There hasn't been any change in the situation.
We did hear from The Brother this morning, he is still okay.
He is more optimistic about getting a flight out today, but no one will be surprised if he can't.
We are glad to hear that he is at the airport, the US military is there, along with all the supplies. At least, thank God, he's not roaming the streets.
I just talked to The Husband, who is out of town waiting for his brother to arrive on a plane, he's not sure if he'll still be away tonight or on his way home. He's going to stay there until his brother arrives, even if he only has time to give him a hug and send him on his way (The Brother has to catch another flight to go home to his family).
The Husband said our sister-in-law is having a hard time with this, as I can imagine. I knew it must be so, but it just broke my heart to hear it.
The waiting and wondering are very difficult, indeed.
Edit:
As I wrote this post things were happening!! I checked my email after logging off of blogger, and had received notice that The Brother was finally on a plane!!
Saying a thousand prayers of thanks!!
He's still not quite on his way home, but at least he's out of what must be hell on Earth.
It's a start, and if everything falls into place he may very well be able to give his wife and children a big hug in the next 24 hours!
Praise be to God.
Friday, January 15, 2010
We Watch and Wait
Well, we received some bad news yesterday morning. We learned that The Husband's brother, who travels quite a bit to out-of-the-way places for work, was in Haiti on Tuesday.
Thankfully, his hotel was not damaged too badly in the earthquake, and he is fine. We think some of his coworkers may not have been as lucky, but, like everything else in this chaotic situation, no one knows for sure yet.
Of all the places to be.
We are blessed beyond belief to know that he is alive and mostly well. We know he made it to the Embassy at some point, and he's been able to make contact a few times over the past few days. He's now trying to evacuate. The Husband has flown out to meet him. The Brother's had several reservations on many different flights, but his reservations keep getting pushed back, the planes are so full.
It continues to be a waiting game. When will The Brother get out, when will The Husband get to see him and then come home?
My heart aches.
The news coverage is horrible, gut-wrenching.
The Brother will surely be a changed man, and I feel for him, as I do for everyone there, for all the death and tragedy they must be witnessing.
My heart hurts for everyone in this horrible, horrible situation.
Words cannot describe it. I myself feel shell-shocked, and I have only watched the news coverage on the television while sitting on my couch and having all the comforts of an intact home. I can't even begin to imagine what it must be like to be there.
God has been good to us. He always is, but especially so this week.
Anxiously awaiting to hear that The Brother is on a plane, safe and sound.
Thankfully, his hotel was not damaged too badly in the earthquake, and he is fine. We think some of his coworkers may not have been as lucky, but, like everything else in this chaotic situation, no one knows for sure yet.
Of all the places to be.
We are blessed beyond belief to know that he is alive and mostly well. We know he made it to the Embassy at some point, and he's been able to make contact a few times over the past few days. He's now trying to evacuate. The Husband has flown out to meet him. The Brother's had several reservations on many different flights, but his reservations keep getting pushed back, the planes are so full.
It continues to be a waiting game. When will The Brother get out, when will The Husband get to see him and then come home?
My heart aches.
The news coverage is horrible, gut-wrenching.
The Brother will surely be a changed man, and I feel for him, as I do for everyone there, for all the death and tragedy they must be witnessing.
My heart hurts for everyone in this horrible, horrible situation.
Words cannot describe it. I myself feel shell-shocked, and I have only watched the news coverage on the television while sitting on my couch and having all the comforts of an intact home. I can't even begin to imagine what it must be like to be there.
God has been good to us. He always is, but especially so this week.
