and viewed the city. After drinking a huge beer, served in a glass stein. The city was crowded, people jammed the streets, eating and buying food from the street venders. It was a bustling city come alive. Then we drove a few miles to the town of Dachau, the site of a concentration camp from WWII that was left standing as a memorial to all who had died.

Munich and Dachau are very close to the border of France, but not too close. Once the Allied forced crossed the border into Germany the Germans surrendered. There had been months of fighting very close to the border, I especially remember, "The Battle of The Bulge" in Belgium as we visited this site on our WWII memorial tour of 2002. Jeff is a history major, majoring in Military history for his Bachelor's degree and is now working on his Masters in WWII history. It turns out that the American journalists arrived at Dachau concentration camp before the Nazis had left, they were still burning bodies in the Krematorium and guarding the emaciated prisoners. These journalists had cameras and as we toured the concentration camp we watched the film, of the conditions as they were that day. The pile of naked bodies. The tortured prisoners. Even Amanda watched this movie. It was so overwhelming. That is the only way to describe it.

After the film we toured the camp. Only one of the building which housed prisoners was reconstructed. The foundation was left of the other buildings, which were all burned down upon the camp's liberation. We saw in the film just how this camp looked, and then walked there. Walked where there had been hundred of starving people, walked where the pile of dead bodies had been, walked into the gas chamber and the Krematorium. I could hear the souls crying out to me. The terror of this spot screamed in the cold silence of that June day.

For a long time I asked how could this happen. Was it Hitler. Was he so evil and demented that a single man could cause this to happen? Were all the good people of Germany so terrified of this happening to them that the let it happen? Were all German's evil? As I walked the streets of Germany was I walking amongst the dependence of true complete evil? Those were my thoughts at the time. Today I believe that the answers are more complex, more complex than good versus evil. I read many books about the holocaust in search of the whys. I read books of survivors, there stories of being taken from their homes, and the horrors they endured at the camps. I began to wonder of the neighbors who watched these people being rounded up and taken away. All over Europe people were rounded up and taken away. How would I act if my neighbor was being rounded up and taken away? Would I keep quiet? Would it be because I didn't want the same thing to happen to me? Would it be because I didn't really like my neighbor and was glad they were going away? Would I think that my neighbor was subhuman and this was for the best? Would I risk myself and my children to stand up for someone who was different than me?

I sit in my home reading the words of a classmate, a classmate spewing words of racial superiority. Do I speak out? He lives thousands of miles away and cannot harm me. Do I speak out? I am in a classroom situation where I am encouraged to debate topics. Do I speak out? Honestly I am worried about the next eleven weeks of class, if I confront this man will he stalk me and criticize me for the rest of the term. If I ignore him I wont have to think about him or his hateful words again. I can go through the rest of the term just not reading his words. I can isolate myself from him. If I respond, this sick feeling, this anger will be with me everyday for the rest of the term. Do I respond? Do I let the teacher handle it?

This situation takes me back to my frustration toward the German people during the holocaust. Why did it happen? Could it happen again? Are we all evil and selfish enough to allow other human beings to suffer and die so that we can not be bothered? I don't think the world has changed.

I did respond to him. I say bring it on baby. I am ashamed to say it took me a few days to make the decision and I considered ignoring it all together. I know it wont change his mind, but I still think it is important to stand up for humanity, even if it is only with words during a history class. That is just one of the ways that being a military dependant and seeing the world has changed me. Sorry the pictures suck so much, back in June 2001 my digital camera was so lame.

Japanese Ramen House

While Ramen is not gluten-free or in any way Miss Lily friendly, it is one of my favorite things about Japan. Before moving here my experience with Ramen was limited to Top Ramen, you know those $.25 packages of Ramen in the grocery store. I never cared for it. I was therefore hesitant to try Ramen here in Japan. There are so many wonderful things and eating out is so expensive I didn't want to waste my eating out opportunities on Ramen. That is one of my biggest quandaries living in a foreign country for a limited time. Do I eat the things I have tried and know I like or do I adventure out and try new things, spending money and taking the chance I may not like it? A couple of years ago a friend of mine insisted that I try Ramen.

