A Marine wife

Three boys

2011-05-08T19:58:00.000-07:00

It still blows my mind that I would have 3 boys, the oldest turning 9 this year. Our Glenn passed away 3 days before Mother's Day in 2004, and we held his memorial service on Mother's Day of that year. I know that seems skewed, going to your baby's funeral on Mother's Day. I wondered, "Am I still a mother even though I lost my only child?" That Mother's Day was a chance for me to celebrate the life of the child I had just lost, and ever since then and after the addition of 2 more phenomenal boys to our family, the meaning of Mother's Day for me is something I just cannot put into words adequately. It is the sadness and grief of losing a child, the peace of knowing he is now healthy and happy and not suffering in a broken body like he was here on earth. It is the comfort of knowing we will see him again one day. It is a feeling of being blessed to have been able to love him and take care of him. It is looking at the 2 beautiful boys we have now and feeling lucky and blessed to have them as well as watching them grow, laugh, play, and be "all boy." How lucky are we to have Glennie, Jeff, and Jack!

There is a Bible verse that has been rolling around in my head for the past several days. It is 1 Corinthians 13:12.

"For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known."

We don't know the reason our little Glenn died. We know that it was to make us better in some way or ways and perhaps to help other people who knew him be better. I believe that in the end, everything God does is for good, even though it is sometimes hard to wrap my brain around what could be good about suffering. In the book "One Thousand Gifts," Anne Voskamp writes about Exodus 33:22-23 where God says to Moses, "When my glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft in the rock and cover you with my hand until I have passed by. Then I will remove my hand and you will see my back."

Anne writes, "Is that it? When it gets dark, it's only because God has tucked me in a cleft of the rock and covered me, protected, with His hand? In the pitch, I feel like I'm falling, sense the bridge giving way, God long absent. In the dark, the bridge and my world shake, cracking dreams. But maybe this is true reality: It is in the dark that God is passing by. The bridge and our lives shake not because God has abandoned, but the exact opposite: God is passing by. God is in the tremors. Dark is the holiest ground, the glory passing by. In the blackest, God is closest, at work, forging His perfect and right will. Though it is black and we can't see and our world seems to be free-falling and we feel utterly alone, Christ is most present to us, I-beam supporting in earthquake. Then He will remove His hand. Then we will look. Then we look back and see His back."

I always think of how Glennie would be 8. He probably would have long ago insisted we no longer call him Glennie but Glenn. Then I think, "Would we have had Jeff and Jack if Glennie had been alive?" Who knows. Who knows how life would have turned out if things were different. That's the thing about life. Are there really any "what if's?" Back when Glennie was first diagnosed with Spinal Muscular Atrophy and we were told he wouldn't live to see his 2nd birthday, I would think, "What if he were healthy? Where would we be now, where would we be going, if our sweet baby was not terminally ill?" It wasn't long before I realized that there was no such thing as "what if's." This had always been God's plan, for whatever reasons we may not understand now, that now we may know only "in part." Though I know this had always been His plan, I still wonder what Glennie would be like today and imagine him interacting with his brothers. Despite everything we have been through, I still have trust. I trust that God knows what is best for me, even when life is tumbling down. I trust that He is there when I can't see through the blackness. I trust that someday I will "know fully."

It Is Bug Season

2010-09-15T21:11:00.000-07:00

I will start from the beginning.....

This afternoon in the living room, the boys thought it would be a good idea to take off their shirts and throw them up into the air. By the time they responded to my attempts to get them to stop, Jack's shirt had gotten stuck on the nonmoving ceiling fan. I figured I would get it later and went about my business for the afternoon.

That night after watching the season premiere of Survivor, we moved on to an episode of MasterChef that we had recorded earlier. During a commercial break, Glenn went outside to smoke, leaving me in charge of pausing the show when it came back on. As I sat and let the commercials play through, the cat caught my eye. She was batting something around on the floor, and I watched as she perched on a case of bottled water, and then in a very Jackie Chan-like manner, rolled smoothly off the case and onto the floor to take another swing at her prey. Now, I HATE bugs, and we have a rash of absolutely huge, disgusting roaches in our house lately because we live in Pensacola, FL. Lucky me, this is what she was batting around. I sat on the couch, terrified and trying not to hyperventilate, with my hands over my mouth and my toes curled up, glancing continuously at the back door to see when Glenn would be coming in. The cat stopped to stare at me as if I was the funniest thing she had ever seen. Glenn came in then, cleaned up the (hopefully) dead monster bug, and we resumed the show. At the next commercial break, Glenn got up to take the dog out and asked if I would put his sneakers away in the front closet. I picked up the shoes and headed towards the closet, flicking the numerous switches by the front door to find the right light. After putting away the shoes and closing the closet door, I turned around in time to see something ENORMOUS fly through the air and land in our large living room chair. I screamed and screamed and flew halfway up the stairs, away from the monster that had flown across our living room. I stood halfway up the steps where I could see the living room but was far enough away from the chair (I hoped), as Glenn ran in the back door, thinking from my screaming that someone was breaking into the house. When I told him it was "merely" a bug, he went back out to finish with the dog before coming in to take care of it. As I stood there on the steps scared out of my wits and looking over the living room, I became aware of 2 things: The living room fan was on, and there was a small shirt crumpled up on the floor in front of the living room chair. What I had seen flying through the air was no roach, it was a little, size 3T shirt that had been thrown off the fan as it reached max speed. As I stood there laughing harder than I have in a while, I wondered how mad Glenn would be over the fact that I had screamed bloody murder over a little red shirt. When he came back in, I still maintained that he look over the chair just to be sure, and sure enough, there was nothing there.

This will serve as a reminder to me in the future to remove all articles of clothing from ceiling fans, especially during bug season.

September 11, 2001

2010-09-13T05:06:00.000-07:00

There are basically 2 days in my life where the little details remain in my memory, and the emotions from that day can be experienced again with stark clarity. One is the day our precious Glenn III died, and the other is September 11, 2001. Both were days rife with fear, tragedy, and devastation in similar and in different ways.

For most people, the morning of September 11 was just another ordinary day. The people of Manhattan had no reason to think they would be doing anything other than going to work, clocking in, and carrying on with their day. Little did we all know.....

For Glenn and I, it was a morning of getting up early. We had been visiting his parents for that past week in New Jersey and were due that morning to take the 2-3 hour drive to Baltimore, MD, to catch our flight back to San Diego. Our flight from Baltimore would be connecting in New York first before heading to California. We got up that morning, said our goodbyes to Glenn's mom, and headed out with his father.

At the airport, we approached the lady at the ticketing desk to check our luggage. With tears in her eyes, she told us a plane had hit the World Trade Center. Like many other people I am sure, Glenn and I automatically thought that a small plane had hit the WTC in a tragic and unfortunate accident. We made our way through security and to our gate, where we began watching the news coverage of the events on the TV in the terminal. As we watched the events unfold, two things quickly became very clear: We would not be going anywhere and, more importantly, this was no accident. By now, a second plane had hit the twin towers, and we watched, horrified, as flight 77 hit the Pentagon. The airport was by now a flurry of activity, to say the least, filled with stranded travelers. People were rushing around and frantically talking on cell phones, sharing the horrible news of the attacks and making other travel arrangements. Glenn and I left the gate and were trying to get a hold of family members, with no luck. At this point, there were so many thoughts racing through my mind as we scurried around the airport in addition to the feeling of horrified shock of knowing that a large number of people had just been savagely murdered in an absolutely unimaginable way. I wanted to get out of there badly and felt scared and unsafe. Another thought that was racing through my mind was that I knew that it was an excellent possibility that my Marine was going to be mobilized. I knew as soon he saw the planes hit the towers, he was ready to go. He was ready to fight. We had only been married for months, and I knew I had to be ready.

We were still rushing around the Baltimore airport, trying to figure out how we would get out of there and get back to my in-laws house. We still could not get a hold of anybody. Then, out of the blue as we were making our way through huge crowds of shocked, frantic travelers at the baggage claim, my father-in-law rushed up to us. He had been on the 2-or-so-hour drive back to Jersey when he heard the news reports on the radio. He had stopped at a rest stop called the Maryland House to see for himself what was going on via the TVs at the rest stop. At that point, he got back in the car, turned around, and headed back to the airport to get us. Without us ever having gotten a hold of him, it was a miracle that he found us in the crowds at the airport. I will never forget the relief of seeing my father-in-law at that moment.

We got in the car and headed back to my in-laws house. We spent the rest of the day in a state of shock and despair, watching news coverage and discussing how and when we would get back home to San Diego. Glenn and I both called work to tell them we would not be there for a while and didn't know exactly when we would be back.

That night, we attended an impromptu prayer meeting at our church that had been called together that day. I distinctly remember the sense of fear, anger, and insecurity I carried around that day and for the days afterwards. Any sense of safety and security I had previously felt had been shattered. Would we ever be safe again? Where would we go from here?

About 5 days later, Glenn and I rented a car and started the 4-day trip back home to San Diego. Air travel, I believe, was still shut down, and at that point we didn't want to fly, anyway. It was a different time, and life as I had known it would never be the same. The American people had been attacked, almost 3,000 people were murdered, and how many more family members and loved ones affected by death. I knew we had not been directly involved in the attacks on our country, and we did not know anyone who had died as a result, but life was still different and would never be the same. Although, the coming together, strength, and resolve of the American people in the weeks and months after September 11, 2001, was uplifting and encouraging.

Nine years later, the shock of that day is still there when I watch footage of the attacks, as well as the devastation and anger. I don't think that will ever change. I don't need to watch footage to remember the blueness of that September sky, or the thick, black smoke drifting into the sky. I don't need footage to remember the images of the bright orange flames powered by jet fuel, of people jumping to their deaths from 78+ floors, of the incomprehensible, immense clouds of gray dust and debris overpowering the streets of Manhattan as the towers collapsed, or of the smoldering crater in a Pennsylvania field. I hope that we will always be shocked and angered at the evil that invaded our lives that day, and for the sake of the 2,977 Americans that violently perished that day, I hope that we will never, ever forget. It started as just an ordinary day......

In the Blink of an Eye

2010-03-23T12:19:00.000-07:00

I recently read somewhere that as a child of God, death is a promotion. That is a perfect way to put it, in my opinion. However, to those of us left behind when a loved one dies, it is so difficult to see anything but the heart-wrenching pain and hopelessness. I know when Glennie died, I had so many questions. "Why?" "What am I going to do now?" "How do I live with this?" Suddenly, life was not just different, it was changed forever, never to go back to the way it was, not even a little bit. It was new, unfamiliar and, unwanted. We were happy that Glennie had been "promoted," was no longer suffering, no longer had to struggle to breathe, and never had to feel pain or fear again. However, as those left behind, we knew we were embarking on a lifelong struggle with the pain and sorrow of losing him.

