It has become a ritual of mine to take photos of the cemetery here on Fort Leavenworth at various times of day, in different seasons, on holidays, and under certain weather conditions. There’s something about the pristine uniformity of this military cemetery that makes it so beautiful to me. And never is that more true than when the grounds are covered in a blanket of clean, undisturbed snow.
I look at the innumerable headstones and remember that each one represents a living soul: a man, woman or (in some cases) teenager who was willing to take an oath to defend our nation against our enemies.
This post is not as much for the entertainment of my loyal readers as it is solid evidence for JJ to produce when his future therapist asks the question, “So when exactly did the nightmares begin?”
JJ will pull up his shirt sleeve to reveal the smartphone imbedded on his forearm. He’ll say, “Siri, show me the photo.”
Sometimes I’m able to capture my children in a way that—despite my photographic ineptitude—will forever stick in my mind. This is one of those instances.
Well, we had our first snowstorm of the season this week, and I can’t even begin to tell you how excited we’ve all been about it. So, I’ll show you in a photo:
I’m not gonna lie; it was difficult for me to leave PetSmart on Sunday without a bearded dragon (last time it was a fancy rat). I’ve got the itch again, y’all. The itch for another living thing that requires constant care and nurturing. Brian thinks I should quit entertaining this reptilian fantasy and just have another baby already. I don’t know. Bearded dragons sound so much less terrifying than toddlers. And they’re way better at peekaboo.
I got a two-sentence e-mail from my father-in-law last Tuesday that cut right to my heart. Now, a two-sentence e-mail from me would mean that 1) I am sad/disappointed/angry about something or 2) I am sending the message while simultaneously wiping urine off our bathroom wall and my face (true story). However, a two-sentence e-mail from my father-in-law means something else entirely. It means that he is reaching out without wanting to seem intrusive. It means that he took time out of his work-filled schedule to let me know that he’s thinking about me. It means that I had better get back to blogging.
So, when I read, “How are you? Haven’t talked to you lately,” I knew exactly what he was trying to say.
Maybe one day, when she’s finally able to speak in complete sentences, Averi will tell us what she’s thinking in this photo.
I really would love to be one of those people who comes home from a trip, unpacks my suitcase(s) the moment I step foot in the door, throws a load of laundry in the washer before I’ve even taken off my shoes, and then creates a scrapbook or photo album entitled “Summer Family Photo Album” before the memories have faded.
If you know me or have read this blog for more than a week, you know good and well that just isn’t me.
Not even close.
But this past summer was one of the best summers of my life. Maybe the best. Despite the screaming and tantrums, the sleepless nights, the potty training failures, and my miserable attempts at motherhood, I can look back through my thousands of photos from our summer and know that I am blessed far beyond what I expected. And certainly beyond what I have earned. This has been a summer full of grace…in so many ways.
Let’s start here:
If you’ve ever seen the film(s) Paranormal Activity, the following post will probably run through your mind as you try to fall back asleep tomorrow at 3 a.m., and you’ll say, “I hate you, Katy in a Corner, for reminding me of this! And, oh great. Now I’m thinking about Katy standing in a corner of my room, and I’m even MORE freaked out!” And I’ll just laugh and laugh because I “saw” Paranormal Activity on my parents’ TV with ten fingers in front of my face, without my glasses on, and singing “LALALALALALA” at the top of my lungs. And the only thing I could tell you about that film is that the painting that hangs on my parents’ wall close to their TV is really beautiful. Why? Because I’m not an idiot, that’s why.
I don’t watch scary movies because I don’t want to be reminded of them every time I have to use the facilities at 4 a.m.