tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39972574007989943642024-02-07T17:57:34.263-08:00AmblingsAmbleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.comBlogger226125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997257400798994364.post-66833857000314915132021-08-16T12:06:00.003-07:002021-08-16T12:14:56.192-07:00Skip ahead to high school<p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXXULgjrd_Dr-BMh37qTbV4GXLmWvCHgeKVeFEeuA5SDoxluzKr2SjhKB4lhzFgUPhYbQkW915cLLNrorrYnLMgAZoRAed0c1zdBoiyNnF3Nqy6KnywMVYKqYf1padl3XZslNzF2cXOoDj/s2532/AND+Jul+2021.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2532" data-original-width="1170" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXXULgjrd_Dr-BMh37qTbV4GXLmWvCHgeKVeFEeuA5SDoxluzKr2SjhKB4lhzFgUPhYbQkW915cLLNrorrYnLMgAZoRAed0c1zdBoiyNnF3Nqy6KnywMVYKqYf1padl3XZslNzF2cXOoDj/s320/AND+Jul+2021.JPG" width="148" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKlfAaiD50CFq7R-3dIo75nL_8OmhsTTa8Zg_emULdDwbdT-2mF399S_EK_eOCft6BSLG7zAUvulEf2oQgarAdtHxyucxORNhJYZO0L-pR9dMWzTQ-CUhrl2AjM-A6gNHQliDTKtOVemxN/s2532/AND+samurai+Jul+2021.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2532" data-original-width="1170" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKlfAaiD50CFq7R-3dIo75nL_8OmhsTTa8Zg_emULdDwbdT-2mF399S_EK_eOCft6BSLG7zAUvulEf2oQgarAdtHxyucxORNhJYZO0L-pR9dMWzTQ-CUhrl2AjM-A6gNHQliDTKtOVemxN/s320/AND+samurai+Jul+2021.JPG" width="148" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik4RqTaqiHJ6okB_QwmlcyrugDE37gHWrVrQrhIsQDi7FgpJHnodCuZkfDK-EyjBkXwEaYQv3cS3Cm_MZtsyYFSRKLaIjjfaUpbX02fVlhCFCJPJeSX3fzgdWXV_aRluZ-pOgve4yd50JZ/s2048/AND+surfboard+Jul+2021.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik4RqTaqiHJ6okB_QwmlcyrugDE37gHWrVrQrhIsQDi7FgpJHnodCuZkfDK-EyjBkXwEaYQv3cS3Cm_MZtsyYFSRKLaIjjfaUpbX02fVlhCFCJPJeSX3fzgdWXV_aRluZ-pOgve4yd50JZ/s320/AND+surfboard+Jul+2021.JPG" width="240" /></a></p><p><br /></p><p>Is he still gorgeous? Empirically, yes. <br />Is he as sweet? Definitely. <br />Is he my boy? No doubt. <br />Is he a little boy? Um, no.</p>Hello, high school. Get ready!<div><br /></div><div>I remember writing him a letter for kindergarten. I told him to fly and knew he would do wonderful things, and I can't say I felt differently then than I do now about his going to high school in a few days. I love him so that sometimes it takes my breath. I could still watch him for hours and never tire, and if it's possible, I think I enjoy being in his company even more now. People are biased about their kids, but this one truly is special. He's wise, he's hilarious, he's quick as lightning (mentally and on the ice), but more than that he's kind, thoughtful, a really good friend. Just wow. Far ahead of where I was at 14.</div><div><br /></div><div>In between, we've had adventures and tears. 2016 was a year in which we lost way too many people, starting with my dad. He's had four broken arms, enough that the doctors pulled us and him aside to make sure he is safe at home, and a fractured spine. His main focus, more and more, is hockey, but he recently had a piano recital that included a Chopin waltz on my dad's piano that would've made him cry happy tears. I'm proud to be his mom every day. <br /><p>I am dreading his getting his license. Right now I have all to myself in the car a lot. A. LOT. We listen to music I love, music he loves, we ridicule Ringo Starr ("Is he the best drummer in the world?" "He's not even the best drummer in the Beatles." -John Lennon), we talk about everything. It's glorious. We have all sorts of jokes together and laugh often. I feel like he sees me and I see him. The thought of losing that is unbearable, but better to have loved and lost....</p><p>So fly, little man. Be the human you are meant to be, and share your gorgeous. Entrance those who meet you and learn a thing or two along the way. Work hard. Achieve. Pick your battles. Decide what's important to you and put that first, whatever it is. Stand up for what you know is right. </p><p>And keep snuggling with your mama here and there.</p></div>Ambleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997257400798994364.post-31015308812584387702013-09-22T18:32:00.000-07:002013-09-22T18:32:00.764-07:00Good morning<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Good morning. It's 7:00, and I've been up since 4:00. Why? I'm in India this morning.<br />
<br />
I've been horrid at keeping up wonderful stories for you, Aidan, during this last year; it's been a bit of a doozie. But better starting now than never, right? I thought that, when you're bigger, you might like to hear more about this trip first-hand. As we saw on the globe in Audrey's class last week, I'm on the other side of the word. Amazizng.<br />