Last week, the world lost a great man. He was taken suddenly, and many, many lives were changed in the blink of an eye. From what I have seen and heard about him, I know that he was a hard-working young man of God with a happy spirit, who was a loving and devoted husband, father, son, friend, and teacher. He was killed in a car accident last week that left his family, friends, students, and a church family reeling. I am sorry to say I did not really know him, but I still find myself shocked that this happened, and my heart still breaks for those who love him. I know the pain of being left behind after the death of someone I love, but I am still shaking my head in disbelief, not being able to comprehend the pain of a young woman who has just lost her husband. I know the pain of preparing for the funeral of someone I never thought I would ever have to bury, but like so many others, I just struggle to comprehend this. He also leaves behind a young daughter and an unborn child. He had so much life ahead of him, and so much to look forward to. It is so easy to forget that God has his own plans that oftentimes are quite different from our own. I learned this through Glennie's illness and through his death, but at times like these, there are so many questions that go left unanswered. I know, though, that the key to this is faith. It brings to mind Romans 8:28, which says, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose." Yet, through the devastating, world-altering pain of being left behind, it is hard to see anything good about it. Dr. James Dobson says,

"First, it must be noted from this Scripture that Paul didn't say all things were good. He wasn't claiming that death, sickness, and sorrow were really positives in disguise. But he did tell us that God has promised to take these hardships and bring good from them. As long as what happens to me is within the perfect will of the Father, I have no reason to fear — even if it costs me my life. It is an article of our faith that we can trust Him to do what is best, even if it appears contrary to our own wishes or the prevailing attitudes of the day."

I am not sure I understand how people get by without this knowledge and the faith that God knows best. I am not sure how we get through dealing with death without the knowledge that God loves us and knows what is best for us. The pain of suffering will probably last for a long time, but not forever. God's wisdom and extreme love for us, however, is indefinite.

I know this young man, Jon, is in Heaven, and it is so easy to see the positive effect he had in the lives of so many people. If you are reading this, please join me in praying for those left behind; his wife Amy, their young daughter and unborn child, his parents, brothers, in-laws, and countless friends.

In Honor of my Glennie

2010-02-05T10:36:00.000-08:00

Right and Wrong

2009-08-08T14:56:00.000-07:00

As some of you reading this may know, our firstborn son, Glenn III, was diagnosed at the age of 6 months with a terminal genetic disease called Spinal Muscular Atrophy type 1, also known as Werdnig-Hoffmann disease. Children with Werdnig-Hoffmann typically do not make it to the age of 2. This disease affects voluntary muscle movement, and because it is a progressive disease with no cure, the muscles continue to get weaker and weaker. Children with this disease cannot lift up there head, roll over, sit up, or walk, and as the disease progresses, they lose the ability to swallow and the respiratory muscles get weaker, eventually leading to respiratory arrest. Our precious Glennie passed away when he was 20 months old, and our time with him on this earth was exceptionally short. As I said above, children with SMA type 1 typically do not make it to the age of 2, but there are exceptions. There are children who have beaten the odds and are now 4 or 10 or even 22 years old.

My sister-in-law, Sarah, has stage III brain cancer. She is a beautfiul and all-around amazing woman, wife, and mother of 3.

It makes me livid and sick that under Obama"care," people like Glennie and Sarah as well as anyone with a disease classified as "terminal" will not get the care they need. They will have no hope, as they are "doomed" anyway. I am so extremely thankful beyond words that we did not have this plan while Glennie was alive and that we were able to get him the medical care that he so badly needed. I am exceptionally thankful for the already-too-short time we had with him, and that that time was not cut shorter than it was. I am thankful that we did not have to sit and watch him starve to death because we would have been unable to get him into surgery for a gastric tube when he became unable to eat by mouth. According to this "kill bill," he would have been expendable just like anyone else with a termianl disease, and just like our elderly with health issues that have gone beyond a certain point. And how about the funding for abortions? We can pay to kill our unborn, and to save money on healthcare we can kill those who are supposedly beyond hope.

I honestly can say that I have never been so angry at something in all my life. This bill is as un-American as it gets. I will admit that I do not understand much about politics, even though I have been married to a staunch conservative for the past 8 years who amazes me everyday with how much he knows. But in my politically-limited mind, I know that this kill bill is a bunch of bunk, to put it lightly, and is completely and utterly wrong. It is moral-less and thoughtless. To quote Glenn Beck, this health care plan is not about health or caring. This shouldn't be about right or left, Democrat or Conservative. To me, no matter who you are it is simply about right and wrong, and we need to do whatever we can to make sure this bill does not pass. Babies will die, and our loved ones who need good medical care will not get it.

And one last thing: I wonder what would happen if President Obama ever was diagnosed with one of the many "hopeless" diseases. Would he be able to get treatment? I think so, as he is apparently not as expendable as the rest of us are. You better not get sick, people, or you become a liability to society and will lose your right to life.

Knock, knock

2009-07-19T14:44:00.000-07:00

Our two year old has starting telling knock knock jokes. He learned them from Jeff, and it is the funniest thing to watch Jack tell his "jokes." This is how it goes:

Jack: Gock, gock (pushing his fist out in front of him as if he is banging on a door).
Me: Who's there?
Jack: Appow (apple).
Me: Apple who?
(a pause)
Jack: Gock, gock.
Me: Who's there?
Jack: Appow.
Me: Apple who?
(another pause)
Jack: Gock, gock.
Me: Who's there?
Jack: 'Ana (banana).
Me: Banana who?

And so on and so forth.. He learned the joke from Jeff, but actually it is Jack's version of the old "orange and banana" knock knock joke. The other day, I asked Jack if he wanted orange juice with his breakfast, and he paused for a moment and then said, "Gock, gock!" ready to launch into the joke at the sound of the word "orange." The boy never fails to amuse us.

Pee pee in the potty!!

2009-07-03T15:09:00.000-07:00

I would just like to write a quick note to mark this momentous occasion. Jack went pee in the potty! We got him some Elmo big-boy underwear and put them on him after we got back from the beach today and, I might add, after he had already peed on the rug upstairs. About 20 minutes later, I asked him if he had to go pee, and he said yes. Glenn put him on the potty, and the rest is history. Yay, Jack! I will be so ecstatic to not have to buy diapers anymore, at least, and then to not have to constantly clean up his messies.

July 4th

2009-07-03T09:45:00.001-07:00

Hey everyone, I know I don't post here very often, but I had some things to say, and I don't have my own blog.

Today is Friday, July 3rd, the day before what should be the most celebrated holiday on the calander for every American. However, I have really heard very little about it this year. I have become concerned in the past couple years about my country. Not about the economy, not about the jobless numbers, not even about N. Korea or Iran. I am concerned about the lack of patriotism in America today.

I remember growing up, July 4th, it was a lesson in patriotism from my father, and the fireworks. I never had a doubt that my father was proud of his country, even after coming home from Vietnam to the rediculous "welcome" our wonderful American people gave him (being spit on, called a baby killer, etc...) my father never lost his pride in his country. From a very early age, both my parents instilled in me a great sence of pride in America. Now, I see kids (early 20's) who think that the Canadian health care system is better then the greatest healthcare system in the world. I see people who think France and Germany's social programs are "the way it should be". When did this happen? The only thing I can think is that as parents, we are not doing enough to instill the values of patriotism into our children.

Tomorrow, I will be taking my children to the fireworks. But I will ensure they know why we are celebrating. Great men fought and shed blood for this great country. The least we can do is pass it on to our children.

Glenn Sinclair

NO MORE!!!

2009-07-02T22:23:00.000-07:00

For at least 6 months now, our now 2-year-old, Jack, has been taking off his diapers quite often. At first, it seemed like he was just doing it because he could, but I have reached the point where I simply will go crazy if I have to clean up any more poop or pee. I tried putting them on backwards, using Pull-Ups, putting onesies or one-piece pajamas on him (which was really the only thing that worked, but it is currently way too hot to put those PJs on him). This morning, he had taken off his poopy diaper when he woke up and then sat on his brother's bed. After I put him to bed this evening, he took it upon himself to take his diaper off before he went to sleep, and when I went to check on him, his sheet was soaked. NO MORE, I say. NO MORE. I think we are going to try with him what we did with older brother Jeff. When we potty-trained Jeff, we just threw some underwear on him and took away the diapers. After a few accidents, he got the hang of it after just a few days. It sure beat putting him in Pull-Ups for several months beforehand, which didn't do a thing. I figure it can't hurt to start the potty training process, since I am always cleaning up after him anyhow. He might as well be learning something as long as I have to clean up his "messes."

Losing a child

2009-06-26T15:29:00.000-07:00

Last week, my husband came home from work and told me something devastating. A Marine he worked with in San Diego (and whom I had met at the squadron Christmas party along with her two little girls) was set to be stationed here in Pensacola. The Marine, Delia, was on leave visiting family in the Midwest and was going to be headed down here when she was in a tragic car accident. She was in the car with her two young daughters, ages 2 and 4. Delia was critically hurt, and her sweet 4 year old daughter was killed. The 2-year-old was, thankfully, okay. I was jolted and heartbroken to hear this news. All I could do was pray and pray for Delia and her family. I also couldn't help thinking that for the most part I knew what they were feeling, and I also wished that there was some way I could take the suffering of losing a child away from them, though I knew I couldn't. In a way, I sit here and think to myself "I just can't imagine," but I can. I guess I can't imagine such an unexpected and violent loss. With Glennie, we knew his passing would be coming. That doesn't make it any easier to deal with, but I guess it's the shock value that gets to me. Our shock came more when Glennie was diagnosed, and it had time to dissipate a little before he passed. Still, losing a child is losing a child, whether you see it coming or it comes suddenly and shockingly. Either way it happens, God has a plan for it and plans to use it for good, whether we realize it or not. I am thankful to know this, and I pray that others who lose people they love will know this, too. Whenever I hear of tragedies like this, whether it be somebody you worked with or Michael Jackson or Farrah Fawcett, I pray fervently that the families of the deceased will turn to God in their sorrow and not away.

It Has Been A While

2009-06-26T15:15:00.000-07:00

It has been quite a while since my last blog, almost a month. We have been quite busy in that time. We left San Diego to move to Florida on June 9th. We drove down here in separate cars; me with little Jack in my van, and Glenn with Jeff. The trip went pretty smoothly, and I only got lost once. That was in downtown Baton Rouge. It was nighttime, and I had just gotten stopped by the police for tailgating Glenn. I was following so closely so that I didn't lose him. The cop let me off easy with a warning, and from then on I was terrified of getting stopped again, so I kept my distance. That was where we got separated. Glenn called me to tell me to get over to the right to stay on I-10, but by then it was too late. Off I went into downtown in the dark of the late night. After a few failed attempts at getting back on the freeway, I parked in a school parking lot and told Glenn to turn around and come get me. Fun times.

We are still settling into our little rental condo and will be moving soon anyway. We had planned to buy a house, but since that didn't pan out we are now either moving into base housing or renting another place. We are looking forward to a few changes in the next few months, one of those being the move. I am also looking for another job and hopefully will be working from home again soon. We are also set to send Jeff to preschool in August! I am very excited and also nervous. I know I will be more sad than he will on that first day of school. I am excited because I know he will LOVE school. He adores going to Sunday School at church and interacting with other kids and being in the school environment. Ah, our first experience with sending a child to school.

I just had to post to let anyone who reads this know that I am back to blogging!

Late at night

2009-06-01T01:17:00.000-07:00

You know, I always feel a little guilty for staying up late at night. On one hand, it is a time where my husband and I can have some down time after the boys go to bed. On the other hand, we stay up so late! I have always been a nighthawk anyway, so I don't know what to think about this.

