What's for Easter? The in-laws...yum

Time to start cleaning.
My in-laws are getting here tomorrow from Ohio. And they are staying for five days. Ohio. Round on the ends and "hi" in the middle.

We haven't seen them since Thanksgiving. They are very sweet and very old school. My father-in-law repeats his jokes and stories, including saying that he needs to get new grandkids, ones who haven't heard all his jokes before, not that he needs new jokes. Har har. My mother-in-law says exactly what she thinks. There isn't much filtering. It makes it very easy to know where she stands. Very. For better or worse, it's out there.

My father-in-law likes to have political "discussions" with my husband and the two are mostly opposites.  (My in-laws have a lovely signed photo of the Bushes right inside the front door of their home.) The debate style is less than refined. It's not pretty. I walk away, and my mother-in-law usually follows. My husband can't resist, he is like a moth drawn to the flame... "look away from the light," I say... but, no. They will never sway each other to another way of thinking, I guess it's like a sport.

The kids love seeing their grandparents. The grandparents love to play lots of games. A common invitation is, "Who wants to get beat at Rummy?" Or Euchre? Or Dominoes? Or Go fish? Or Othello? Or... You get the picture. They love their games.

All that unbridled, unrestrained honesty and opinion will certainly come out in one way (or a million) with regard to the Foreign Service. I have discussed this before in a previous post and it was discussed in EF'M: The life of an FSO Spouse. It is tricky, explaining why we are doing this, something different, something unfathomable to people who want us close and accessible. Moving to unknown places, meeting unknown people, learning unknown languages. (Yeah, I know, smarty-pants, they aren't unknown, except to us.) I think my in-laws are perfectly happy knowing the people that they know now, up to this point in their lives, why would they need to meet anyone else? Go anywhere else? They've got six kids. That's six places to visit. That's enough.

I am getting myself prepared for the question to be asked (again), "Why in the world would you want to go and drag your family around the world? Is anything wrong with right here? Personally, I don't see why people are so gung-ho about travel."

"Did I ever tell you the one about the priest and the..."

Emotional

Last night I started off a little weepy, then I cried. And cried. And cried. The full water works.

Sometimes that happens I guess. It hit like a wave ... more like a tsunami.

D.I.Y.

This photo was from last week. This is B. He's 9. Nice hair, huh?

I found these baby fingernail scissors on the floor Thursday night when going to bed.

"Hmm," I thought, "Maybe B cut off the itchy tag on his PJ's."

The next morning I realized that B had given himself a haircut. He said that he couldn't stand the feel of the hair on his forehead. So he cut it off. Right up close to the scalp. Just in the front. And he left the hair in a horror show murder scene in the bathroom sink. 

He had to go to school like that on Friday too. With the sides longish and the front to the scalp. Poor kid.

Here is after the barber fixed the do-it-yourself job. I didn't have the heart to take a picture of the chop B did. His eyes were all teared up. Love that kid. He just couldn't stand the hair on his forehead one second longer. 

Kids make you laugh sometimes. Speaking of laughter, this weekend my husband and I went out to dinner and a comedy club and laughed until our stomaches hurt. It was so much fun to laugh that hard. Laughter is good medicine.

How do I prep the grandparents?

This was lunch for C. today. Creative, huh?

Who says I'm not using my expensive art school degrees?

Kiwi for eyes, banana and peanut butter for the mouth, with raisins for the teeth and eyelashes and jalapeno pepper jack cheese for the nose (w/ crackers too). My girl has a self-proclaimed "spicy tooth."

Here is C. reading about Syracuse and Cornell losing last night. "Why is he crying, Mama?" Well, let's talk about turnovers, honey.

So the three kids are going to my Dad and step-mom's again this weekend. My Dad has not said ONE word about the Foreign Service in months. It has been a noticeably absent topic of conversations with me. I think he disapproves. But he is not saying. He just keeps asking for the kids every few weeks. I think he's stocking up on kid-time.

How do you deal with parents and grandparents who may think you are abandoning them and taking away the grandkids by joining the Foreign Service? What's the best approach to take? My father says nothing. My mom has remained (outwardly) positive and encouraging. But I'm her only child. She's single. These are her only grandkids. So, I have guilt. Always with the guilt...

Advice? Teach them how to skype now maybe?

Walking.

I like to walk.

I walk with my dog. Today we walked along a river, through an old cemetery, through a village, through a park, along a canal, over some locks, down a spit of land with water on both sides. We were just walking along. I walk in any season, but am happiest now that almost all the snow is finally melted. We have woods all around our house. And ponds. And paths. And trails. I walk them. I walk through cemeteries. I walk up hills, I walk through wetlands, through meadows. I am a woman who likes to walk with her dog. I like to think while I walk. But the thinking is so effortless that I don't even remember what I thought about, just that I thought about stuff and the sun shone and the dog was always at my side.

I do not like to run.
But I think I should like to run. I think I should be the kind of person who runs and runs and thinks and sweats and trains for something... but running just hurts. I had meniscus surgery on my knee last year so running makes me a little nervous too. Plus you have to wear the special uni-boob bra, so that's no fun. I can't relax and let my mind wander. When I run I just think, "Can't...get enough...air. Shins hurt."

My husband runs. Fast. Up hills. And he likes it. Weird, right? He "trains" for things. Races.

I know nobody is judging me. Sometimes I jog, but mostly, I just like to walk. So why do I feel like I should want to run? Maybe I just want to be able to brag that I'm in training.

The Loop

I appreciate all the encouraging and supportive comments that came from my previous post about waiting and the uncertainty of being on the register. I am amazed at the wonderful community of the FS. I hope to join your ranks soon. Thank you.

I feel like I am stuck in a loop. I'm not sure how to plan or think "forward." I keep asking my husband, "This FS thing is going to happen, right?" He's getting so he just nods like a bobble-head. I mean I KEEP asking. Like, "Good morning, how'd you sleep? It's going to happen, right?" Or, "Would you like more ravioli? You'll get called, right?" Or, "Wanna turn on the S.U. game? You think you'll get called, but when?" (By the way, go Orange! And hello? Cornell?) Or, "You need to pick up your car from the shop before work. You think it'll happen, right?" I think I might be driving him a little crazy.

My kids had no school on Friday so I took them to a lake nearby for some fun and playing outdoors. We brought along the dog. We had fun. It was sunny and gorgeous. I didn't think about the loop for the day.

Oh, who am I kidding?

I did.

I thought about it...

This is so pretty. It is so close to our house. The kids love it here. Will we get called? When? What if we don't? Will we get called? Will we get called?Will we get called?Will we get called?Will we get called?willwewillwewillwewillwillwill...

No. Maybe. Yes. Well...

This waiting is unbearable. I know we won't get called. It is all a waste of time. The last year has been por nada. We shouldn't have bothered with the FS.

Then again maybe we will get called. You never know. It could happen, just wait. Patience. Practice German. Pass the test. Try to enjoy life each and every day, regardless...blah-dee, friggin', blah, blah, blah. Maybe even without the language it'll all work out. Hm.

Yes, it will work out. We will get called. For sure. It will happen. Get ready. This is a sure thing.

Then again, maybe not. Yes. No. Yes. Oh, dammit. Check the A-100 board. No don't check, yeah, check...

Welcome to my brain.

It's not squirrel nests, but it's close, it's the real deal.