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Connect 4

>> Wednesday, August 5, 2009 –  , , ,

Remember that game? Raidhyn, for some reason, thought it would be fun if we bought it for Mikey to play with. He was right, although Mikey is only 23 months old and can't actually play it properly, he love love loves putting the little coins in the slots. He's had some fine motor issues (just a bit behind), so I think it might actually help him. He's already getting better at it, and wow does it keep him quiet for like 10 minutes! Until the time comes for me to walk past what he's doing and trip over coins. I think between that, the lego and toy cars, my feet are ripped to shreds and don't even talk to me about having to pick up all of the pieces.

Last night I played Left for Dead with the hubby and one of his friends (who was playing online). I think I shot them more than I did the zombies, I'm no good with Xbox controllers. One stick to look and another to move is a bit much for me. The boys were very sweet about it though, putting up with my girl questions and comments, "How do I shoot?!" "How do I reload?!" "Oh, I'm stuck... how do I stop looking up?!" "Oh the bad guy got me again! Help me!" I think Raidhyn just wants me to play again, he told me I did very well (yeah right!) for someone who doesn't play those sort of games EVER.

Raidhyn is away "learning to to teach preggo PT" for a few days this week. Yesterday he came home and said "I learned about Kegel exercises!" Oh wow. I just sniggered to myself imagining a room full of soldiers learning how to do those. Yeah...


And i'd just like to add... i started sanding down the end table from Mikey's room. By Hand. I need to buy a sander machine thing. This is hard work.


P.S. Where does one apply to be excused from Army Wife / Ridiculous Little Girl (who, ZOMG, like, loved highschool and college so much she wants to relive it for the rest of her life) Drama 101?

>>  Posted by satakieli at 7:41 AM |   |  send email  | 

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I am a 24 year old British stay at home mother to a two year old boy. Married to a U.S. soldier and currently living in Germany.

I have seen the Vatican from the very top of St Peter's Basilica, the mud in the World War I trenches outside Ypres. I have walked through Montmartre side streets bustling with people in the evening, gotten lost in the streets of Greenwich Village NYC, run through cornfields on the Welsh border and sat outside with a cup of tea watching fireflies in the fields of the outer Chicago suburbs.

I have held the hands of others through addiction, fear, suicide, despair and come out the other side. I have left everything behind to begin anew.
I have fought mental illness and walked through snow in the mountains of the lake district, England. I have explored the morgue in the bowels of an abandoned hospital on a summer evening, climbed to the top of scaffolding on the outside of a five floor warehouse to look at the city lights of Nottingham at night and I have watched the sun setting on the Texas horizon.

I have held my son's tiny hand through the plastic window on an isolette in the NICU ward. Walked, speaking only in whispers, through the catacombs beneath the ground on the outskirts of Rome and seen the fireworks over Heidelberg castle.

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