Tonight while tooling around on my blog, I have seen things that remind me of Glennie, and remind me of disease and pain and strength and courage. Take Jonah Williams. Jonah is a 3-month-old baby boy with Epidermolysis Bullosa. EB is an extremely rare genetic condition where pressure on the skin causes painful blisters and other problems. You can read about Jonah by clicking on the "Pray for Jonah" button on my sidebar. Many babies with this disease don't make it past one year. Jonah is a beautiful boy, with big blue eyes that remind me a little of Glennie's. Lately I have been drawn to stories of children with serious illnesses. I'm not sure why; I guess I want so much to help in some way. It's amazing to me to see such fragile-bodied children like Jonah and Glennie with such strong and courageous spirits, children who can glow and smile and laugh through what they are enduring. It is also amazing to me the lessons they can teach us and the lessons that God is trying to teach us through these precious little lives.

I don't mean to be a downer, but I really felt the need to write this post. It is at times like this when I wish I had more money or more resources so I could give it away to those who need it the most. For starts, I will pray every day for children like Jonah and their families. I know all to well what it is like to be told your baby is going to die due to a disease you have never heard of. Even if I didn't, prayer is still necessary and needed.

Scrumdiddilyumptious Oatmeal Raisin Cinnamon Chip Cookies

2009-05-18T15:33:00.000-07:00

Here is what you need to do: Go to the grocery store, and see if you can find some Hershey's Cinnamon Baking Chips. They are in the baking section next to the chocolate chips. If you can find them, buy them then use this recipe:

http://www.hersheys.com/recipes/recipes/detail.asp?id=6197

I am on a baking kick lately and really seem to like baking and cooking new things. I am always on the lookout for treats that don't involve chocolate but are still tasty to me, as Glenn hates chocolate and I like to make things that everyone can enjoy. I made these in bars, and though they were too crumbly to really cut into squares, they are absolutely delicious. Everyone had a taste, and we are going out again to the grocery store tonight to get some vanilla ice cream to eat with them for dessert tonight. I think I myself may skip dinner and just go for the Oatmeal Raisin Cinnamon Chip bars with vanilla ice cream and a cinnamon dolce latte made from my Dolce Gusto. Making stuff at home rules!

Mother's Day

2009-05-10T22:25:00.000-07:00

Our precious boy Glenn III passed away on May 6, 2004. It was a Thursday. We held his memorial service that Sunday, which was Mother's Day. It was a warm, sunny May day that had a surreal feeling about it. Here we were, going to our baby boy's funeral. Come to think of it, Glennie's burial outfit was quite fitting for that day. He was wearing a one-piece outfit that had "Mommy's Little Hero" on the front. We were overwhelmed by all the people that packed into his service to show their love and support; family, friends, Marines from Glenn's squadron, Glennie's doctors from Children's Hospital of Philadelphia and his home care nurses, all who so lovingly cared for him during his illness.

Since that Mother's Day in 2004, there has been a certain uniqueness for me on this day. It is hard to explain, but it is almost like a unique, heavenly sense of peace and comfort. That's all I can think of to describe it. I am very thankful and blessed to be the Mom to my boys Jeff and Jack, and on this day more than anything I just like to enjoy my day in their presence. I also know that I am the Mom of an angel, and I reflect on that more than ever on my very special Mother's Day.

Thank you, Lord, for my three boys. Thank you for their spunk and wildness and laughter. Thank you for choosing us to be their parents. Thank you for Glennie's life and the time we had with him, and thank you for choosing us to love him and care for him. Thank you for my Mother's Day.

The Hand We Are Dealt

2009-04-27T23:00:00.000-07:00

Our first son, Glenn III, was born September 16, 2002. Like any parent, it was a day that changed the rest of our lives. He was born without incident and was beautiful, and we were thrilled to take him home and start our new life as a family of three. Throughout the several months after Glennie was born, we had noticed a few strange things about him, but being that we were brand new parents and that his doctors never seemed very concerned, we dismissed the issues. They were things like how Glennie seemed to really breathe hard from his belly and how by 4 months he couldn't lift up his head. At his well-baby appointment, the doctor said that Glennie was just slow in developing and told us to give him some more tummy time to strengthen his neck muscles. Glennie hated tummy time and cried the entire time, but we believed it was for his own good. He also began to sweat when he nursed around that time as well.

When Glennie was 6 months old, we took a trip to New Jersey to visit Glenn's family, and after taking one look at him, Glenn's parents knew something was wrong. A few days into the trip, they convinced us to take him to the Emergency Room at the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia. Once we got there, the doctors knew right away that something was wrong as well, and Glennie was admitted. He lacked muscle tone and was not meeting his milestones.

Throughout the next year, there are some details I remember with absolute clarity and some I don't remember at all. I remember the morning after Glennie was admitted, a doctor named Dr. Finkel came in to talk to me. He was the head doctor on the Neuromuscular Clinic, and his special interest was in Spinal Muscular Atrophy. I don't really remember all that he said, but basically he did say that although the final diagnosis was not made yet, Glennie most certainly had Spinal Muscular Atrophy, type 1, the worst kind. He said usually babies with type 1 don't make it to the age of 2. I was alone in the room at the time Dr. Finkel came in, as I had spent the night there with Glennie. The next thing I can remember from that time is being with a group of people in the hospital room. I know Glenn was there, Glenn's parents, some relatives, and also a few friends from church, and I remember we were all sobbing at this grave news, huddled together knowing that Glennie would die before he had barely even begun to live.

The next year was spent in and out of the hospital. At first, Glennie had to get a gastric tube put in his stomach, as it wouldn't be long before he would lose his ability to swallow. He lost this ability shortly after the tube was placed at about 7 months of age. He never was able to hold up his head or roll over. He could move his hands, feet, fingers and toes and the muscles in his face, and that was all. Such is the nature of SMA, it robs children of the ability of movement and eventually the ability to survive.

Glennie was diagnosed in March of 2003. Over the spring and summer, we spent more time in the hospital than out of it due to surgeries, a colon blockage, and respiratory viruses. Even a cold could be deadly to Glennie, as he had no muscle strength to swallow or to cough up any secretions. One simple cold or virus could cause blockages in his airway and would cause partial collapses of his lung. He would need to be intubated so that he could recover and would have to be slowly weaned from the ventilator, and this process often took months.

From August to December of that year, we were able to spend a miraculous five months at home. Glennie was staying well and although the disease is progressive, he was doing well with our home care nurses and with Glenn and I taking care of him. He received numerous medications and feedings through his G-tube, as he could not take anything by mouth. He received respiratory treatments every 4 hours, which consisted of using an in-exsufflator to pull secretions out of his airway and then suctioning them out. He wore a BiPAP for naps and to sleep at night. Glennie's lungs and weak respiratory muscles worked hard to breathe every day, so the BiPAP machine provided his lungs some rest as he slept by helping him breathe. It also helped rest his lungs if he was sick and wasn't intubated.

A couple weeks before Christmas of 2003, I was awakened in the wee hours of the morning by shouts of our night nurse, Pat. "GLENN!! AMANDA!!" she yelled urgently, twice, before I realized what was going on and leapt out of bed. Glennie was in dire straits. His O2 and heart rate were dropping fast, and Pat was able to get him stabilized as Glenn called 911. One of many fast and furious trips to the ER was made, again, this time by ambulance. Yet again, we waited in the ER with family, wondering if this was going to be the day, wondering how many times in their life a parent can do this, can watch their child, their baby, struggle for life and breath.

That was one of many times Glennie was able to be stabilized, and one of many times we were able to breathe a shaky, temporary sigh of relief; temporary because we knew that unavoidable day was going to come.

Glenn, Glennie, and I spent our Christmas there at Children's Hospital of Philadelphia, our little family of three. Once again, we were in and out of the hospital that winter and spring, and were able to go home yet again at the end of April 2004.

On May 6, I knew that day that something wasn't right with Glennie. He seemed tired, and he had seemed tired since we had been discharged from the hospital at the end of April. He was struggling that day, and by late afternoon the nurse and I were rushing him back to his bedroom to get him started on his O2. As our nurse Angela worked at one side of Glennie's crib, I stood at the other, talking on the phone to one of his doctors from CHOP. As I stood there on the phone, I watching Glennie's numbers plummet once again. I told the doctor I had to hang up and call 911, and she told me to keep her posted. This was the first time in my life I have ever called 911. The paramedics rushed to our apartment, and Glennie was loaded onto the gurney, where I distinctly remember one of the paramedics strangely asking me if Glennie was blind. I think she was taken slightly aback by his very bright blue eyes. We rushed Glennie out of the apartment.

I followed the paramedics and Glennie out of the apartment, and gave Angela a quick hug, as she was going to stay behind and finish her required paperwork at the end of her shift and lock up the house. I walked behind the gurney, and everything almost seemed surreal. I noticed the kids who lived in the apartment below us had come out onto their porch and were watching what was going on. The medics loaded Glennie into the ambulance, and as they did, the bottom of the gurney hit the bottom step of the ambulance, jolting the gurney. I noticed that Glennie did not move. I climbed into the front seat and waited as we prepared to get going. I noticed that it was almost 5 o'clock, according to the clock on the dash. We did not go to the ER at CHOP, as there was not enough time. Glennie just needed to get to the nearest hospital. At some point during this time I had called Glenn, and Glenn and his parents were en route, their phones glued to their hands.

Once we got there, the medics were performing CPR on Glennie as we rushed in. Once in, they got him into a room that became so flooded with medical personnel that some were asked to leave by the doctor in charge. I was taken to a small family waiting room where I met Keva, the social worker. I will never forget her name as long as I live, nor will I forget her beauty and her gentle spirit. I told her about Glennie as we waited and silently prayed. It wasn't long before the doctor came in and gently and sadly told me they were doing all they could and still had some things to try. She left and Keva asked if she could pray with me. We did, and silently in my mind I asked God to take away Glennie's pain, to not let him be afraid. I wanted to be in there with him so that he wouldn't be scared, but I knew I couldn't.

The doctor came back in. With tears in her eyes, she told us they did what they could, but that Glennie was gone. At this point, my mother-in-law had arrived at the ER and raced into the room. "He's gone? HE'S GONE?!" my mother-in-law screamed, as we fell into a heap on the waiting room couch, sobbing hysterically. I cannot even explain that moment, that day, where the sky fell down on top of us.

I was allowed to hold him one more time if I wanted, and I said yes. They cleaned Glennie up a little bit, and I was allowed in the room, the room where Glennie quite possibly breathed his last breath. I sat in a chair and held his body as people began showing up. My father-in-law, and Glenn, who ran into the room frantically and in a panic in his softball gear, only to find out Glennie was already gone. Glenn's sister Sarah came in, as well as our Pastor Joe and our old friend Shari. Shari has known Glenn and his family for a very long time as the mother of Glenn's best friend, Jim. We all stayed for a while, and it was decided that Glenn and I should be the first to go and that our family would do whatever was left to do there at the hospital.

The rest of the day was numb. We went to stay at Glenn's parents' house, as Glenn and I did not want to go back to our own apartment with Glennie's now empty room. I remember we went home and turned on Survivor, our favorite show, just for some mindless entertainment and distraction from the day, but we were pretty much numb to everything. There is not much that can be said at all on the day your child dies.

Glennie died on a Thursday. We held his memorial service that Sunday, which was Mother's Day. We held his burial the next day, on Monday, as I did not want to bury my son on Mother's Day.