<br />
The plane flight was kind of fun; hopefully someday, if you fly this far away, you'll be able to fly first class too. I don't know whether you remember, but you really, really wanted to come here with me, which would have been so fun. I'm here for work, though, and I couldn't bring you. Part of the reason for that is that the plane ticket alone is $10,000, which is a lot of money. The pod on the plane had my own TV screen, where I could watch movies or TV shows, and my own ear phones. They served all kinds of food while we flew, even an ice cream sundae bar. I'm trying to eat as much local food as I can, so I had the Indian dishes, and they were good! I slept some on the plane, which is good because I couldn't sleep very much last night. It's 7:00 in the morning here, but 9:30 at night at home where you're dreaming away. How crazy is that? I missed 9 1/2 hours of coming this way, but I'll get it back when I fly home Friday night.<br />
<br />
The taxi ride from the airport was fun - there really wasn't much traffic, so I wasn't very nervous, but the driving is very different here. At home we drive in our own lanes and give others plenty of room. Here, they just drive wherever they want without worrying about where lines on the road might be. They do seem to notice traffic lights, but it's pretty different driving around.<br />
<br />
I have to be careful not to drink water here, because their water can make Americans sick. As you know, I also had to get some special shots before I left, and I have to take some special medicine while I'm here so I can stay healthy. I only drink water from bottles, even just for brushing my teeth, and I can only eat fruit that I can peel, like oranges or bananas, not apples that have been washed in the water here. <br />
<br />
The people here have been very friendly so far, and many of them speak English, which makes traveling here easier. Even most of the street signs are in English. That surprised me - does it surprise you?<br />
<br />
Because the team here is supporting us at home, they work different hours than we do, so I'm not going in to the office until 4:00 this afternoon, when I'm usually starting to think about how long it will be until I can get home and see you! But the 4:00 in the afternoon here will be 6:30 this morning at home, and they want to overlap with us. The good part of this is that it will let me see some of the sights here during the day. I think tonight I'll be extra tired because I couldn't sleep last night, but we'll see what I can do. I'll tell you about it when I get back.<br />
<br />
Wish you and Daddy were here with me, but this is the next best thing - I'll take lots of pictures to share with you, too, when I get home.</div>
Ambleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997257400798994364.post-41556574668646001812012-12-19T18:52:00.003-08:002012-12-19T18:52:43.377-08:00A prayer from Aidan"Dear God,<br />I love you.<br />
Please, could I have a different dream tonight? Not one with Sasquach or something like that. I think that dream you've been giving me is more for an eight-year-old, not a five-and-a-half-year-old. Could I have a dream more for someone my age? Like, maybe a playdate with Phillip?<br />
Thank you, God.<br />
I love you.<br />
Amen."Ambleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997257400798994364.post-14417240158124244682012-12-06T14:15:00.001-08:002012-12-06T14:15:33.391-08:00I don't think he's aloneThe other day, as we were driving to school (which ride is host to some of our best conversations) I could tell Aidan was pondering something. He said to me, "Mommy, why do girls have to wear a shirt when they go out in public?" Now, I know he knows why. The reason I know he knows is that we've had that same conversation numerous times - he's been periodically curious about it, wanting to learn the rules and starting to want his own privacy. I said, "You know why, Aidan."<br />
<br />
"(sigh) Yes, Mommy. (sigh) I wish they weren't private."Ambleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997257400798994364.post-11721563505981275692012-12-06T14:11:00.001-08:002012-12-06T14:11:32.872-08:00you'd think I'd have learned by now....This last week we were on vaca (fantastic) in Cabo (also fantastic), and we learned once again the lesson that it's really easy to underestimate what he's capable of. It's a recurring theme - I remember being surprised when he was eating at the table with silverware in the infant room at daycare, and I'm still having to learn. Anyway, we found out several grown-up things he can do while we were gone. Body surfing for one, but also he knows already how to play rummy? I knew he was ready for and plays card games like concentration, war, go fish, crazy 8s but rummy? That's a pretty tough game. No problem, though - he gets it. (He hadn't told us he knows how to play because he didn't know we knew how.)<br />