There we were three new moms with our babies sitting on the floor of a Ramen house with our babies in there car seats sitting next to us. What was I thinking? There were regular tables, but my friend she insisted we eat Japanese style on the floor. Not so easy for me to sit on a pillow next to my little one and eat a huge bowl of soup. As soon as I took my first bite, all the discomfort of my position evaporated.

Japanese Ramen is the most incredible thing I have ever eaten in my life. The winters here are cold and this huge bowl of warm homemade broth and hand rolled noodles warms me from the inside out. The broth comes is many flavors, I have tried the miso and the soy, both are excellent. The noodles come in various sizes, thin to incredibly thick, although I think that the fat noodle are called Udon noodles and therefore if you order soup with Udon noodles you are not technically eating Ramen, although this is sold at Ramen houses. There is all different types of veggies or meat floating in your Ramen, depending on what you order. You can even order kimchi in your Ramen, which is cold spicy pickled cabbage floating in your hot savory ramen. It is all delicious and has the addictive msg which soothes the soul and causes massive headaches and withdrawal. After eating anything laced with msg I get a good couple of hours of blissful drunk like peace before the headache sets in. I recommend taking some ibuprofen with the meal to counter the effects of the msg.

Ramen houses are typically very small, little shacks that seat about 10 people. You sit shoulder to shoulder with the other people. One of my favorite places there is only room to sit on the stool at the counter. But, with my friends at my first experience we were at a good sized restaurant, good sized for Japan means eight tables and a counter.

To eat the huge bowl of Ramen you are given one is only given chopsticks. Ramen is soup, how does one eat soup with chopsticks. I mean I am getting better but soup? We looked around at the Japanese people seated around us and found that one eats the noodles with the chopsticks and drinks the broth from the bowl. The noodles are very long and it would be difficult to wind the noodles around chopsticks so I watched the Japanese for awhile and discovered that they lift the noodels and nibble on the as they hang from the chopsticks to the soup. I had a bit of trouble learning how to do this without getting soup all over my face and having noodles drop all over the table. I think I may need some more practice. Now that the first snow has come and gone and the temperatures have fallen it is time to revisit my love of Ramen.

I especially love it at our favorite ski resort. You go to a vending machine, which has pictures of all the dishes, no english, and you put in your money and get a ticket from the machine. You take the ticket to the counter and give it to the guy. Then you go to the next counter to pick up your food. You tend to have to stand in line at each place, one line for the vending machine, one line for the first counter and another line for the second counter. It took me standing in the wrong line several times before I got the system down correctly. Mandy and I were skiing together that day and she ended up not liking the dinner she had chosen and so I only got one or two bites of Ramen that day as I exchanged dinners with her. But, those one or two bites were divine.

I will be missing the Ramen when we leave here. We just got the "RIP" down and have decided to leave here as we are currently scheduled to do in March of 2007. The process of moving in the military is beyond my comprehension. From what I understand about a year before we are scheduled to leave (which would be around now) we are asked if we are wanting to stay at this base or leave as scheduled. Not that they give you what you ask for all the time, but they are kind enough to ask your preference. So we took a family vote and unanimously voted to mark the paper that we want to go. Next we will find out what bases have position available in Jeff's career field at his rank and we will list those bases on our "dream sheet". Then we wait for over a year to find out if any of those bases "pick us up". Only time will tell. The only thing for certain is, well nothing is certain in the military is it. Gotta roll with it.

Japanese Toilets

Saturday we finished up our Christmas shopping. It was also the first snowfall. Nothing spectacular, still a cold day. We were in and out of the car, in and out of stores, and my body temperature was falling. This always makes me have to pee. So we get to the mall, and I race to the bathroom, I sit down and ... a warmed toilet seat. They may not have warm water to wash my hands with in public restrooms but they always have the warm seat. Of course mostly they don't have any seat at all just a squattie, but I know where to find the seats. Sometimes the bathrooms are so cold that the water in the toilet begins to freeze, but the seat is always warm. See how cultured traveling around the world has made me.

19 days till Christmas

I have: finished Christmas shopping. Jeff did most of it.