A few weeks later, my mother-in-law told me that she knew something was horribly wrong as she ran into the ER that day. She said everywhere she looked, everyone was crying. Doctors, nurses, receptionists, even the EMTs standing out by the ambulance were crying. You simply wouldn't be human if you were not devastated by the struggle of this little boy, this baby.

It wasn't about the struggle Glennie faced just that day, but the one he faced his whole life. He depended on machines to help him breathe, or to breathe for him. He depended on machines to feed him and to keep his airway clear because he didn't have the strength to do it himself. He depended on me, his mom, to exercise his arms and legs every day because he couldn't even move them. He depended on doctors and nurses and even his family to save his life numerous times throughout his 20 months of life because SMA is that cruel and harsh and devastating. This is the nature of SMA, crippling and progressive and fatal and, at this point, incurable. He depended on Glenn and I to do what we thought was best for him and to make life-and-death decisions on his behalf.

There are so many horrific stories that can be told about SMA, even just the ones that Glenn and I and our family experienced firsthand. There were so many times we and our families watched Glennie suffer terribly due to Spinal Muscular Atrophy, and there are many others like him and many families like us who face these devastating circumstances and heart-wrenching decisions every day, families who face uncertainty and know the pain of a broken heart on a daily basis and can feel death at the door.

This post is long, but is only the tip of the iceberg, only a small glimpse into the life of a family who deals with Spinal Muscular Atrophy. I felt moved to write it through the pain and tears because I want others to know about SMA and that we need to do what we can to cure it.

http://www.petitiontocuresma.com/

The signature goal for the Petition to Cure SMA is 100,000, and it is currently at 57,200. We need more signatures!

http://www.fsma.org/

http://www.smasupport.com/

http://www.our-sma-angels.com/

SMA

2009-04-24T23:10:00.000-07:00

From time to time, I hear about the passing of another child with Spinal Muscular Atrophy. Tonight I read about a boy named Jarred. He was 9 years old with SMA Type 1 and passed away a few weeks ago. With each child, my heart breaks all over again, because I know exactly what it is like to lose a child to this disease. I know what it is like to go to bed that night, broken and knowing nothing will ever be the same. I know what it is like to wonder, "Where do we go from here?" No words can express what it feels like to lose a child, whether it be to SMA or something else.

Tonight I was looking at the Children's Cancer Association web site, and they have a Hero Kids section. So many kids, including Jarred, who fight daily battles with SMA or leukemia or a number of other horrific things. It's amazing and mind-blowing to me to see the courage and strength and determination of these precious children who are dealing with their fragility and pain and mortality on a daily basis. They show us what life is about, and truly what it means to be strong and have courage. They inspire us to be strong no matter what hand we are dealt in life.

http://www.childrenscancerassociation.org/hero_kids/

When our Glennie was diagnosed with SMA, and throughout his life and even now, me and my husbands favorite verse is Joshua 1:9-

"Be strong and of good courage; do not be afraid, nor be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go."

Words to live by.

Cleaning and Junior Fawf

2009-04-13T19:29:00.000-07:00

It has been a while since I posted, so I will give a brief update. We went to NJ, where Glenn headed to MSG School in Quantico, VA. We were dropped from the course due to medical issues, and the few weeks he was there was a difficult time, and I will spare you the details. It was difficult because we were unsure every day what was going to happen, I was missing him terribly and also missing my home. However, I think we learned a lot during that time. I learned to lean on God more and to wait for His timing. I also feel that now after living with my mother-in-law, I am managing my time better at home, and I think also keeping up on the laundry a little better. I have OCD with things like germs and checking things, but I think she has OCD with laundry! I also witnessed her going on a cleaning spree at midnight one night that lasted until 3 am, and I actually assisted her with this spree until I got scared and fled for my life, fearful that I would end up in the garbage can with the piles of stuff she was almost blindly chucking away. Oh, and it also happened to be about 1 AM.

So, we are back at home now after 2.5 days on the road. It is nice to be home and in the San Diego weather again. Every day when I get up I just soak in the sunshine and warmth and the light, cool breeze.

Anyway, while we were on our trip home, the second and last hotel we stopped was in Tucumcari, NM. We stayed at a Best Western and woke up early the next morning, eager to reach home that night for a few reasons, one of them being that we couldn't afford another hotel. We got in the van, and Glenn drove up to the hotel entrance to check out. As me and the kids sat there in the waiting car, Jeff said to me, "I have a new name, and it starts with a K now." I asked him what his new name was, and he said, "Junior Fawf." I couldn't understand what he was saying at first, so I asked him a few more times, and finally realized that, according to him, his new name was Junior Fawf. I figure maybe the "K" is silent, like Kjunior Fawf? I asked him where he got this new name, and he said, "In the bed at the hotel." Did God come to him in a dream and tell him that he shall now be called Junior Fawf? I guess we will never know.

My funny guys

2009-02-10T20:23:00.000-08:00

The other night, Jeff asked Glenn and I if we wanted to play hide n' seek, and we agreed. I was "it" first, so I sat on the couch and counted to 20. I heard Glenn and Jeff run upstairs, and as I finished couting I announced "READY OR NOT, HERE I COME!' I started up the stairs, and as I did, I could hear, "Hee hee. Hee hee hee." from the bathroom at the top of the stairs. "Hmmm, I wonder where Jeff is," I thought to myself, and found him in the shower, giggling. Jeff was the next one to be "it" so he counted to ten twice (he didn't know how to count to 20) as Glenn and I ran upstairs. I hid in the boys' closet while Glenn hid in ours. I heard Jeff come up the stairs and go into our room. He came back out and then went downstairs again. I then heard a crash and Jack say "Uh-oh", but I suspected it was the high chair that we had put over the gate (so Jack couldn't climb on it) being pushed over. For the next few minutes, I heard nothing except the sounds of Jack playing. I began to get nervous, wondering if Jeff had duped us into playing hide n' seek so that he could wreak havoc downstairs. I crawled out of the closet and found Glenn, and he went downstairs to see what was going on. Apparently, he was still looking for us downstairs I guess, but I still don't know.

At that point, we confined the game to upstairs and decided it was better to have Jack play upstairs. I was "it" again by this time, so I counted to 20 on the landing and went upstairs. As I climbed, I heard Jeff say, "Will you stop it?" I followed the voice into our room and noticed Jack standing by a laundry basket full of clothes. He was poking the clothes on top, and then pulled some of the clothes off the top. There was Jeff's little face, looking up at me from the laundry basket. "I found you!" I exclaimed, as Jack flopped his little hand around in a wave to his brother.

The game went on several more rounds. We decied to quit when Glenn would hide and Jack would stand, crying and screaming, "Daddy!" or when I would hide and he would scream "Mommy!" I know I will never forget the sight of Jack poking the clothes and revealing Jeff's hiding place. Too funny!

Tonight, as I waited for Jeff to get undressed and into the shower, he ran behind the partition wall towards the bedrooms because he didn't want me to see him get undressed. He then came out, naked and giggling. I called him silly, and he pointed at me and said, "You have a silly willy!" I explained to him that I don't have a willy, that I am a girl and girls don't have willys. He then pointed at me and said, "Yes you do, you have a willy in your pants!" I really did not know what to say to that and decided to let Glenn do the willy talk, so I just told him to get in the shower. This kid......

One of my favorite things

2009-02-02T20:15:00.000-08:00

Every night when he goes to bed, Jeff asks to sleep in our bed. We allow him to more than we should, I'll admit. But I love to get my work, chores, and shower done before he goes to bed so that I can lay down with him and watch TV. He loves to watch America's Funniest Home Videos ( "funny videos" to him) and shows like "Destroyed in Seconds" ("crashing show") where things crash and blow up and basically get destroyed. What a boy he is, and quite possibly a future Marine. Sometimes he falls asleep watching TV, but when he doesn't, I will turn it off, kiss him goodnight, and give him a "nighttime toy." I will always come back later and lay down with him while he is sleeping and watch TV. I love to watch him sleep. Any mischief or trouble he got into during the day is as good as gone as he lays there sleeping. I like to get into bed a little before Glenn does just so I can lay there for a few minutes, and if we get there at the same time, I tell Glenn just to wait a few seconds before carrying him off to bed so that I can see him.

As for Jack, I stay up late, until at least 12;30 AM so I can change his diaper. Otherwise, he will be swimming by morning. I change his diaper, and then brush his teeth since he usually goes to bed with a sippy cup of milk. Bad for teeth, I know, but that is why I brush them when I changes his diaper. Anyway, when I finish changing him and brushing his teeth, I cover him back up with his blanket. He immediately takes his blanket and stuffs a small part of it into his mouth to suck on, like he just cannot get enough blanket into his mouth.

Men of many hats

2009-01-13T19:12:00.001-08:00

November 2007

February 2008

February 2008

Summer 2008

Jack's bin-hat

Halloween 2008

Cowboy Jeff

Christmas "boing" hat

Classic toddler room...toys and clothes strewn about, closet doors askew, and toddler running around with a drum on his head.

This is called big brother's underwear hat

The drum hat is back...and shortly after this pic was taken, Jack turned the pajama pants into a hat

Funnies and the dentist

2009-01-07T23:28:00.000-08:00

For Christmas, Glenn got a couple of Best Buy gift cards, so he went and bought a speaker-bluetooth that clips to the visor of the car instead of one that you have to try to keep stuffed in your ear. Now, our car rides often consist of the following:

GLENN: Call. Mom. Mobile.

BLUETOOTH VOICE: Did you say, "Call. Buc. Mobile?"

GLENN (shaking his fists): NO!

He shuts of the bluetooth, then turns it on and tries again:

GLENN: Call. Mom. Mobile.

BLUETOOTH VOICE: Did you say, "Call. Mom. Mobile?"

GLENN: YES!

Sometimes, it takes a few tries to get it to dial whoever he wants to call.

This morning, as I was getting ready to head out with the boys to go to their dentist appointments, I heard Jeff in the living room saying, "Call. Dad. Mobile. NO!!" "Call. Jack. Mobile. YES!! Haha, that kid does not miss a thing.

I also think that Jack may have been having flashbacks today about his previous surgeries and stays in the hospital for his cleft lip and palate. When we got to the dentist today, we were called back into the exam room, and Jeff was going first. As soon as we walked through the door of the exam room, with the dentist chair/bed, medical equipment, and doctor-type atmosphere, Jack immediately started bawling. It was sad and funny at the same time. Poor little guy, I really do wonder if he was having flashbacks of some sort. He had his finger in his mouth at the time, so I guess it is possible that he had bitten his finger accidentally or something, but I don't know. He certainly didn't like it when it was his turn for a cleaning, which was really just a brushing and some fluoride, but Jeff did extremely well and was just excited he got to lay down and watch Dora the Explorer and got a toy and a toothbrush. While Jack was getting his exam done and crying and hollering on my lap, Jeff came up to pat his brother on the arm and say, "It's alright, Jack. Don't cry."

Speaking of the dentist, tomorrow will be my first dentist appointment in about nine years. I have not been to the dentist since before Glenn and I were married. I am anxious to see what the dentist will say, and I am hoping I will not get yelled at for not going for so long. We have been a little busy since we got married in 2001, with our dear Glennie, and moving many times, and then with Jeff and with Jack and his cleft lip and palate, so I really didn't give much of a hoot about me going to the dentist. I will be extremely proud of myself if I have no cavities, which I don't think I do at this point.

Wanna hear the most annoying sound in the world?