<br />
He's also teaching himself chess, and I've finally convinced him the name of the game isn't "chest." I thought it best that he doesn't run around asking friends to play chest with him. Anyhoo, I don't know how to play - my Nook came with a free Chess application. I had to look up on Wikipedia how the pieces move, so he's got that now, and he plays the computer. He's getting into it - I'll hear him say, "I'm getting out my nasty queen!" in an excited and menacing voice. I sense a Christmas present (and some chess lessons for Mommy!)<br />
Ambleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997257400798994364.post-25430981327223553152012-12-06T14:08:00.000-08:002012-12-06T14:08:36.857-08:00"I'm a gentleman"We were sitting at dinner at a local restaurant and got flavored water to drink. He grabbed my glass and the water and said, as though to himself, "I'm a gentleman and I pour for ladies." Where it came from, I have no idea. My boy was chivalrous. Awesome!Ambleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997257400798994364.post-48129575648486511182012-09-28T13:36:00.002-07:002012-09-28T13:36:38.463-07:00Uma has itAidan has a love for music. He sings all the time and has taken to whistling lately, which I enjoy immensely. I mean, unhappy children don't burst into song (he's not singing, "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" or anything), so I take it as a good sign. This morning I dropped him off at kgarten, and I saw him strolling down the sidewalk, carrying his backpack, whistling. Cool.<br />
<br />
All this to say that he knows quite a bit of pop music. We listen to it in the car a lot (he knows his favorite stations by call number and will request them). I should say, he "knows" quite a bit of pop music. <br />
<br />
He loves Adele. We've had a running discussion about her song, <em>Rumor Has It</em>. He loves the song, but insists it's <em>Uma Has It</em>, even before he knew that Uma was a name. I've asked what on earth that means, but it doesn't matter. He's convinced. The song comes on, and he'll say, "Mommy, speak it up so you can hear it's Uma." It's be on another day, and he'll say something like, "See-some people think it's Rumor, but Phillip [his buddy] and I know it's Uma." Another time, even that Phillip's (older) brother had told them it's Rumor, but he and Phillip talked, and they decided it's definitely Uma. They will not be swayed. It's been months - several months - he is certain. How great is that sort of determination? I'm hoping this means that he won't fall to peer pressure as he grows.<br />
<br />
In fact, that's a reasonable hope, as I think about it. My brother had a similar trait and did <em>not</em> fall, decidedly, to peer pressure. Still doesn't. (My brother's extra cool.) Being 7 years older than my bro ("LB"), here are some of the hits from his youth as he insisted on singing them:<br />
<ul>
<li>For Joan Jett's "I love rock and roll," the line following being consistent, but unintelligible, syllables. No amount of "so put another dime in the jukebox, Baby" would convince him. In fact, he'd get angry with me for the suggestion. Strangely, Aidan shares that one with LB. Also adores the song, also sings consistent but unintelligible lyrics for those lines. Awesome.</li>
<li>In "California Dreamin'", 2nd verse that is "Stopped into a church I passed along the way," he had "Stuck down in a church" - which explained why the guy would get down on his knees and begin to pray (the next line) - I mean, you're stuck. Of course you pray. Even better, the following line: "You know the preacher likes to call; he knows I'm gonna stay." Um, yeah you're gonna stay--you're stuck! (I love that one)</li>
<li>INXS <em>Need you tonight,<strong> </strong></em>Actual lyrics: "Your moves are so raw, I've got to let you know - you're one of my kind." LB's lyrics: "Your knees are so raw, I've got to let you know - you're one of my kind." I never wanted to know the details of why this gentleman might be seeking out a lady with raw knees. I never asked (though I did get bad mental pictures).</li>
</ul>
Ambleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997257400798994364.post-11321903088836210752012-09-25T06:27:00.002-07:002012-09-25T06:27:36.594-07:00NinjasWe found this awesome children's album called "Snacktime" by Barenaked Ladies at the library. I highly recommend. It has such wonders as "7-8-9" (seven ate nine) and "Eraser," an actual ode to the wonders of an eraser. Aidan and I both love it - we'll be purchasing.<br />
