Anyone Else But You

...from Juno.

I watched this movie with Dylan recently, and he's been singing this song to me since. The sound of his laughter heals my heart.

I Love Storms

We have been under a Severe Thunderstorm Watch most of the evening. I love storms, especially when there is good rumbling thunder and bright lightning. There is nothing as soothing as laying in bed in the dark and hearing the rain chatter as it comes down.

I can remember as a small child standing backwards on my grandparent's sofa staring out the picture window as storms would roll in - my grandmother always joined me, and I'm sure I got my love of the storm from her. I have a feeling this all started as her way of teaching me I didn't need to be frightened, and it simply grew into one of our little traditions...one I gladly passed on to my sons.

Mundane or Magnificent

There are things...simple, everyday, ordinary things that bring me a great deal of pleasure. It's not that they are so extraordinarily special in the whole realm of experiences - I believe it is because they are moments I haven't always been able to enjoy, at least not on a regular basis.

I love, in no particular order...

• The way towels smell and feel when I'm taking them from the dryer - especially if I get to them just as the cycle finishes. They are warm and full and smell so clean. It reminds me of being a girl and being wrapped in a warm towel by my grandmother after a bath.
• Stepping into a warm shower and standing there while the water wets my hair, with no regard for how long that takes.
• Playing my music really loudly while I do chores around the house. Dancing, prancing, singing with no regard for anything but how good it feels to be moving and expressing myself without a trace of self-consciousness.
• Hugging my sons - all 6 feet plus of them. They are the only people in the world who wrap their arms around me and hold me, and let me do the same. And they don't let go until I'm ready.
• Warm chocolate chip cookies, fresh from the oven, with a nice tall glass of cold milk.
• Crawling into bed after the linens have been changed and the bed is nice and fresh. I so enjoy pulling on the sheet until it is loose along the side (so I can stick my foot out) and moving all the pillows until they are just right. I never sleep as well as I do that very first night of remaking the bed.

So, nothing uncommon or unique, but still all exceptional to me.

House of Cards by Radiohead

Why? Because I've been unable to stop listening to "In Rainbows", unable to stop watching the live clips recorded in the basement, unable to satisfy my craving for this sound.

I was a late bloomer, not really coming to Radiohead until my mid 30s (gasp), but I think I have more than made up for that. I'm kinda like a junkie. In a good way.

Missing My Big Baby

One thing that Justin and I really enjoyed was watching Eddie Izzard. I brought Eddie home with me from London (not literally, of course) and introduced him to both boys. Naturally, they were both a bit put off by the makeup - but once they got past the way he looks, they fucking loved what he was saying. This particular bit about the Death Star is the one piece Justin would play over and over. So, because I miss him terribly and it makes me a bit happy to post something that he will read when he's home and be pleased I was thinking/writing/talking about him. First up is the scene from Eddie's "Circle".



This is a really clever lego version of the Death Star Canteen bit.

Finally...A Real Letter From My Recruit

Justin has been gone for 2 1/2 weeks now and I've been just dying to get a "real" letter from him. I received the photocopy telling me his mailing address, and some do's and don'ts (DO write often - DO NOT send candy) but haven't been able to relax because I wasn't sure how he was really doing.

Today it finally arrived - my first letter. He is making friends and enjoying himself (when he has time to consider it) but has a big case of homesickness. It's completely understandable - he has never been away from his family for an extended period of time, and certainly never been so disconnected from all of us. I have been writing daily in the hopes it will help, but seeing "Please write me" in his handwriting nearly broke me. I know this is all part of becoming a man and a Marine, but as his mother I just want to make it all better, RIGHT NOW. I have a feeling this is why recruits don't have phone privileges. And it's probably for the best, because if he knew how sad I am about him missing me it would likely make it that much worse.

So he's becoming a Marine, and I have to become a Marine Mom. Who ever knew it would be so tough?

You see Justin above, wearing his brother's "Rainbows Are Gay" shirt, direct from London. He is surrounded by a few of the lovely ladies from his graduation class while they celebrate at his going away party. I really miss that smile.

What's a Mother To Do?

My son Justin decided he wants to be a Marine. I've no idea who set the thought in his head (lucky for he/she/it) but I can tell you that once it got there it was impossible to change his mind. Not that I really tried, it seemed that if this was the path he has chosen, I should be supportive. So I did, or at least, I did my best. I would, on occasion, ask if he was sure this is what he wanted. And when he replied, "Yes, Momma, I'm sure" (which he did 100% of the time) I would smile and move on to another subject.

But then it was time to let him go, literally. I had to drop him off at his recruiter's office and watch him climb into a bus along with a group of like-minded kids, each making this journey, each for a different reason. I got a bit emotional thanking his recruiters for their support and promises to keep me informed, but I'm sure they've seen that enough times it wasn't too terribly uncomfortable for them. I walked him outside and he turned to hug me goodbye. I thought I really handled myself well, and was doing a great job of keeping myself together. Then I realized he had said my name a couple of times and was trying to unwrap himself from my arms.

Well, I tried.

He has arrived safely in San Diego, and is doing what he wanted to do.

I think it's interesting that he was reading a book called "Becoming A Man" the week before he left. When I asked him about it, he reminded me of something I said to him years ago, which he apparently never forgot - "You don't become a man simply because you get older - it's something you have to work at." My sadness at him being gone is tempered by a sense of pride that I can't verbalize without getting all emotional. He has set a lofty goal for himself, and is doing his very best to make it happen.

Justin made me promise to post a picture of him being goofy, to remind me of how much he tried to make me laugh that morning. The one above was taken as we were preparing to head into town. And it works like a charm, most of the time.