2009-01-06T23:08:00.000-08:00

Okay, I will probably get flak from Glenn about this, but I can assure you this has absolutely nothing to do with him at all. We have been on our computers for a couple hours now, as Jack went to bed and Jeff was coloring and playing with his train here in the office before he went to bed. Glenn is playing WOW and doing an "instance," which is just a fancy way (to me, anyway) of saying "I am gonna team up with other players and we as a group are going to go kill a bunch of stuff and try to kill the big boss guy." He is on vent, which means that we can hear other players talking, and if Glenn hits the control button and speaks, they can hear him. For the past couple of hours during this instance, as I have been working and now am blogging, these other guys on vent (not Glenn) have been yelling and cursing and insulting each other as young, immature, I-have-no-life-so-I-am-on-World-of-Warcraft-at-2-AM-ET-because-I-don't-have-a-job guys do, I suppose. I have told Glenn I would pay him just so I could get on vent and tell these guys to shut their pieholes. There is a chick he and other people have been playing with lately whose voice is not gracing our office tonight, and I thought she was bad. She talks and talks and talks and talks and talks and talks, and is not exactly the quietest as she does so, and she is not half as bad as these clowns that are on tonight. I think I will be happy to hear her voice again. I never, ever thought I would say that. I cannot even express how annoying they are. I really wonder what many of these people would do without WOW. I wish I could stay and continue listening to the happenings that are going on in the instance, but I think I will go lay in my bed and watch "Whose Line is it Anyway?"

Christmas pics

2009-01-06T22:41:00.000-08:00

Here are some of my favorite pics from Christmas. I realized about a week before that it was Glenn's first Christmas with Jack, as Glenn was in Iraq last year. As far as the captions are concerned, I am always very meticulous about lining everything up just so so that everything is even, but I am tired of trying to line them up. I don't know if it is just me or my blog, because nobody else I know seems to have a problem with pics and stuff.

Jeff is happy that Santa came, and that he ate his cookies and milk!

Glenn and Jack watching Jeff.

Jack trying to get the hang of the opening-presents thing.

Yay, cool toy!

Jeff trying out Dad's new massage cushion.

2009-01-05T00:52:00.000-08:00

I wonder when I will warm up to the fact that we are going to another country soon. Ok, so our lives will become enriched at the chance to travel and experience different cultures, etc. But honestly, I like my home. I like the US. I like insignificant stuff like watching Survivor, going to the Coffee Bean, and being among people like me. I really have absolutely no idea what to expect, wherever we go, which is difficult because I like what I know. I love my job and am a lot worried that I won't be able to be hired from overseas due to security issues. Three years of not being able to type dictations from Indian doctors and mumbling Americans, come on! I love that stuff!

On a different note, every time I post I am reminded of my mother-in-law saying to me last winter when I left NJ about how I need to keep up with the blog and post pics of the boys and tell stories. I ought to keep up on that, but since it is 1:01 AM PT, I need to go to bed. Sorry! I really like the picture I took last night, though, of Jackson with his older brother Jeffrey's CARS underwear on his head. So, I may post that one just for kicks, as well as some others. However, I need to get going to change Jack before he pees through his PJs and sheet and then get to bed so we can get up early tomorrow and go get a certified copy of Jack's birth certificate so we will be able to go get our passports for wherever the hell we are going. Maybe we will go to India and I can work in a hospital, haha.

2009-01-05T00:36:00.000-08:00

So, I guess I am pretty bad at keeping up with my blog. I guess the problem is that it is so busy around here with 2 kids, a DH, and a job, especially for the last couple of months I have been working more because we needed some money for Christmas. Now that the holidays are over, I may slow it down a bit, but then again, I will only be working at this job for about six more weeks, and then we are off to NJ for two months and then overseas. I don't know if I will be able to work as an MT from home outside of the US, and that saddens me greatly, but oh well. No matter what happens, I know that God is ultimately in control.

Speaking of God's control, I find that I keep thinking about Jett Travolta. For those who don't know, he is the son of John Travolta and Kelly Preston, and he died a few days ago after having a seizure and hitting his head on the bathtub. He was 16 years old. Having lost a son ourselves, I keep thinking of the unimaginable pain that his parents are experiencing right now. Jett was always there for 16 years, and now all of a sudden he is gone. In a way I know what they are going through, but at the same time, I don't know what it is like to have and know a child for 16 years and then have them suddenly and tragically gone. I read stories about how John and Kelly are Scientologists, and may have dismissed the fact that Jett was autistic, because Scientology does not recognize autism as a disease. Either way, it doesn't make the situation any less tragic. I just hope that this suffering can and will bring them to their knees and to the Lord.

I don't mean to be depressing; this is just one of those news stories that you hear and that makes you think and that touches your heart more than any other.

Funny Jeff

2008-10-25T02:11:00.000-07:00

We had an ophthalmology (that word always trips me up, even as an MT) appointment today for Jack. The doctors we take the boys to are at the clinic where my dad also works, so we stopped in the Urgent Care Center to see my dad before we went up another floor to the Ophthalmology Clinic. We got off of the elvator on the 4th floor and went to wait in the short line at the Ophthalmology desk (getting lots of practice with that word). This is how the conversation with Jeff went as we stood in line:

Jeff: That's 'scusting!
Me(Mom): What's disgusting, Jeff?
Jeff: A fart.
Me(trying to stifle my laughter): Jeff, we don't talk about that here.
Glenn (taking Jeff by his sleeve) We don't talk about that stuff.
Jeff (VERY loudly): BUT I FARTED!
Glenn: Jeff, that is not funny!
Jeff: But mom is laughing!

I was trying to stifle my laughter during this whole conversation, but wasn't doing well with it. I was standing there as Glenn told our 3-year-old how it wasn't at all funny that he was advertising to all the people in the waiting room the fact that he farted, and there I was, covering my mouth and trying to hide the fact that I was laughing hysterically. Yeah, yeah, I know. Pure unadulterated immaturity, and I got a stern look from Glenn, who commented on the fact that he was like a "single father" in trying to teach our son that it's not polite to yell about farting in public.

Happy Birthday Glennie

2008-09-16T00:23:00.000-07:00

It is a little past midnight on September 16. I know that I will be thinking of Glennie constantly today. I keep thinking about how he would be 6 years old today. It is so easy to fall into the trap....the trap of "If only he were alive today...." Yet I know that he was never meant to live to be 6, or even 2. He was born to us on September 16, 2002, as he was supposed to be, as he was meant to be by God. As devastating as it was to watch him live with this disease, and in essence, watch him die, it was God's plan all along. I remember when Glennie was first diagnosed, I couldn't stop thinking about how he would look at a toy and never be able to reach out and play with it. I always wondered if he longed to reach out and grab it but couldn't, or if his limitations were normal to him and he believed the toy was just something to look at. That was one of those "if only's." "If only he were normal and we could watch him grow and develop and play like a normal baby." If only we could be able to watch him learn how to sit up, then stand, and later celebrate his first steps. If only Spinal Muscular Atrophy weren't going to rob our son of all these perfectly normal, exciting new moments in a child's life. If only he would get old enough for us to send him off to his first day of kidnergarten, or to play with friends and toys, or to grow up into a handsome man and get married and have a family of his own. I remember thinking of all these things when he was diagnosed.

Then I came to realize that none of this was ever meant to happen. Glennie was born with a special purpose all his own in a body that would fail him. In a body with muscles that would deteriorate and would leave him mostly unable to move and swallow and struggling to breathe. I have heard of people with sick children being angry with God, not being able to comprehend why their children are so sick and being taken away from them. I know we don't fully comprehend it either, and someday I hope that I am able to know all that was accomplished through Glennie's life. I already do know that he taught us tremendous things about love, faith, hope, patience, and strength. I know that good things were accomplished through Glennie, even though the story of his life was accompanied by so much despair and grief. I will always have faith in the good things that came out of Glennie's short, difficult life; those things that are known and those that are unknown. I will always have faith that he was created just as he was for very special reasons.

I remember the day that he died. I remember being in the waiting room at the Emergency Room with Keva, the social worker, waiting with me and praying with me while Glenn and his parents rushed to the hospital. I remember silently, privately, offering up a prayer to God that he wouldn't let Glennie be scared, and that he would take away Glennie's pain. I know Glennie isn't scared right now, and I know that he has not felt any pain since that day. I also know that we think about him every single day, and miss him more than words could ever express, every single day. And even though I know he was never meant to live past the age of 20 months, I always think about what he would be like if he were alive today, what he would look like. I guess it can't be helped.

All in all, this day isn't about Glennie's death, but about his birth, and about celebrating his life, even though he is not here with us. To my Glennie: Happy Birthday to my precious oldest boy, my warrior who amazed us every day you were with us, and still do every day. To my boy who always had a sparkle in his great big, bright, beautiful blue eyes, and now I know they have so much more to sparkle about.

2008-07-25T02:01:00.000-07:00

I know some of you reading this may find this surprising, but I have not set foot in a Starbucks for at least a few weeks now. Why, you ask? No, it's not because I'm jumping on the corporate-greed bandwagon, or even the burnt-coffee-taste bandwagon. After going to Starbucks nearly every day for about 5 years, it hit me one day that I was just sick of drinking the same drinks. I needed a different taste. So, for anyone that has a Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf nearby, they have quite possibly the best drink ever made, a White Chocolate Dream Ice Blended. It's basically a white chocolate blended coffee drink, with swirls of chocolate syrup throughout. I have had one every single day for about 2 weeks, since my discovery of it, and I don't know if I can live without it. I'm sure I will get sick of it someday, and then get something else every day until I get sick of that, and so on and so on. But for now, I need it. I have a problem.

Episode 24 by Glenn Sinclair

2008-07-24T10:44:00.001-07:00

Ok, I know I'm not a Marine wife, but I just had to post this one cause i didn't believe Amanda would do it justice. Does everyone remember the Cosby Show episode where Cliff got a new Juicer? Well inevitably, the youngest child, Rudy, get's into the juicer trying to make jelly for her sandwich. She puts the grapes into the juicer and grape juice starts flying out the top of the juicer and Rudy and her friend run away. Well, later on in the episode, Cliff gives Rudy her punishment for the juicer incident, and you think the show is over. But no, Claire brings up an excellent point. "Who was it that left the juicer plugged in for the child to get into it?" she says. Of course, it was her husband. Well, as the boy walked into my room this morning to tell me the story of the powder, and when i asked him why he's not telling his mother, "cause Mom will yell at me". I assured him that his mother would not yell at him, and that he needed to go tell his mother. Then afterwards asked my dear wife what is so hard abot putting the powder away? So, like Cliff in the juicer episode of the Cosby Show, Amanda, I find you guilty of contributing to the delinquency of a 3 year old.

2008-07-11T01:51:00.001-07:00

Ok, so I still haven't posted photos of our trip to Oregon. I promise, I will get to it. I just wanted to post this little story before I go to bed.