Anxiously awaiting to hear that The Brother is on a plane, safe and sound.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Bye bye pageboy, hello buzz cut
Ever since Little Man has had enough hair to actually have a hair style, he's worn it long. During his second year, he had curly little ringlets all over his head. Eventually they became too long and unruly, so I had his hair trimmed, and sadly the ringlets went away and never came back. After that we kind of played around with a few styles for several months. It's turns out that Little Man's hair has just a touch of curl to it, just like his mamma's, and if it's too short it just looks like he has a permanent case of bedhead. So we grew it out, and discovered that Little Man is adorable with long, shaggy hair. It was convenient and easy on the budget, too. We would go several months between haircuts, waiting until the hair was getting in Little Man's eyes. Well, it had been time for Little Man to have a trim for a few weeks now. What with Christmas, then with the Arctic Blast that seemed to have parked itself over our region for weeks on end, we just hadn't gotten around to it. (Seriously, we had a week where the highs didn't even reach 20- in the South -we're just not used to that kind of weather!) Anyway, The Husband decided to go with Little Man for his cut, thinking they could have some father/son time. I gave The Husband explicit instructions to pass onto the stylist. "Just a little trim so it's out of his eyes and has a little shape, but keep it long and a bit shaggy." The Husband repeated it back to me, several times, in fact. So The Husband and Little Man go off together, for a haircut the the reward of a sucker afterwards.
About an hour later they come back. As I watch Little Man walk up the driveway, I notice that he has a new baseball cap on - and that I don't see any hair sticking out from underneath it. "Oh no," I think, "this can't be good." I brace myself for what I know I'm about to see. They walk inside, Little Man takes off his cap, and...
Buzz Cut.
Long, shaggy, adorable pageboy to buzz cut.
Now let me just say, I know it is just hair and I know it will grow back. But nevertheless, when I looked at my sweet baby's head, my heart started to hammer, my stomach became queasy, and a big knot formed in my throat.
My body stayed in that state for a few hours.
The Husband looked at me sheepishly. "I'm so sorry," he said. "She cut it once, but it was all crooked and sticking out funny, so I asked her to take just a little bit more off."
Then he said, "The next thing I knew, she had a razor out and had shaved a big stripe in the back of his head. What was I going to do, she had already done it?"
I told him there was nothing he could do, after all, I had taken Little Man to a haircut or two where they cut it way shorter than I had asked them to. (but they never shaved it, shaved a pageboy, I still don't get it!)
However, I did tell him he should have protested and then refused to pay, I mean, telling the stylist to trim a little but keep it long and a bit shaggy does not in any way, shape, or form mean pull out a razor.
Sigh.
Well, the good news is that Little Man loves his new hair. He looks at himself in the mirror, get a big and wide smile on his face, and says his hair looks like Daddy's, which it does.
I'm getting used to it, too, and I'm actually starting to like it a bit, but from now on I think I will take Little Man for his haircuts!
About an hour later they come back. As I watch Little Man walk up the driveway, I notice that he has a new baseball cap on - and that I don't see any hair sticking out from underneath it. "Oh no," I think, "this can't be good." I brace myself for what I know I'm about to see. They walk inside, Little Man takes off his cap, and...
Buzz Cut.
Long, shaggy, adorable pageboy to buzz cut.
Now let me just say, I know it is just hair and I know it will grow back. But nevertheless, when I looked at my sweet baby's head, my heart started to hammer, my stomach became queasy, and a big knot formed in my throat.
My body stayed in that state for a few hours.
The Husband looked at me sheepishly. "I'm so sorry," he said. "She cut it once, but it was all crooked and sticking out funny, so I asked her to take just a little bit more off."
Then he said, "The next thing I knew, she had a razor out and had shaved a big stripe in the back of his head. What was I going to do, she had already done it?"
I told him there was nothing he could do, after all, I had taken Little Man to a haircut or two where they cut it way shorter than I had asked them to. (but they never shaved it, shaved a pageboy, I still don't get it!)
However, I did tell him he should have protested and then refused to pay, I mean, telling the stylist to trim a little but keep it long and a bit shaggy does not in any way, shape, or form mean pull out a razor.
Sigh.
Well, the good news is that Little Man loves his new hair. He looks at himself in the mirror, get a big and wide smile on his face, and says his hair looks like Daddy's, which it does.
I'm getting used to it, too, and I'm actually starting to like it a bit, but from now on I think I will take Little Man for his haircuts!
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Melt my heart...