<br />
Anyway, there's a song on there about ninjas. The dude wakes up and he can tell the ninjas have been in his home - things are moved, etc. The chorus is, "The ninjas are deadly and silent; they're also unspeakably violent. They speak Japanese, they do whatever they please, and when you pull of their masks, they'll be smilin'." We've sung it a bunch of times in the last week or two.<br />
<br />
Last night, on the way home from soccer, Aidan got to thinking. It's not always easy to keep a straight face; sometimes harder than others. Especially when he's dead serious. His narrative went something like this....<br />
<br />
"They got the song all wrong. This guy doesn't know anything about ninjas. First of all, ninjas don't move things - you'd never know they'd been there. I know. I'm a real ninja--and am I speaking Japanese right now? No!"<br />
<br />
Ambleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997257400798994364.post-19915607544686972032012-08-27T12:45:00.003-07:002012-08-27T12:45:58.385-07:00"Those who hear not the music think the dancers mad."My beautiful friend Carrie sent me a card with that quote, and I love it. (She asked me to be in her wedding in that card, and I love that too, but that's not the point here.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzvXitIPFoCvuJCaVC09MxO0gaYIIBhny7eYaJ2N71d353Z2aQCWPC2G5Y0T3blSckA3lWCLNHmHko4-nJuH8JJOEWwXCQ5LQz5DXyVUBetgdfQjbHQ3DB76eOlGBzC101h91YO58uKmp2/s1600/first+day+school.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzvXitIPFoCvuJCaVC09MxO0gaYIIBhny7eYaJ2N71d353Z2aQCWPC2G5Y0T3blSckA3lWCLNHmHko4-nJuH8JJOEWwXCQ5LQz5DXyVUBetgdfQjbHQ3DB76eOlGBzC101h91YO58uKmp2/s320/first+day+school.jpg" width="240" yda="true" /></a></div>
Aidan very much reminds me of that. He marches to the beat of his own drummer. I told him I wanted to take a picture of him with his backpack for the first day of school, and this was the closest to a portrait I could get. He wanted fighting pictures (Bey Blades "Blay Blayers"). He wanted to see the pictures after I took them, and he loves them. It's smack-on Aidan.<br />
<br />
His teacher sent home a form to send out to tell our hopes and concerns about our kids. I have lots of both, but my biggest hope/concerns is that he's so beautifully unfiltered - so happy and confident in himself, not knowing or caring what is cool. I hope that the other or big kids don't beat that out of him; I want him to stay so gloriously dorky, so himself - so honestly cool.Ambleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997257400798994364.post-69375016171045725852012-08-27T12:39:00.000-07:002012-08-27T12:39:43.061-07:00what's new?I'm wondering how many days he'll get out of the car when I drop him off for school and yell, "Bye, Mommy! I love you! Have a great day!" I could eat him.<br />
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I adore this stage where he's sounding things out and so proud of doing it by himself. This is the text from a birthday card Aidan wrote for Lou Marino, our neighbor, on his 85th birthday on Saturday (Lou was pretty happy to get it!).<br />
HAPE BRF<br />
DA<br />
TU<br />
LU<br />
<br />
Again, I could eat him!<br />
Ambleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997257400798994364.post-7921091928925330052012-08-22T09:00:00.002-07:002012-08-22T09:00:14.484-07:00and so it begins for the next generationAudrey, my niece, who's 2 and a half, had a great one the other day.<br />
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My sister insists that she doesn't deserve it (clearly she did), when Audrey popped out with, "Mommy, you not being nice....Lord help you!" I hope she's writing some of these down too.Ambleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997257400798994364.post-41280056602583045692012-08-13T12:07:00.001-07:002012-08-13T12:07:39.134-07:00little manMy gorgeous sweetheart love angel, <br />
<br />
I am clear. I know that your growing up is part of this deal. I remember feeling like others might not understand when I was little. You are growing up. You should. You must. I want you to.<br />
<br />
I try my best, but I'm not good at it, not to long for the you who's gone while the you who's here is right here for me to appreciate and snuggle. It's hard. You're my only you, and honestly, you're spectacular.<br />
<br />