Tonight, I signed onto my transcription platform to start working as Glenn took Jeff in to brush his teeth and then go to bed. Jeff came into the office to give me a hug and a kiss goodnight, and then Glenn tucked him into bed and went downstairs to watch TV. After about 5 minutes, I thought I heard Jeff cry out or say something, so I removed my headphones to get a better listen. I heard nothing except the TV downstairs, so I figured that is what I had heard. After debating for several seconds, I decided to go check in on Jeff anyway. I went into his room and asked if he was ok, and he said yes. I turned to leave when I heard him quietly say something. I went and knelt by the side of his little toddler bed to hear what he had to say and noticed he was looking up at the ceiling. He kept pointing at something "up there." I asked him what was up there, and he said, "He's dead." I wasn't sure if that is actually what I had heard Jeff say, so I asked him again what he was looking at up by the ceiling. Again, Jeff replied, "He's dead." I began to get a little freaked out but pressed for more information. I looked up at the ceiling and the only thing there was an AC vent. I said, "Who's dead?" I thought that he replied, "The guy." I asked him again, because I couldn't believe what I was hearing and was becoming increasingly spooked thinking my 3 year old was seeing dead people or something. This time he said something that sounded like "Elmo." "Elmo's dead?" I asked? "No," Jeff replied, still looking up at the ceiling and waving his little finger in the air. By now I got up and headed downstairs to get Glenn, because it was all getting way to creepy. Maybe Glenn could get some answers. Glenn came up and knelt by Jeff's bed and asked him what was going on, and Jeff told us once again that "He' dead." "Who is dead?" asked my DH. "The animal," said Jeff. At that point, it began to click. "What animal?" we asked. "The tiger." This whole time that I was getting freaked out, wondering if my toddler had a special power to see corpses a la Sixth Sense, and here he is talking about World of Warcraft, which he watches Glenn play somtimes. In the game, Glenn's character can morph into a big cat and kill creatures, and can also get "killed" himself. I know I am old enough and smart enought to know that you probably won't see a dead person floating around your bedroom ceiling, but it still is a little disconcerting to hear your kid talking about something dead in the sky and watching it and following it with his finger. As I type this, I am still jumping at every little noise (sissy), so I think it's time to go to bed. It's extremely late, and it's dark, ok. I don't need to be thinking about freaky movies.

Trip to OR and WA

2008-07-07T01:08:00.000-07:00

We went to Oregon to visit Glenn's sister and her family, and then drove from there to Seattle for my sister's wedding. The Oregon coast was beautiful, and we had a good time visiting Becky and Thane and the boys. Jeff had a fabulous time with the boys. Seattle was beautiful too, and I am still kicking myself for not bringing my camera with me on the ferry from Seattle to Bainbridge Island. It was a great few from the bay of the whole city of Seattle. When we got to the wedding reception, Jeff could hardly stop dancing. He did stop for a little while, but only to run around with the cute little girls as they wrapped the decorative ribbons from the tables around various wedding guests, including Glenn. He sure had a good time dancing with the ladies that night. I think we are in trouble with that kid. Here are some pics from the wedding, tomorrow I will post some Oregon pics.

2008-05-26T23:31:00.000-07:00

Haven't blogged in a while, so I guess while I am taking a break from working, I will catch up. Actually, there is no work in my primary account right now, and only stat reports in my secondary. I am not supposed to do stat reports unless it is during business hours(which it is not, since it is 11:33 pm), soooooo....I am waiting a bit for some more reports to pop up.

I love this job. I really do. I like that I can work after the boys go to bed. I like that I was able to choose how many hours a day to work and which days, and that I can put in those hours at anytime during the day. I find that being an MT is very interesting and challenging as well. Even though I am pretty much making peanuts right now (I have worked about 2 hours tonight and done about 28 lines due to the fact that it was an ESL doctor), and I have made about $2 tonight. It's ok though, because I know I will get faster and learn more as I go along. I just wish I had some money for a good text expander. The only thing I have a hard time with while doing this job is the fact that I make mistakes. I know making mistakes is a given for any new MT, but I have always had a hard time with doing new things which I am not perfect at. I always think about how after Glenn and I met, he tried to teach me to drive stick shift with his truck. It wasn't long before I gave up, because I was getting so upset that it was so hard. Honestly though, I feel that driving a car should be easy, and you can't get easier than automatic, so there you go. You just put the car in Drive, hit the pedal, and go; there is no need to keep switching gears all the time. I also hated using that other pedal when I was trying to drive stick. What a pain in the rear end. All you need is a gas pedal and a brake pedal and that's it, as far as I'm concerened, and I am happy to leave the stick-shift driving to Glenn.

Anyway, on a different note, I took some funny pictures of Jeff while we were all watching American Gladiators tonight, and I will post them soon. That kid is a riot. He really likes to watch American Gladiators when it is on, and one of his other favorite non-cartoon shows is America's Funniest Home Videos. After every video, he will say, "Mom, what happened??" And (most of the time) I say, "He/She fell down." As Glenn said once, it always "somebody falling down or somebody getting hit in the junk."

Funnies

2008-05-18T22:05:00.000-07:00

It is just hilarious listening to the things that come out of my 3-year-old's mouth sometimes. For instance, one thing I love to ask him about is how he plays "Frumpin." Out of the blue one day he told us how he played this game, Frumpin. It seems to me that he plays it when I take him to Glenn's softball games. He will jump around on the bleachers, and when I ask him what he is doing, he responds, "I'm playin' frumpin." I also ask him continually throughout the day how he plays frumpin, and he always says, "I play frumpin....." and then begins to speak in gibberish, the exact same phrase each time. I really have to wonder if it makes sense to him or if it is just gibberish to him. I cannot even explain how funny I think it is when he tells me how he plays Frumpin.

Tonight, we were flicking through the channels on TV, and my husband found Star Wars. He quickly changed it, as it was about Jeff's bedtime and we knew that if Jeff knew it was on that he would want to watch it. Even though Luke Skywalker was on the tube for about 2 seconds before Glenn changed the channel, Jeff immediately said in a borderline whiny voice, "I want to watch Star Wars!" I told him it was over and that he needed to go to bed soon, and then Glenn engaged Jeff in a conversation about the movie. He asked Jeff what his favorite movie was, and Jeff replied, "My favorite movie is Star Whores." After we laughed for a bit, we tried to get Jeff to say "wars" and "war" and he succeeded at it once, but went right back to calling it "Star Whores."

Working woman

2008-05-05T22:46:00.000-07:00

Yay! I am happy to say that I got a job! I am now officially a work-at-home medical transcriptionist. I actually prefer medical language specialist, since "medical transcriptionist" pretty much means "typist" to a lot of people. I worked hard for 2 years at an exceptional school and graduated with a 96% folks; I am certainly not just a "typist." :) Ok, so maybe I am sounding like a dork, but hey, I freely admit it. I'm not proud. Anyway, even though I love being a SAHM, it can drive you nuts sometimes. Especially with a baby who poops about 5 times a day and always has to reach "down there" when you take his poopy diaper off, and who refuses to lay still for 30 seconds to allow a decently fast diaper or clothing change. And a 3-year-old who, half the time, doesn't quite make it to the potty to go pee. I have gone through a lot of Clorox Ready-Mop pads lately. It'll be nice to use my smarts for a little while each day and get paid for it.

Jeff

2008-04-22T22:48:00.000-07:00

For the past couple days, Jeff would say things to me, like, "Are you my mommy?" and I would say, "Yes, are you my Jeffrey?" and he would say, "Yes." He also would say, "You are my Mommy." Simply a statment, an observation. Today, I was having a pretty hard time getting him to listen. I would give him one chance to do something and then put him in the corner if he didn't comply. After about 4 trips to the corner, I was getting pretty frustrated, wondering what on earth I could do to make him listen to me. Glenn got home and was upstairs using the restroom when Jeff started upstairs. I told Jeff to come down, that Daddy was busy and would be down in a minute, but he still maintained that he wanted to go upstairs. I reitereated that Dad was busy and told Jeff to come downstairs, again. After telling him about 3 times, I threatened to put him in the corner again, as I continued getting dinner ready. From the stairs, I hear a 3-year-old voice say, "You're not my Mommy." Say WHAT?? "What?" I asked. He said it again: "You're not my Mommy." This time, I abandoned my task and went to the stairs, where Jeff was still sitting. "What did you say?" I demanded. This time, I got in respone a sheepish, little-boy grin. "Nofing." he replied. But it was too late. Into the corner yet again, and by this time, Glenn was heading down the steps. He had a man-to-boy talk with Jeff as I went back to the kitchen to continue making dinner, shaking my head at the things that come out of this kid's mouth. It was less than a minute when in came Jeff, and he wrapped his arms around my legs and said, "I'm sorry for saying NO!" Close enough, I guess. Is this going to get easier as they get older, or harder? I guess we get to find out.

What happens when Mom is not home

2008-04-15T20:48:00.000-07:00

Soooo....my best friend had a baby today. She went into the hospital last night in labor, and when I called this morning she was still in labor. So I waited anxiously to hear an update, which came at about 4 pm. I packed up the presents I bought for the baby and for big sister Sierra and headed to the hospital, leaving DH at home with the boys. As soon as I got to the hospital, I received word from DH that Jeff had found my Clorox toilet cleaning stick and and the cleaning pads that go with it, had put the two together, and was "making his pee purple."

The pictures don't do the scene justice, but in the boys' bedroom there is baby powder and diaper rash cream everywhere; on both beds, the floor, the dresser, toys, etc. Jeff even put some cream and powder in his hair and in Jack's hair, too. You can see the white spot on Jack's head in a few of these. Ahhh, a taste of being a stay-at-home parent...

Back to normal

2008-04-04T13:32:00.000-07:00

Well, here we are. It is Glenn's first day back at work since we moved into our new house. Once he got back from deployment, he went back to work for a few days while we still lived at my parents house, then took off for a few weeks to move and for his parents visit from NJ. We had an enjoyable visit with his parents, and now the fun is over and everybody is back to work. I love being in our house. Although now that Glenn is back and we are all settled in, I do need to start looking for a job. I graduated from my medical transcription course a little over a month before Glenn left, and I realized it would be too difficult to get a job while he was away. Now it's been almost 9 months since I graduated, and I'm hoping I'm not any less marketable than I was when everything was still fresh in my mind. I'm very excited to start working from home but am nervous about interviews and all that junk. I hate interviews, but what're you gonna do?

Well, I'm off to make Jeff's Spongebob macaroni n' cheese, then to do some housework. Yes, that includes vacuuming, to those of you who like to make fun. I love to vacuum, and I love my new house (did I say that already?) And, after dinner, it's off to Target once again for a toy organizer, maybe a desk, and a mixer so I can make my DH and DS some carrot cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. I really feel like I am back to being a stay-at-home mom now, which is definitley exhausting, but I really do love it. Now, if only I could wean the hubby off of World of Warcraft......

2008-03-14T23:48:00.000-07:00

These are more of my favorite pics. He is just too cute for words.

Happy Birthday Jeffrey!!

2008-03-14T23:29:00.000-07:00

I love this picture. I love how excited and happy and innocent he is.

Wow, we have a 3-year-old boy. He is getting so old, but is still so little. He amazes me every day. It was a fun day. While Daddy worked, we went to Starbucks, where Jeff always wants to sit down with his drink at one of the tables. We did just that with my iced caramel macchiato and his chocolate milk with whipped cream and chocolate syrup, his "brown and white," as he called it. He also asked me, regarding his drink, "Mom, is this sugar?"

After lunch we went for a walk and then I took him to the park, where he ran around with a couple of kids that were there as well. For dinner we had pizza and then cake and ice cream for dessert and then opened up his presents after he had his bath.

