No Words

By now there is not a single person in this country who does not know about the terrible events of last Friday the 14th. The Sandy Hook Elementary School Massacre in Newtown, CT.
For the last three days the whole of the internet has been bursting with information updates about the shootings, the victims, the shooter... Every news site has been posting headlines non-stop, and every social media outlet has been overrun with posts; things like, "Prayers go out to the victims and their families..." "Hug your children tighter tonight..." "Pray for the teachers heading to work next week..." "Such a tragedy...." "Why was there no warning about something like this..." "More attention needs to be given to the mental health industry in America..." "If only God were allowed in schools, this never would have happened..." "There are just no words..." That's the one I've seen the most of, over and over - "There are no words" - which has been followed up by a myriad of paragraphs FULL of words saying how sad it is, how so-and-so's heart goes out to the victims, how they are praying for them and their families...

My Facebook profile has been purposely absent of any and all mention of the tragedy in CT. You see for me, as a parent of two small children (one of whom will start Kindergarden next year), there really and truly are NO words.

As soon as I heard about what had happened, I put myself in the mindset of one of the parents of those 20 murdered children. I imagined what would be going on in my mind if I sent my daughter to school, the same as every other day, only to find out later that she had been gunned down at her tiny little desk in her colorful little classroom by a monster with a semi-automatic assault rifle. After imagining all of that I sat down at my computer, ready to post some sympathy-filled status update on Facebook, and that's when it hit me - there are no words.
If I was one of the parents forced to live through Friday's horrible situation, there would be no words in the whole of the English language (or any language for that matter) that would ever come anywhere close to offering any sort of comfort. There is nothing that could be said by any friends or family members that would ease my suffering any tiny little bit. No words of condolences by state officials, and no offerings of hope and support from the President would ever be able to soften the blow of losing my child. The heartbreak I would suffer would be complete and unending, and no words from that moment forward to the end of my life would ever make anything better.

So here I sit, three days later, still with no words to offer up to anyone about what's happened, because there are none. My silence on the matter is all-encompassing of how I feel about this awful tragedy, and my silence is all I have to offer to the families of the 26 people who died at Sandy Hook Elementary on Friday. I know that nothing I could say to anyone one of them would offer any comfort, so I will give them my silent respect instead.

Sleep is for the weak...?

I have been having a problem as of late.

In the last few weeks I have been losing gobs and gaggles of sleep, and I have no idea why. I haven't changed anything in my eating habits or activities, I don't drink anything caffeinated past 1:00 in the afternoon, and I haven't started any new medications. And yet here I am, wakey wakey eggs and bakey. (Want proof that I'm sleep deprived? I just used a COMPLETELY lame phrase like 'wakey wakey eggs and bakey'.) For whatever reason, I go to bed by 9:00, fall asleep by 10:00 and wake up somewhere between 12:00-2:00 am and can't fall back asleep for the life of me. It isn't that I'm not tired... I'm CRAZY tired! I'm just not sleepy.

Then there's nights like tonight, where I haven't fallen asleep at all (for the record, it's currently 12:48 am).

So here I am, watching reruns of Supernatural on Netflix, blogging about something that is of no importance whatsoever in the real world, and updating my Facebook status about how I can't sleep (making me one of the Facebookers I can't stand). Joy.

Progress Report

Today is the start of Maron's 3rd week of preschool. She is in the M-W-F Pre-K program at Learn & Grow Preschool in Poulsbo, and she absolutely LOVES it. I mean, really. That girls was made to go to school. There are about 15 other kids in the class with her, so lots of interaction with other kids. She has two teachers that are very nice, and Maron is having the time of her life.

 

Now that she's in preschool she is doing a lot of writing and drawing. She's even started using scissors, and she's getting quite good with them. Every day when I pick her up there are two or three things (pictures, writing sheets, etc.) in her personal cubby outside of the class. I have a big manila envelope that I am keeping all of her art and school work in, and for the sake of sharing I've uploaded some photos of Maron's artwork so far.

 

 

A school bus that Maron cut out and glued onto the paper all by herself.