You are bright, inventive, curious, involved, funny, loving, appreciative, thoughtful--as well as I know you, you constantly surprise me. You take the right things seriously and have fun as much as possible; we could all learn a thing or two from that approach. <br />
<br />
As you know, I find you completely irresistible. I'm also terrible at not showering you with affection; I'm working on it, I promise. As you're inevitably growing up, I feel the window for such showering closing. I believe there will be a day when you might not want to be seen with me, when I'll embarrass you (you know, when I'm doing it unintentionally). It's possible to miss this you who's with me right now as I see the you who will be creeping in, which drives me to drink in every moment I can. <br />
<br />
Yes, I know that I'm nuts, and as much as you do, I also wish that I could turn all this off inside my head and just be as you do. I can't. I do, however, love you silly. Always will; every bit of you.<br />
<br />
All this to wish you well as you start kindergarten next week, a new adventure. Fly, my little man, fly. You are beautiful.Ambleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997257400798994364.post-71601127836277884702012-07-26T07:18:00.000-07:002012-07-26T07:18:04.181-07:00it's good to have a planAidan had previously thought that he'd like to have five jobs when he grows up (these are coincidental, not sequential): soldier, builder, accountant, astronaut and zookeeper. There's been a change to the plan (I'd like to add that none of this is prompted or provoked - the whole was one long dissertation).<br />
<br />
When Aidan grows up, he will be twelve different types of scientist. He's currently working on which twelve, but he's considering astronomy, biology, marine biology, zoology, entomology, gastronomy, microbology, etc. The list keeps growing and all sound good to him.<br />
<br />
He's worked out the schedule. It'll be too overwhelming to try and fit all of these into a single work day, and he's concerned that he'll not be able to get much done. Therefore, he'll assign one science to each day and work just on that one. He'll work long days, but he would like a break from lunch each day. He'll work through weekends, but he'll take Mondays off. He'll work very, very hard, but the world will need him to study science.<br />
<br />
You go, little man.Ambleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997257400798994364.post-56549680189677335282012-04-03T18:31:00.001-07:002012-04-03T18:31:15.313-07:00Seven hoursOn Saturday, I took Aidan to the science museum here in town. It was a pretty spectacular day--we got to see exhibits, a double feature of imax films, and a local meterologist.<br />
<br />
On a side note, the meterologist, who's been on TV as far back as I can remember (which is saying something), asked Aidan whether he'd seen his forecasts. Aidan's reply? "Yes! Sometimes my daddy turns it on, but I don't really like it." Sorry.<br />
<br />
So, we're walking down the stairs an hour past Aidan's naptime, and I tell him that I think he's tired and we should go home now. "Who really cares what you think, anyway?" Really? His punishment is normally to sit on the stairs, and since we were on some already, I had him just sit down where he was. He kept saying, "Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!" They know.<br />
<br />
Seven hours later, I'd been dumped for basketball. We had tickets to the theater, but I took my sis so that Steven could watch the tournament. No problem. He was putting Aidan down for bed and came into the room to see Aidan kneeling in the middle of the bed, praying to Jesus (not an everyday event). Steven heard something like, "help bring her home safely." He asked Aidan what he was doing, and found out that he was praying for my safe return - you know, as though I'd gone off to war the year before. He said, "Aidan, she's only been gone two hours!" "Oh, Daddy--it seems like forever! I just hope Jesus brings her home safe to me. I miss her so much."<br />
<br />
Okay, that's undeniably cute. Really, though? Really? In the same span who really cares what I think anyway and also please, Jesus, please bring her back home to me? Okay....Ambleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997257400798994364.post-31210047735841678462012-03-20T18:47:00.000-07:002012-03-20T18:47:24.632-07:00one downI ran a 5k on Saturday - I didn't walk it, and I sprinted the end. I've never run a race before. I was completely surprised when I was tempted to try it. Lara spoke of how fun a race was, and traditionally my thought about running has been something akin to, "running is for people who are being chased." For some reason, though, I was tempted.<br />
<br />