About a half hour after we put him to bed, I walked into the bedroom after my shower to hear his little 3-year-old voice singing, "Happy Birfday. Happy Birfday to Jeffrey." He talked to himself for quite a while before he went to sleep, and when I put Jack down in his crib and turned on his crib toy, I heard Jeff singing along to the music.

The only downside to the day occurred sometime after Jeff fell asleep. I had finally gotten Jack to sleep by putting him in our bed, and awoke only to hear Jeff crying. He had thrown up everywhere, so much so that I had to wake up Glenn to help me get Jeff in the tub again so I could wash out the sheets. Poor baby. Thankfully, he seems to have forgotten all about that part.

2008-03-13T09:17:00.000-07:00

It's been a week since Glenn has gotten home, and it feels like every day is truly a blessing. Things are getting back to normal; Glenn is back at work for a few more days and then he is taking leave so we can move into our house.

The day Glenn came home seemed pretty surreal. I had a hard time believing he was actually coming home. He was coming in late Wednesday night or very early Thursday morning, after flying from Iraq to Kuwait to Europe then finally to the US, and then taking a bus from LA, where they were flying in, down to MCAS Miramar. By 11 pm Wednesday night I was ready to go, but I was still waiting for the call from Glenn to tell me to get in the car and head to Miramar. Long story short: The next 90+ minutes of waiting were among the most tedious of my life, but he finally called, and I headed out into the cold, foggy early morning. As I drove I thought about how I had always pictured picking him up in the sunshine with our boys beside me. But the end result was still the same; after 6 months, Glenn was coming home, and nothing else mattered.

I got to the base and after a little trouble found where I was supposed to go. I found a parking spot and followed a group of people through a set of doors into a room that was set up with folding chairs and tables. People were milling about; solo wives and girlfriends, wives holding small children, and a few tots toddling around. I thought about how maybe I should have brought the boys after all, but then figured Jeff would probably either be asleep in the stroller or cranky because he was tired.

I sat down in one of the chairs, and after about 30 seconds, a woman carrying a baby in a baby carrier across her chest came through the door leading from the flightline and announced that the bus was at Miramar's front gate. Finally, they were here, after 6+ months away from their families and everything they know and love, after 3 days of nothing but travel in dirty cammies, they were home. We filed outside, waiting to see the headlights of the buses. I stood and side-stepped back and forth, trying to keep warm in the chilly early morning, looking around at all the wives and friends and other Marines who had come to welcome our heroes home. I watched people taking pictures and wished I had brought my camera.

Finally, we saw headlights approaching. Three buses roared up and parked on the other side of the barricade as people cheered. It seemed like it took a while for the Marines to start getting off the bus, but when they starting filing off I peered over the crowd's heads looking for Glenn. Everybody looked the same! I watched until the last person got off the bus, but did not see him. I finally saw him a few minutes later as he was about to walk right by me on the way to the bathroom. We hugged for a long time, and then he had to take off again, lost in the crowd of Marines again, to sign in, participate in the "96 brief," and then to get his bags. While waiting, I watched as a truck pulled up and then as a few Marines opened up the back and started to place all the lookalike seabags into neat rows on the ground.

I have to say, one of the greatest feelings of my life was seeing those buses pull up and being there with all of the eager and excited family members and friends. It was like the anticipation of waiting for a celebrity to pull up, but a million times better. These were our own celebrities. They were our husbands and sons and friends and fathers, who left the comfort of their home and family to live and work in a foreign place to fight for our freedom. There is no job on earth more noble than this.

Waiting

2008-03-05T21:08:00.000-08:00

Now I am just waiting for the phone call. Glenn's flight should just be landing at LAX, and then they have about a 2-hour bus ride here to San Diego. He is going to call me once they get on the bus to head home. I have showered, put gel in and blow dried my hair (which I never do), and have my best fitting jeans on. After he calls I am going to put on the rest of my makeup and probably try on several different shirts to find the cutest one. Then before I go I will finish off my outfit with the boots Glenn got me for Christmas. I am telling this to anyone who cares. Haha. I am just excited to actually have an excuse to look good again and wear something in lieu of yoga pants and t-shirts (which really isn't all that bad, they are cute yoga pants).

I am still trying to decide what to do about Jeffrey. I was going to come home and, with Glenn waiting downstairs, come and wake up Jeff and tell him he had a surprise downstairs. Before he went to bed, he had a nice snack and a cup of what he calls "yucky water" but is really club soda. I brushed his teeth, and as I was doing that he began to have a meltdown. I still don't know what all the fuss was about. Anyway, I got him in bed and he pretty much fell asleep right away after letting out a few tired-sounding squeaky sounds. I'm a little wary of waking him up in the middle of the night because I don't think he will handle it very well. But our other problem is that he has been geting up lately very, very early in the morning and will climb into bed with me. If he pulls that at 4 or 5 am tomorrow and sees his Dad in bed, I think he will get too giddy to go back to sleep. I know I don't want to wake up for the day at 4 or 5 am.

Still waiting for that call. Get on the bus already guys!! It's kind of hard for me to believe this deployment is over. Up until now it felt long, but now it doesn't seem like it was that bad. Anyways, who cares?? It's over!! Now I just gotta wait for that call and for an ETA at the base, then it's off into the dark of the late night to go get my husband. It will be one of the best nights ever!!

We made it (almost!)

2008-03-04T13:18:00.000-08:00

Well, here it is. We made it through our first deployment. Glenn is on his way home and should be coming in late tomorrow. I can't even begin to describe excitement like this. Our family is going to be together again, and I can't wait. I can't wait to see him and for the boys to see him, and I can't wait for him to be able to eat good food and to do all the things and go all the places that we love. He says that even if I mess up on dinner, it will taste like a piece of heaven to him after eating the chowhall food for 6 months. The first things we are going to do are to pick up our new Jeep (his welcome-home present), go to Starbucks, and have dinner at Outback Steakhouse. I remember having dinner at Outback 2 days before he left, and when he got up to go smoke I couldn't help letting some tears out, knowing that he was leaving. No more of that stuff now!! On a diferent note, I have to mention that he left here as a Staff Sergeant and is coming back a Gunnery Sergeant. What a guy he is to me, I gotta tell ya. What a guy.

2008-02-26T14:48:00.000-08:00

Well, here we are. Almost done with our first deployment. Even though we are not done yet, I am excited that the difficulties of the past several months will be over soon. Even more so, I can't wait to see him, and I can't wait for him to see how the boys have grown. I think it's been a good learning experience for both of us in different ways, although I am happy to see it coming to an end. I think one of the big things I have learned over these past months is how, as a parent, you have to try to control your emotions when it comes to kids. Yeah, I still mess up, and I'm sure I will mess up in the future too, but I think I am better able to understand the importance of keeping your cool and better able to do it as well. Under my stress today, I uttered something under my breath that isn't the greatest example of language (alhtough it's probably not what you're thinking), and Jeff said to me, "Mom, don't say that." I was both amused and embarassed, having my 2-year-old son keep me in check. Boy, oh boy.

2008-02-15T14:45:00.000-08:00

Here they are with new hats! I love buying them new hats, they are just too cute. Jeffrey originally wanted a "train hat," but like most 2-year-old pretty much forgot about it, especially when we found this dinosaur hat. Jeff's is a little big yet, but he'll grow into it quickly.

2008-02-15T14:39:00.000-08:00

Well, I promised my mother-in-law I would post pictures of the boys and keep the blog updated, and I hate to say I haven't kept my word as of yet. I haven't posted recently because not much has happened. But I guess I can't say that, because when you have young kids there is pretty much something new going on every day. Jack hasn't mastered crawling just yet, though he looks like he is about to take off. Both Glenn and I are hoping he won't learn to crawl until Glenn is home. He should be home in just a few weeks from now. When we got to the base to pick him up, I am not going to tell Jeff where we are going. We will just get in the car and go. I can't wait to see what Jeff is going to do when he realizes we are there to get Dad.

2008-01-15T13:12:00.000-08:00

Time seems to be getting a little tedious. For a while, I stopped going to bed thinking, "Another day is over," but I'm back to that again every night. In a way it feels like we are getting down to the wire, but at the same time it also seems like we have a long way to go. I think it is a kind of transition phase; we are transitioning from the middle of the deployment to the beginning of the end. Seven weeks seems like nothing, really, but thinking that we still have almost 2 months left makes it seem like such a long time. I just want it to be over now. I am tired of being a single parent and would love to be in my own house with my own stuff. I would love to leave dishes in the sink and not feel bad, and I would love to be able to vaccuum my own floors in my own house. I would love to be able to go to sleep in my own bed, knowing that it wouldn't be long before Glenn could, too. I would love to stock up the fridge and the cupboard and eat a late-night signature kickin' turkey bagel sandwich and jalapeno chips and know that it wouldn't be long before I could make one for Glenn, too. And no, you're not getting the recipe. :)

I always remember, as I always have throughout this deployment, that we are lucky. If he were gone for 12 or 15 months, he wouldn't even be half done right now.

Now I want some jalapeno chips. So much for my diet.

Exciting!

2008-01-07T13:23:00.002-08:00

I haven't been so excited about things in a while, but life has at least had a little excitement over the past couple of days. We are now on the waiting list for base housing, and will hopefully have a house by the time Glenn gets back. Also, our 2-year-old, Jeff, used the potty for the very first time yesterday! I was waiting until I at least got back to San Diego in a few weeks to begin potty training, even though he is almost 3. I just figured that all the changes that would be happening after Glenn was deployed; his Dad being gone, moving, traveling to NJ and back again, and not living in our own house would be too much for him to concentrate on potty training. But it looks like he is figuring it out pretty well.

Jack keeps growing and is definitely ready to start on solids now. He has 2 adorable teeth already as well. I can't wait for Glenn to see our growing boys!

2007-12-22T20:21:00.000-08:00

I love this picture because it is just Glenn and Jeff relaxing at home.

It seems few and far between that I blog anymore. I guess I feel that there are only so many times and so many ways that you can say that you truly miss somebody. Right now I think about what it will be like to have our own home again being able to make meals for my family, and to watch The Cosby Show with Glenn at night, like we used to. I look forward to having Glenn brush our Jeffrey's teeth again, because I am certainly no good at it. Right now I can only imagine how strange it will be to have him here again, although I have read that once they are back it's almost like they were never gone. I look forward to renting movies from time to time, going to Starbucks on lazy Saturdays, and to hearing his Jeep pulling into the drive at the end of the day. Although we have less than 3 months left, it still seems like it's going to be so long until he is back. I told him today that although I am no fan of the show "The Fresh Prince of Bel Air," I flick by it from time to time on the TV and wish he were here to watch it again. It used to drive me nuts when he would watch it in bed because, in my opinion, there are plenty of better shows on to watch, but I will definitely settle for it now. I will settle for him watching Sports Center.

2007-12-07T20:05:00.000-08:00

Here are my beautiful boys! Who could ask for anything more?

2007-12-06T18:57:00.000-08:00

This is going to sound cheesy, but I realized today that there is not much beauty in things since Glenn has been gone. There are still things that I like, like walking by the creek here in town with it's calm, snowy white banks, but there is just something missing. Maybe it's just that today was kind of a difficult day with the boys, so it's possible that I was just more down than usual.