I need to: get haircut for Friday's Christmas part (adults only) put up the tree, decorate, wrap presents, mail presents, plan and prepare meal, drive around town looking at lights.

What I miss from the US: Family and friends. The Nutcracker, Mandy and I used to go every year, it was always different always beautiful.

In Japan they sell Christmas crap all sorts. Santa stuff, trees, stockings, decorations all sorts. They have a Santa Land complete with a real Santa from Finland. Too bad it is about 5 hours away. It is an amusement park, with rides and such. I laugh when reading the big deal being made in the US right now over Happy Holidays vs. Merry Christmas. Here the only Christians are us Americans and they are celebrating the secular part of Christmas without it offending thier religious sensibilities.

I am so behind in homework, luckily we have a break coming up, so I can catch up. My teacher is really nice about late work, he just gives so much it is hard to catch back up after Thanksgiving. So I best get busy.

Red, red wine

My love of red wine began in Fort Wayne, Indiana. Weird but true. Before moving to Fort Wayne I was a White Zin type of girl or maybe some white wine mixed with a little lemon-lime pop, like 7-up. Not soda, pop! People still laugh at me for saying pop, but oh well.

So my friends in Indiana were television sales people. Sophisticated, nice cars, beautiful cars and great taste. I got to try all the best restaurants and learned to have a nice glass of red wine with my meal. Lovely. It always made my face hot and red and gave me a bit of a headache later, but it really does enhance a meal.

Then I moved to Italy. We lived in Pordenone, which is surrounded by vineyards. I didn't learn to speak Italian during my two years there, except, hello, thank you and a quarter liter of red wine please. The wine was less expensive than water, and about 1/2 the cost of pop. :)

I never got the headache, the hot flushed face; I never even felt the intoxication creeping up on me. It was just so lovely to have a red table wine with my pasta. Lovely. So I thought I would share my very favorite red wine story with you today. Since leaving Italy I haven't enjoyed a single glass of red wine. There I just asked for red wine and was provided with something wonderful to complement my meal. Here I go to the store and try everything and I don't like it at all. It all gives me a headache even the wine from Italy.

One of our favorite things to do in Italy was to go on volksmarches. These are typically German activities but where we lived North of Venice was a part of Austria off and on over the years so many of their customs are a mixture of Italian and German/Austrian. So every Sunday there was a volksmarch. We would go to the nearby town hosting the volksmarch and choose which route we would take, 5K, 12-14K or 20K - we always chose the 14K which is approx 7-8 miles give or take. The town hosting the Volkesmarch would have a route marked out and refreshment stands along the way. This was such a great way to tour a local town. The route took us past all the best views, churches, villas, streams, etc. It was always a lovely way to spend our Sunday mornings. Mandy was always less than trilled.

This particular Volkesmarch took place close to the home of my husband's boss. His wife spoke perfect Italian and they lived in a very small town out in the country. They also happened to live next door to a vineyard and to be friends with the owners. That day, as on all the days I partook of the red wine and cheese at the refreshment stands. Who needs water when there is wine. Nothing like a little dehydration to enhance the buzz. If you know me you know that I need a bit of a buzz to walk 7 miles, there are often hills and mountains on these walks. Basically a volkesmarch is loosely translated to People's march and a bunch of people get together for a walk and to socialize it is very lovely.

At the end of our walk at the last refreshment stand, we were the last people to arrive. Probably me to blame. So the person handing out the refreshments wants Jeff to take a glass of wine, he is the owner of the vineyard and probably didn't want to take it home and didn't want to throw it away. Jeff's Italian wasn't great and he was using the international symbol for driving, you know pretend steering wheel, to say he was driving and therefore couldn't drink. So our lovely refreshment stand guy, dumped out the water in a two liter bottle and filled it with wine to go. It was all warm from sitting in the beautiful sun.

Just then my husband's boss invited us over for a bbq. So we took our wine and sat in the sun and ate bbq hotdogs after a long and lovely walk. It was one of those days where the temperature is perfect. Where you can sit in the sun and feel the warmth on your face and not get too hot. One of those days with a slight breeze. Sitting in the country with friends, between a vineyard and the mountains. Exhausted from the walk, with friends and a lovely red wine buzz, Italian red wine, with no headache, no flushed face.