Despite the fact that I've been busier this winter than normal, which is saying something, I completed a "couch to 5k" program that had me running three times a week, first 90 seconds at a time and then more until I ran outside last week. I really like it? I mean, I really like it!<br />
<br />
I still have an issue of getting going. It's hard to get myself to get out there and run, but I'm always so happy I did. I'm a little afraid that without a goal (read, "race") I won't be able to keep going, even though I know it's best for me to do it. I'll sign up for a 10k in June in hopes that that keeps me going (note that this week I haven't been out at all - ugh - training for the 10k starts April 15. Sure, I'm not feeling well and my hubby's working late, but could I find a way to make it work? Sure...).<br />
<br />
However, I ran my first 5k! I had a real number and results and everything! Good start.Ambleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997257400798994364.post-41687160498464756922012-03-15T19:22:00.000-07:002012-03-15T19:22:17.630-07:00I will not try to top this next yearAidan is five.<br />
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That would be enough for an entry - it's big.<br />
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But it's been quite a birthday week. Started with a party on Sunday, a pool party with 17 of his friends. It was fantastic - we went to a rec center, and even though it was March 11, we rode over in shorts and flip flops - amazing. The kids had a blast and played great together, the parents all loved it, the timing worked out, the food showed up - AND there were more presents than one child can mentally process. It was great. But that wasn't all.<br />
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The night before his birthday, he and I had pizza with our dear friend Lori and then spent the night with my folks and my sister's family (which includes his favorite sister). How awesome is that? But that wasn't all.<br />
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At 8:15, a fire truck pulled into my folks' driveway, there to drive him to school. His little friend Addison came over and rode with him, and her brother and Audrey (cousin) got to get into the truck and look around. I gave my seat to my dad, who might've been the most excited about the whole thing. The truck went to Aidan's school, and I rode in my car behind. When we got to the school, all of the kids were outside waiting for him, clapping. He got out of the truck, and my dad said that people should sing, so the whole school sang Happy Birthday to him. Aidan, Addison and Dad sat on the front of the truck for pictures, and then each class got to stand in front of the truck for their pictures. Even the babies in their wagons got to walk around and see the flashing lights. <br />
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It was amazing from so many angles - Addison's mom was crying (as was I) because it was so special. The teachers all thought it was amazing, the kids were awed, my dad was beyond. Even the firemen benefitted - they said that they'd never done this before, other than VIPs in parades. One had been on the force over 30 years and was never able to give his parents or kids a ride. He came to work having a bad day, and he said the kids completely brightened his day. He felt special when the kids said he was a hero, which he said he rarely hears.<br />
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Best $150 ever spent - we got it from a charity auction, and even better is that the money went to buy prom dresses (and accessories, shoes, bling, even hair and makeup) for girls who wouldn't be able to have them otherwise, to make them feel beautiful and special and magical.<br />
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Excellent week.Ambleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997257400798994364.post-585641594177016012012-02-27T15:53:00.002-08:002012-02-27T15:53:37.227-08:00already?Aidan to his Nonna on the phone a moment ago, about me: "She always acts crazy, like a total mom." I'm not sure whether to be proud or offended. I <em>am</em>a total mom, after all. Crazy doesn't seem too hot, though.Ambleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997257400798994364.post-18273915478430477652012-02-26T12:19:00.000-08:002012-02-26T12:19:11.232-08:00Birthdays are the currency of (almost) five year olds"If you do something great, "You're invited to my birthday!" If you don't, "Then you're not invited to my birthday!" (Nudges of, "Without me, there IS no birthday" are no help to that logic.) When Addison dumps Phillip and falls in love with Aidan, she's not invited to Phillip's birthday. Eventually, they're forgiven and birthday invitations resume. Aidan spends his time making tickets of sorts (the last set were swords cut out of paper and colored) and giving them to friends to show their admissibility to his birthday party. Birthdays are big. Really big.<br />