On a funny note, I have to write this story because it is too funny. I am staying at my in-laws house, and my room is a renovated conference room (they are caretakers of an old mansion that is the community center) with a door leading into the one bathroom in the apartment, which in turn leads into my in-laws bedroom. Almost every morning, my 2-year-old, Jeff, gets up and opens the door that leads into the bathroom, and my MIL puts on cartoons for him while she gets ready for work. This morning, I was dreaming that Jeff opened the door in the dark of the early morning to go see Grandma. I only realized it wasn't a dream when I heard my FIL talking. Apparently, Jeff opened the door, walked into my in-laws bedroom, and said, "Hi, Granddad!" then proceeded to walk out into the living room. He turned around and came back, where my FIL aid, "Go to bed, Jeff." He came back into our bedroom and said, "Mom, wanna turn ona TV." I said no, that it was still sleepytime, and he crawled back into bed and was out as soon as his head hit the pillow, no exaggeration. I wonder if he was sleepwalking? How strange!

3 Months

2007-11-26T20:28:00.000-08:00

It has been 3 months since my Glenn left. We are just about half done with this deployment. Most of the time, it seems like it will be such a long time before he gets home, but I know my FIL is right when he says that 3 months is nothing. I guess time seems to be going pretty slowly lately; it seems like we have been stuck at the 3-month mark for a long time. However, I also know that when I go to message boards and read stories of wives whose husbands have left for 12 or 15 months, the relief that I am only a few months away from seeing my love is tremendous. I still can't, and maybe never will, fathom what it would be like to have Glenn away for a year or more. I hope I never have to find out.

I find that being able to see Glenn on the webcam, when he can get his hands on one, is really such a blessing, and there is nothing that makes me happier these days. Of course, there are other things that bring me great joy, like making our 6-month-old son laugh, or listening to (most of) the things our 2-year-old says these days or putting him to bed on the nights where, bless his heart, he is not screaming and crying from having his teeth brushed. But it is a different kind of joy than that which is manifested from being able to see their father and how he still looks the same, and seeing how he still smiles and laughs at the same old jokes I make.

What else can I say other than it's hard to wait for the day that he comes home? At this point I am once again unbelievably thankful that the wait is shorter rather than longer. However, that still doesn't make waiting easy, just a little easier.

2007-09-25T23:40:00.000-07:00

Boy, I have been missing him more than ever for the past few days. I was doing ok for a while and staying optimistic, but it has been harder lately. It seems like it will be so long before I get to see him again and my family is back together again. The final inspection on our house was today, so it is good to finally have all the work at the house done. I feel like I can spend more time with both of my boys now. The next hurdle is Jack's surgery on Friday.

What else can I say? Every day is just ok at best. I will be so excited to look back on these posts right before he comes home and to be so glad that our separation is over. But still, I know that there are so many things to be thankful for about this deployment and I am always thankful for them, like the fact he is only gone 7 months.

I Will Be Here

2007-09-21T23:47:00.000-07:00

I Will Be Here
by Steven Curtis Chapman

Tomorrow morning if you wake up

and the sun does not appear

I will be here

If in the dark, we lose sight of love

Hold my hand, and have no fear

'Cause I will be here



I will be here

When you feel like being quiet

When you need to speak your mind

I will listen

And I will be here

When the laughter turns to cryin'

Through the winning, losing and trying

We'll be together

I will be here



Tomorrow morning, if you wake up

And the future is unclear

I will be here

Just as sure as seasons were made for change

Our lifetimes were made for these years

So I will be here



I will be here

And you can cry on my shoulder

When the mirror tells us we're older

I will hold you

And I will be here

To watch you grow in beauty

And tell you all the things you are to me

I will be here



I will be true to the promise I have made

To you and to the One who gave you to me



Tomorrow morning, if you wake up

And the sun does not appear

I will be here

Oh, I will be here.

2007-09-15T21:08:00.000-07:00

I guess I am a little spoiled. Over the past few weeks, I have gotten used to chatting with Glenn via instant messenger almost every morning, and then "chatting" via e-mail in the evening after he got to work. He just started training for his new job, and I have not heard from him since yesterday morning. I have been a bit stressed today, wondering if he is ok. Tonight I realized that I really shouldn't be worried, though I guess it is natural to worry when your husband is fighting a war. I also kept thinking about how I shouldn't be worried, that just because I haven't heard from him today doesn't mean he is not okay. I know he is training for a big job, and that he most definitely does not have as much time to call or write as much as he did before. I know that what he is doing there is vital, and that he will call or write when his training and eating and sleeping schedules allow. Yes, I am spoiled, especially when I take into consideration that there are many spouses who only get to communicate with their other half maybe once a week or once a month. I guess no matter who you are or how often you get to communicate with your deployed loved one, it still is not enough, because you are uesd to them being here.

One thing that I know for sure right now is that I think a lot about the day he will return; what it will be like, what I will be wearing, how the boys will be different, and, mostly, how overjoyed I will be to finally see him again. I'm pretty sure "overjoyed" is an understatement.

2007-09-10T22:12:00.000-07:00

I took a walk tonight. It was the same route I took more than 6 years ago to meet Glenn.

It was around the beginning of October 2000. I had been chatting online with a guy, a guy who certainly seemed obnoxious and possessed a loud personality. We had been typing back and forth for a few days (if I remember correctly), and this time he asked me to meet him in person. I said no. He kept asking, and I kept saying no, until finally I said yes, mostly to get him off my back. I don't think I was necessarily planning to go meet him; I was just relieved that I got him to quit bugging me. We agreed to meet outside the gate of the gated community where I lived with my parents. No way was I going to let some guy who might turn out to be a creep-o come to my door and know where I live. I would meet him at the gate where there was a security guard on duty, so that if anything happened someone else would be there.

The time came, and at 10 o' clock at night I stepped outside and began to walk towards the front gate. At least twice, I stopped and turned towards the street on my right, fully intending to turn around and go home. I figured that I didn't need this pushy, obnoxious-sounding jerk who would be waiting outside the gate. But, for some reason, I didn't turn around but rather kept walking toward the gate. As I approached, I saw a red Toyota Tacoma, with Glenn leaning against the side, waiting for me. He was cute, but every bit obnoxious as he sounded in chat. We took a little walk along the sidewalk, which frames the golf course on which my parents live, and talked. Before we parted that night, standing back at his truck, he asked for a goodnight kiss. I said no. After all, I had only known him for about a half an hour. He kept asking, and I kept saying no, but I did agree to a date. Two nights later, we went out to the beach here at La Jolla, where he asked me to be his girlfriend. Can you guess what I said? That's right, I said no. But this time, he got his kiss.

Of course, eventually I said yes to being his girlfriend. And eventually, he stopped being so obnoxious and revealed the nice and sweet guy that he is.

So tonight, I walked down that same sidewalk I walked down that California autumn night. I thought about when I almost turned around. As I approached the gate tonight, I remembered what it was like seeing Glenn waiting by his red truck. I remember walking and talking with him.

I am glad that I went that night. I am glad that I decided to not turn around but to keep going. If I had turned around and gone back home, it would have been the biggest mistake of my life. There are no words that I can think of that can say how very happy I am that I took the path that I did.

2007-09-08T12:52:00.000-07:00

After my chat today with Glenn over IM, I feel much more uplifted. We talked about finding a house as soon as he gets home and before we go on leave, and we discussed what other plans we are going to make when he returns and when we go on leave. I know that that time is still a long way away, but it made me realize even more that it is coming, no matter how much time we still have left between now and then.

It also made me realize that we are making the right decision about moving (at least I'm pretty sure). I also think that part of the reason I feel better today is because in the next few days I am moving into my parents house here, and I think that I will be busier and less stressed out, especially when I don't have a home that needs taking care of. I will also be living closer to my best friend. I have been a lot more impatient lately with my 2-year-old, and that's not something that I like. If anything, I think this move will be better for him than staying here with a stressed out, sad mom who looks around this house and sees reminders of her husband everywhere. Reminders like his computer which hasn't been touched and clothes and shoes that haven't been worn. While in the garage the other day, I noticed his bat bag that he brings to his softball games, and it was just a reminder that he wouldn't be using it for a long time.

Lately, I haven't been able to decide whether I am happy or sad about moving. I think that I am happy.

Back to packing.

House & Home

2007-09-07T00:06:00.000-07:00

I realized something tonight while I was feeding our youngest boy, Jack. I was wondering how I am going to feel a few weeks and a few months from now when we don't have a home anymore. I was thinking about how I would probably be feeling nervous about not having a home of our home when Glenn gets back from Iraq. It was then that it came to me that I don't need an actual house to have a home. My home lies in 3 people, my man and my 2 boys. As long as I have them, everything is alright.

6 weeks

2007-09-06T15:09:00.001-07:00

What a slow afternoon. I thought packing the house up and getting ready to move was supposed to make the time fly by, but I guess not.

I sorted out my husband's dresser today, and although it kind of made me sad, it was also nice because I knew that he will be coming back to wear all the clothes that he left behind. I even packed some to put in a suitcase to take with me so that we don't have to go digging in storage when he gets back. In a way, I felt like I was preparing for his return, and it felt nice.

I have also been thinking about the next 6 weeks and how it will probably be difficult, considering I am ready for a change for a while. Even though there are people here whom I love and appreciate more than they could know and who I know I can depend on for anything, it is just not the same without Glenn, and like I have said before, it does not really feel like home anymore without him here. Straight up, it is just hard to be without your other half. Going to NJ will hopefully feel a little like a vacation, and I could sure use one right now.

As much as I want to go, I know that being here for the next 6 weeks is important. I know that when I finally get to where I am going, I will look at my precious 3rd-born sons face, with his repaired cleft lip, and know that it was all worth it and know that I wouldn't have done anything different.

Anyway, back to packing. Hopefully the time wiil go by a little faster this time

2007-09-04T23:25:00.000-07:00

I have been thinking a lot lately about how absence makes the heart grow fonder. When I look around nowadays and see other couples together, I think of 2 things:

1. I am sad that Glenn is not here, and how I wish he could be here to talk to and to make jokes with.
2. I feel lucky that this deployment has made me realize how much I took for granted when he was here and how much I truly love him. It is easy to get into a routine and not think about these things and to put too much focus on other stuff when you are together all the time. Like me, and like everybody else on the planet, he did/does have some habits and preferences that were annoying to his spouse (sorry honey!), but right now I think that at least half of that stuff won't bother me so much anymore when he gets back. They are a part of him and I miss him right now.

2007-09-03T22:59:00.000-07:00

"What I have with him is worth it.
It is worth every lonely night, every tear I cry from missing him, and the pain I feel from not having him close.
It is worth it because he is my one and only.
When I picture myself years from now, I see only him.
No matter how painful distance can be, not having him in my life would be worse." - Author Unknown

My thoughts exactly.

2007-09-02T22:47:00.000-07:00

Wow, this throws me for a loop. If I go to NJ for more than a month, we will lose our house. Per military housing policy, both of us cannot be gone for more than 30 days or we have to move out. I know Glenn doesn't mind too much and was already willing before he left to move out and just look for a new place when he gets back. Unfortunately, I have already excitedly envisioned his homecoming and having him walk through the door to our house after 7 long months away from home. Although I don't really want to stay there while he is gone because it has no air conditioning and has been extremely hot lately and, most of all, the person who makes it most like a home is gone, I don't want to give it up. I quite like it when he is there. What a decision to make! Do I make it easier on myself during the time he is gone and then not have a house of our own when he returns, or tough it out in this hot, lonely house, yet keep it? Honestly, I don't want to be in this house right now, but I want it later.