Little Man has been having a rough time lately.
I'm not sure what it is, maybe it's just that he's three and a half, or maybe it's that with Christmas and the fact that his school has been closed since mid-December, we have "lost" our routine.
Lately, though, there are more days than not that he's just so out of sorts and, well, seemingly miserable.
There have been tantrums, and the testing, testing, TESTING of boundaries.
Unfortunately, I have not handled this new rebellious behavior with the grace and the patience that I would have expected of myself. There have been more time-outs than I would like. Some of these are short-lived, three minutes on the bottom step of the staircase, and some longer, of the "Go to your room" variety. I have thrown a few temper tantrums myself. I try so hard not to, but when Little Man is throwing a tantrum and Baby Girl is crying or getting into something, and dinner is on the stove, then my inner tantrum tends to try to break out - and unfortunately it often does.
One of Little Man's issues right now has to do with bedtime (and mealtime, potting, snacking, and tv, but we'll stick to bedtime for this post). He doesn't want to go to sleep in his room, he wants to sleep on the couch or in Mommy and Daddy's room. Well, of course that's not gonna fly, I mean Mommy and Daddy need the kids to go to sleep in their own beds so we can get a few things done around here. These days there is typically a tantrum of the kicking and screaming variety at bedtime. The bedtime that we used to have - stories, songs, lots of cuddles, hugs, kisses, and love - is a rare treat. It's been replaced by the grownups trying to wrangle at 40 lb preschooler into bed and getting him to stay there.
The bedtime routine last night started out just fine. Daddy read books, Little Man drank his "chocky milk," I helped him brush his teeth, we sang songs, said prayers, and gave hugs and kissed goodnight. Then, when The Husband and I started to go downstairs, the tantrum started. It was a doozy. The Husband and I were tired, and we just decided to ignore the tantrum. We said goodnight, closed the baby gate, went downstairs, and just let the tantrum burn itself out.
It was so hard.
Later, when Little Man finally fell asleep, we went to check on him. He was deep asleep, but his breath was still hitching and catching, like he was still upset. It made me want to cry.
The Husband and I talked, "What are we going to do? What's going on, why is he doing this?"
Well, there has been more stress than usual in the house. I'm sure Little Man is picking up on it. It's been bitterly cold outside, it's been a month (or two) since we've played in the backyard, gone to the park, or the playground. I don't like to let the kids play on indoor playgrounds, it seems like there are always kids coughing, sneezing, and wiping snot all over the play equipment.
Whatever the reason for Little Man's behavior, The Husband and I felt bad. I don't know why exactly, I think we just feel like there is something we should be doing for Little Man that we're not.
When we finally crawled into bed ourselves we looked at each other and both said, "do you want to go get him, let him sleep with us?" We decided "no," let's not encourage a bad habit. But by the time I turned out the light, I had to go get him. I just felt it in my gut that Little Man needed to be thrown a bone, and that this was it.
So I went upstairs, picked him up, and carried him downstairs. As we were walking, he woke up just a little bit. The sweetest little smile lit up his face. I said, "Well, hello, sweet smile. Why are you smiling, Little Man?" He looked up at me and said in his sweet, half-asleep voice, "Because you love me."
Talk about a momma's heart melting all over the place.
I'm not sure what it is, maybe it's just that he's three and a half, or maybe it's that with Christmas and the fact that his school has been closed since mid-December, we have "lost" our routine.
Lately, though, there are more days than not that he's just so out of sorts and, well, seemingly miserable.
There have been tantrums, and the testing, testing, TESTING of boundaries.
Unfortunately, I have not handled this new rebellious behavior with the grace and the patience that I would have expected of myself. There have been more time-outs than I would like. Some of these are short-lived, three minutes on the bottom step of the staircase, and some longer, of the "Go to your room" variety. I have thrown a few temper tantrums myself. I try so hard not to, but when Little Man is throwing a tantrum and Baby Girl is crying or getting into something, and dinner is on the stove, then my inner tantrum tends to try to break out - and unfortunately it often does.