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Party's coming up - we bought actual invitations Friday, the kind that have details about the when and where of the party. Can't wait to hand them out at school tomorrow. It's a pool party at a rec center, and we're inviting the whole class. Big stuff. That's not the best part, though.<br />
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We're going to spend the night at my folks' house the night before his birthday as a special treat. He'll think that's the special treat. In fact, that morning, the morning he turns five, a fire truck will pull up to my folks' house and drive him to school. He doesn't know, but the school does, and they'll all be standing outside waiting for the firetruck to pull up when he gets there. It's the coolest thing I've ever heard of - I didn't even know it existed. We got it in a silent auction. I can't wait. <br />
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I. Can't. Wait.Ambleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997257400798994364.post-92183116578880914092012-02-26T12:04:00.000-08:002012-02-26T12:04:16.835-08:00nuancesWas just reading my last blogpost. I must be taking my baby's beginning of school harder than I thought, because I said he's starting college this year. It's actually kindergarten. Very, very slight difference.<br />
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I crack myself up!Ambleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997257400798994364.post-55742780492833443452012-02-07T20:36:00.000-08:002012-02-07T20:36:00.991-08:00Year of?Interesting, very interesting.<br />
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Year of journeys? I am decidedly not an athlete. I'm in week 6 of a 9-week "couch to 5k" program that will begin with my very first race ever (ever) and may or may not culminate in my trying a half marathon in October. One step (one workout) at a time - I don't look ahead.<br />
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Year of beginnings? Just got involved with a wonderful, amazing NFP. They help special needs pre-kindergarten kids see how beautiful they are, how much they can do, what they're capable of. I'm honored to be even slightly associated. I'm a zero! (Five-year commitment, and it starts in the fall.)<br />
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Year of fun? Said charity has an annual variety show - they raised about half a million dollars in one night (legally) last year. So far I've been asked to tap in the opening number. Thing is, I don't know how to tap dance. Details. Anyway, I haven't been involved in a theater production since 1990; no dance (or auditions) since 1989. Wow. Sounds like a blast!<br />
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Year of changes? We're hoping to live in a different house by the end of the year, my baby starts college, my work situation is changing slightly (working more - good stuff).<br />
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Year of grateful? There's a lot. I might be stressed, but I'm not - I'm excited! I'm a little proud of myself for that one. Not to mention my gorgeous husband, beautiful son, many blessings. Mmmm.<br />
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Year of open? I'm finding myself much better at not getting offended, taking suggestions, listening, getting better, coaching. Being open minded more. It's good.<br />
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Grateful - I like the grateful.Ambleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997257400798994364.post-79932220528221968052011-12-17T18:34:00.000-08:002011-12-17T18:34:58.195-08:00good days and better daysHard as it is to fathom, I was just writing (and, gratefully, deleted) a very ungrateful post. How can I be so ungrateful? And, dare I say it, about Christmas? It's too awful to contemplate.<br />
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Mid-way through, my Gorgeous started doing an amazing booty dance to the theme music to "Tangled," reminding me what an ungrateful wretch I was being. Seriously - just like that.<br />
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Practice what you preach, Sister.<br />