 

The color of last week was red.

 

This one Maron drew at home. It's a picture of her, Marida, Mommy and Stacy (her favorite doll).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Maron had no idea she could paint with fruit!

 

 

 

 

 

 

The World Turns

Today is the 11th anniversary of what is arguably the worst terrorist attack America has ever suffered. 9/11

I feel like I should be writing something monumental and important. I feel that because something SO terrible happened on this day 11 years ago, anything I post today should be somber and full of reflection. Or something meaningful and inspiring - words that deserve to live on forever. The problem is, I don't have any. At least, I don't have anything new. Everything that I am thinking or would choose to write about this day have already been thought/spoken/written about by far greater people than me.

So instead of filling the internet with more patriotic prattle, I am going to show how the terrorists haven't defeated my spirit by writing about something simple. Something that won't mean anything to anyone but me and my very closest family. I am going to talk about Maron't first day of preschool.

That's right - my first born daughter turned 4 last month, and yesterday she went to her very first day of Pre-K. She is attending the Learn & Grow Preschool in Poulsbo for the 12:30-3pm class on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. She's only gone one day so far, but she loves it! She's a big girl now, and getting to walk up the stairs to her school and hang her backpack up on a hook outside the classroom... these are the marks of true greatness. At least when you're 4.

So here's to my big girl. And here's to my little girl. And here's to America.

How has the human race endured this long?

Lately Marida has been in a hectic/frantic/destructive/desperate mood much of the time. There are days when she is all smiles and giggles, but (more often) there are days where all she does is roam the house, screaming at the top of her lungs while giant tears of agony roll down her face. These are the times when she is all but inconsolable, and it has become nigh unbearable for Steve and I to handle her. Why is she crying? What's the matter with her? What on earth is so wrong in her world? These are the questions we've been asking ourselves for weeks. And today - this nondescript, cloudy Tuesday - I've come up with the answer. The TERRIBLE TWO'S.

The realization hit me this morning as I was lugging bags out to the car in preparation for our 8 day Spokane trip (which starts tomorrow). Marida saw me walk out the front door and, devestated by me going outside while she was left to wallow in the prison that is the house, she stood at the front window, squeekily wiping her fists up and down the glass and screaming her little head off. Tired, exhausted and cranky Micah thought, 'What the hell is the matter with her?!' Then calm, rational and focused Micah (who has not been making nearly enough appearances lately) piped up with the thought, 'This must be why they call it the Terrible Two's.'

OF COURSE!!! It all makes sense!! THIS is what everyone has warned me about! THIS is why my hair has become 1/5 more gray in the last 5 weeks!

Now I know what you're thinking: 'Of course it's the Terrible Two's Micah, what the hell else did you think it was? It's not like this is your first kid, afterall.' But the fact of the matter is, in some ways this IS my first kid. You see, Maron was such a good baby, and such a good toddler that she lulled Steve and I into a false sense of security. We had no idea that Maron's behavior and attitude were the exception and not the rule. We spent the first two years of her life enjoying a calm, happy bliss and wondering what all the other parents in the world were bitching about. Then Marida came along, and it turns out SHE is what babies and toddlers are really like.

Can I just take a moment and say... HOLY [EXPLETIVE DELETED]. This girl - this sweet, beautiful, smiley little girl - has suddenly turned into this 30 lb ball of angst and defiance. She's turned into the girl who climbs onto everything, and reaches for everything that she's not supposed to have. And when I take the sharpie away from her, or pull her down from the exercise bike, she starts screaming and crying like the world is coming to an end. Apparantly every day that I tell her "NO" is the worst day of her life. And her denied chance of pulling the scaliding hot cup of coffee onto her head? That's the worst thing that's ever happened to anybody in the history of the world.

I love my daughter. I really, really do. And no matter how much she screams and cries I will continue to love her to the end of the world. But today is one of those days when I ask myself, "How did any child anywhere ever live past the age of 2?"

There is something you need to know about me. Something I'm not proud of. But because this is my life and my blog, I feel it's safe to share it here.
I am addicted to celebrity gossip.