How will I ever be able to drink red wine again?

Terrible Twos or Maybe Not

After a week of suffering Lily showed signs of improvement on Tuesday. I feel bad for her not feeling well but she sure was in rare form. One time she was watching her favorite cartoon "Bob, the builder" and she would look away from the TV and point at her milk and scream, "milk" in the most pathetic whining voice you have ever hear. Then she would look back at the TV, stop screaming and then look back at the milk and scream. I never knew what she wanted.

It started when she got a hold of a cracker and some germ on the same day. So she had a combo adverse reaction to the cracker and cold. Poor girl. But, we were all quite miserable. So, Tuesday she was great, no screaming the whole day. She seemed human again. At the time I swear it felt like the best day of my life. We talked, we read, we sang, it was all good. So Wednesday it gymnastics and I thought, hey she is better we can go to gymnastics, but really what I forgot was that this is the 5th Wednesday of the month and that means no gymnastics. Last week we missed from the above mentioned sickness and she had been cooped up at home for over a week.

All morning I was talking about gymnastics. At breakfast, "let's finish our banana because we have gymnastics" all the way out the door, "let's get in the car it is time to go to gymnastics". One time, a couple of weeks ago, on the way to gymnastics I thought I could run a quick errand, but who knew that a two year old knows where the turn to gymnastics is and will scream like an alligator bit off her leg if you drive past that turn when you have specifically told her we are on our way to gymnastics. No, today I drove directly to gymnastics. At the door, I kinda remember the 5th week thing but put it out of my mind due to the fact that the door was not locked and there were people in the gym. So there we are getting our shoes off when Miss Jessie tells us, "no gymnastics today, it is the 5th week". I am preparing myself for the screams, which really isn't anything new to the gym, Lily tends to dislike being told what to do and when to do it so we spend a lot of time hearing her piercing screams at gymnastics. So, there is sweet pretty little Miss Lily sitting down patiently holding out her foot to me, saying "shoe off, shoe off" I picked her up and said, "Weasel's Den". This is the spot where we picked up the offending cracker and germs, but it is Miss Lily's favorite spot on earth. It is an indoor play area, due to the fact we have some pretty bad weather here pretty much most of the time.

"I am so sorry sweetie, there is no gymnastics today, let's go to the Weasel's Den, let's go play in the jumpy castle, let's go play with the ball, I love the Weasel's Den" somehow magically this worked and I swooped her to the car, in some pretty outrageously freezing wind. There was no screaming, no fits, just sweet little Miss Lily. So we went to the Weasel's Den. Guess what? It doesn't open for another half an hour. I had taken her out of the car seat, into the freezing wind, and we had walked all the way from the parking lot to the door, only to discover, not open till 10. I am really worried now. What do I do, take her back to the car and listen to the radio for a half and hour? No Lily is not especially fond of her car seat. So I explain to her that it is not yet open and we have to go to the thrift store. I have no idea if she understands me, but she goes along, no worries. We arrive at the thrift store and she was a bit distraught at first until I showed her the toy section. We browsed for half and hour and then went back to the Weasel's Den. I actually was able to drop off the several bags of outgrown clothes that have been in the back of my truck for weeks, so bonus.

Back at the Den we are the only ones there. We played for an hour just the two of us. We jumped in the castle, we went to the indoor soccer field and kicked the ball. We ran and laughed and had a blast. Then just when I am ready to go and pick up a few things at the store, in order to make it home in time for her lunch and nap, just then a ton of kids arrive. A ton of kids her age. So we played for another hour. She had so much fun, but she was exhausted. I still had to go to the store, so I finally had to catch her in the castle and drag her to the car. Still no fits. We shopped and drove home, by now we were an hour and a half past lunch time and a ½ hour past nap time. Still no fits. She did tell me about 100 things she wanted to eat when she got home, and all the hellos she wanted to say to her stuffed animals. So we arrived home, ate and took a nap, finally she screamed, but just for a minute because the girl was so exhausted.

So I am starting to think that her screaming fits from hell are more a result of discomfort from her adverse reaction to certain foods, than a result of being stubborn or terribly two. Not entirely but mostly.