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Being involved with different volunteer opportunities and opening my eyes a little has been a constant reminder that I don't have bad days. I have good days, better days, and some really great ones. I don't wonder where my kid will get food or clothes, or whether he'll live to see his next birthday (a few freak, irrational panic attacks aside), or whether I married the right man, or why I'm unloved or alone.<br />
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Good reminder. Back on track. Lucky to be here.<br />
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Merry Christmas!Ambleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997257400798994364.post-43840184189566823632011-12-17T18:19:00.000-08:002011-12-17T18:19:43.010-08:00wait for it....From vaca - we're at our island away from the island, and it's about 4:30 - time to start packing up for the "ferry" (if you'd seen it, you'd know why I used quotation marks). My little Irish-skinned boy is very fair, so he's never been in the hot sun without one of those swim shirts that's SPF a billion or something. However, it was late in the day, weaker sun and such. And we needed him to dry out. So Steven took A's shirt off to dry, and A happily romped some more in the ocean.<br />
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Calling to his little friend Ava, 6 yrs old: "Wow! You wouldn't believe how wonderful the water feels on your skin without a shirt on. You HAVE to try it!"Ambleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997257400798994364.post-69636263725310452952011-12-05T19:00:00.000-08:002011-12-05T19:00:25.067-08:00the most annoying sound on earth or the cutest vacation story ever? both?We were driving from our resort to the airport, a trip that should've taken about 20 minutes and took over 2 hours. There was construction on the island, and the drainage isn't good, which causes a lot of the roads to flood. Lethal combination.<br />
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Factor two: the cars you rent on St. Martin are atrocious. They sort of run. The first time I had to apply the brakes, I discovered that it had no brake pads. None. Just grate and squeal.<br />
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So, we're driving through the rain on the way to the airport, brakes squealing. After a few minutes, we realize that Aidan's in the back seat humming, nay, singing along. Squealing along on the same note as the brakes. They'd go off and on, and he'd "sing" along with it as they did. He sang along with squealing brakes. Tell me that's not the coolest kid ever.Ambleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997257400798994364.post-7962016527226260772011-12-05T18:34:00.000-08:002011-12-05T18:34:14.799-08:00THIS is vacationI'm not going to lie - I'm typing this from St. Martin. THE St Martin. It's always amazing to have a week off, and even more amazing to have a whole week (a whole week) with my boys. Even more amazing in a place like this. Our condo is literally 5 feet from the ocean - if we open the balcony, some of the waves crashing in splash onto it. We can hear the waves and the crashing and feel the breezes all the time. Pretty great.<br />
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Today, though, we lucked out. We met a guy in the swimming pool the other day who recommended a day trip to us, and we took it today. Thanks, Tony. Amazing day. We took a ferry over to an even smaller, uninhabited island. It's got a couple of restaurants, chairs and umbrellas, and a really calm piece of ocean - soft, soft sand. It was so perfect. It's supposed to be awful out this week, but today the sky was blue, blue, blue. Just blue sky with the palm trees, the ocean, some good food and my boys. Little man floating in the ocean with his noodle, playing frisbee with us in the waves, laughing, building castles with his little friend Logan who happens to be three years to the day younger (met them today), making friends, touching the VERY fresh lobsters in a cage waiting in the ocean for someone to pick them for lunch. I know I'm fortunate all the time - days like today are just beyond.Ambleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997257400798994364.post-17429499520649139302011-11-29T15:23:00.000-08:002011-11-29T15:23:08.911-08:00um, what is that?Aidan has a terrible mark on his shoulder that wasn't there earlier in the day. Steven asked where it came from, and he showed us. Turns out, he was sucking on his own shoulder to see what it would feel like. That's right - he's given himself a giant (for him) hickey. Seriously? Do other children do this?Ambleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03999397016793452192noreply@blogger.com0