Every morning when I get up, I come downstairs and sit at the computer. I have the same start of day internet routine: Log into Facebook and get caught up on everything that's happened since 8 pm the night before, go to the comic section of the Seattle Times' website and view the daily For Better or For Worse, LuAnn and Garfield comics, then go to People.com and check the headlines the see if anything outrageous and/or fantastic has happened in the celebrity world in the past 12 hours.

Don't judge me.

This morning when I logged on to People.com, I was both surprised and elated to read the headline TOM CRUISE AND KATIE HOLMES ARE DIVORCING. Yes, I know it's trivial. And yes, I know it makes me a bad person for being glad that a married couple is getting divorced. All the same, I was never a fan of the Holmes/Cruise marriage. I don't think anyone's been a fan of Tom Cruise since he divorced Nicole Kidman, because two seconds after he dumped her the gossip world blew up with all the bullhicky about Tom Cruise being a Scientologist. I had respect for TC before I found that out, as much of the world did. But the Scientology factor completely and totally soured Tom Cruise for me, as well as John Travola and Kirstie Alley.

The fact is, ever since Tom dumped Nicole he's been a frequent passenger on the 'Crazy Train'. And the fact that he sucked sweet little katie Holmes into his wierd Scientology world was very sad to the diehard Gossipteer's like me.

So there it is. Love me or hate me, I am a celebrity gossip fiend. And as such, I am very, very glad that the crazy, 'silent birth', 'two circle wedding ceremony' Scientology fest that was TomKat's calling card is coming to a close. Hurray to Katie Holmes for filing divorce papers! It's honest and true living proof that brainwashing doesn't last forever.

So last week I only ended up doing 4 days of Insanity. I didn't exercise on Friday or Saturday, but for a very good reason.

Friday morning Steve and I got the girls up at 4:30 and got in the car and drove to Spokane. We only went for 24 hours.

The reason for our trip? To sign papers on our HOUSE. That's right, OUR frickin' HOUSE!!! See, Steve and I decided a while ago that we wanted to move to Spokane to be closer to family. We're all alone here on our little (gray, wet, and dreary) peninsula since Steve's father died, and we're sick of it. We want our girls to grow up with a close relationship to their grandparents and cousins, etc, I want to be closer to my folks, and Steve wants to live in a town where his summer weekends won't be spent cleaning moss off the roof before fall comes and the moss starts growing again.

Our plan was to transition over there withing the next 3 to 5 years, after we finished our house in Kingston and found jobs in Spokane and whatnot. But our situation changed in various ways, and we found ourselves in a poisition to be able to buy a house now, even though we aren't ready to move just yet. So Mother's Day weekend we drove over to Spokane (for 24 hours) to look at a couple houses that we had found online and were interested in. The one we specifically wanted to see turned out to be a crap bag, but that's totally okay. Because it got us over there, and it led to us looking at our 2nd choice house which turned out to be PERFECT. Litereally... the moment we got out of the car and walked towards to front door we knew we'd found The One. The day after we got back from Spokane we put in an offer, after a little haggling we came to an agreement with the sellers and the house was on it's way to becoming ours. An inspection, an appraisal and a down payment later, I now have a key on my keyring that unlocks the front door of my dream house!!

Why yes, that would be my car in the driveway next to the SOLD sign.

The front of our new house.

Front side yard.

A peak into the GORGEOUS backyard.

View of the side. The top is our formal dining room and the bottom is the daylight basement window of the downstairs family room/play room.

Ahhh yeahhh...

This is our back yard.

This is also our back yard.

This is my kitchen with a hardwood floor and granite counter tops.

The formal living room.

The formal dining room.

The giant back deck.

Pretty sweet, yes?
Our plan at this point is to rent it out for a year. That will give us time to finish our house here in Kingston while the mortgage is being paid on our dream house. After a year we will move over there and start living the life that we want to live. Maron will turn 5 in August of next year, and I fully intend to enroll her in Kindergarden at Woodridge elementary (which is about a half mile from where we'll live). So get ready Spokane - Team Haag is coming your way!