One of Little Man's issues right now has to do with bedtime (and mealtime, potting, snacking, and tv, but we'll stick to bedtime for this post). He doesn't want to go to sleep in his room, he wants to sleep on the couch or in Mommy and Daddy's room. Well, of course that's not gonna fly, I mean Mommy and Daddy need the kids to go to sleep in their own beds so we can get a few things done around here. These days there is typically a tantrum of the kicking and screaming variety at bedtime. The bedtime that we used to have - stories, songs, lots of cuddles, hugs, kisses, and love - is a rare treat. It's been replaced by the grownups trying to wrangle at 40 lb preschooler into bed and getting him to stay there.
The bedtime routine last night started out just fine. Daddy read books, Little Man drank his "chocky milk," I helped him brush his teeth, we sang songs, said prayers, and gave hugs and kissed goodnight. Then, when The Husband and I started to go downstairs, the tantrum started. It was a doozy. The Husband and I were tired, and we just decided to ignore the tantrum. We said goodnight, closed the baby gate, went downstairs, and just let the tantrum burn itself out.
It was so hard.
Later, when Little Man finally fell asleep, we went to check on him. He was deep asleep, but his breath was still hitching and catching, like he was still upset. It made me want to cry.
The Husband and I talked, "What are we going to do? What's going on, why is he doing this?"
Well, there has been more stress than usual in the house. I'm sure Little Man is picking up on it. It's been bitterly cold outside, it's been a month (or two) since we've played in the backyard, gone to the park, or the playground. I don't like to let the kids play on indoor playgrounds, it seems like there are always kids coughing, sneezing, and wiping snot all over the play equipment.
Whatever the reason for Little Man's behavior, The Husband and I felt bad. I don't know why exactly, I think we just feel like there is something we should be doing for Little Man that we're not.
When we finally crawled into bed ourselves we looked at each other and both said, "do you want to go get him, let him sleep with us?" We decided "no," let's not encourage a bad habit. But by the time I turned out the light, I had to go get him. I just felt it in my gut that Little Man needed to be thrown a bone, and that this was it.
So I went upstairs, picked him up, and carried him downstairs. As we were walking, he woke up just a little bit. The sweetest little smile lit up his face. I said, "Well, hello, sweet smile. Why are you smiling, Little Man?" He looked up at me and said in his sweet, half-asleep voice, "Because you love me."
Talk about a momma's heart melting all over the place.
Monday, January 4, 2010
The Holidays are Certainly Over
It's only January 4th, but oh how I already miss the chocolate peppermint milkshake from Chick-Fil-A and Starbucks' peppermint mocha. My waistline doesn't miss you, but my taste buds certainly do. Already looking forward to next year. Mmmmm....
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Another Little Manism
Yesterday my parents, the kids, and I drove to Arkansas to see part of our family for Christmas. We told Little Man a few days in advance that we were going, and, while he wasn't sure what a trip to Arkansas actually entailed, the promise and excitement of an adventure were almost more than he could bear. Well, the trip was a good one, with family, food, and, of course, presents. A lot of fun, but nothing too exciting, nothing too out of the ordinary. Lots of time in the car. When we arrived back home, Little Man ran to his daddy (who had to stay in town to work) and said, "Daddy, we went to Arkansas, and it was fun!" Then a very confused, very concerned, and somewhat sad look came across his face, and he said, "but we didn't see any great big, giant saws."
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Little Manisms
This morning Little Man said, "Mooabunga!"
As in "Cowabunga," from the Teenage Mutant Ninga Turtles.
I'm guessing that he couldn't exactly remember the phrase (I'm not even sure where he heard it!), but remembered it had something to do with cows, cows say "moo"..... and thus
"Mooabunga."
Life is fun with a preschooler!
As in "Cowabunga," from the Teenage Mutant Ninga Turtles.
I'm guessing that he couldn't exactly remember the phrase (I'm not even sure where he heard it!), but remembered it had something to do with cows, cows say "moo"..... and thus
"Mooabunga."
Life is fun with a preschooler!
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