Day 278

Finally! No hassle printing!  It's wireless...and it works! I wonder if a fabulous book deal will appear if the whole Ghost Clan takes the $#%^ Kodak piece of hoot out to the back yard and dances naked around it while we demolish the thing...

Day 266

Christmas from Ghost Hunk!  Yes!  My Christmas wish came true!  Now I just have to figure out how to operate it.  Two of the most amazing gifts ever...something to satisfy the photo nut in me and affirmation of my writing life. Thank you, my love.  That kind of support means more than I can say...

Day 207

My birthday present from my sister arrived exactly one week early. I haven't opened it yet, but already I feel extra special.  My favorite part is my sister's beautiful artwork and the heartwarming message that truly makes me feel as though the day I was born is something important.  I love you, big sis!

Day 206

It's Red Ribbon week at Ghost Daughter's school, and today is "Boot out Drugs" day.  Since Ghost Daughter doesn't have any boots of her own right now, we tried a pair of mine.  EGADS!  The girl can now wear Mama's boots!  Ghost Hunk is a little freaked out by the fact that my boots have a little bit of a heel on them.  They're just cowboy boots, Daddy!

Day 203

THE PRIZE

The man did what he went to do.  He completed his first 1/2 marathon in under 1 hour 50 minutes and placed second in his age group.  We're proud of him!

Day 202

Ghost Hunk is running his first 1/2 marathon this weekend.  Yep, even scruffy he looks pretty studly!

Day 166

Ghost Daughter got her first glasses today!

Day 161 — Remembering 9-11-2001

9-11 through the eyes of a 4-year-old.  

We were living in Indiana at the time.  We had our routine.  6-month-old Ghost Daughter was asleep in her crib while I helped Ghost Son get ready for preschool.  Usually I would flip the television to an episode of Rugrats before we ran our little buddy up to the church for preschool.  For some reason on that day ten years ago, I clicked over to the news for just a minute.  But that minute became devastating history that was unfolding before our eyes. 

The first plane had just hit the north tower.  "Mama, why is that building on fire?" my son asked.  At that point, no one really knew for sure what had happened.  All we knew is that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center.  As we listened to Matt Lauer speculate over the details and watched the smoke billow from the middle of the tower, the second plane crashed into the south tower.  At first, we could not see the plane that hit it.  But then the network found another camera angle that showed flight 175 arcing headlong into the tower, like a hawk swooping in to snatch its prey.  

We were stunned.  Speechless. Trying to believe what our eyes forced upon us.  Ghost Hunk was in the bedroom getting dressed to run our buddy to school while Ghost Son sat on the couch and nibbled on his poptart, unable to fathom the meaning of what was on the TV screen.  Was it a movie? Was it real?  30 minutes later, news came that a plane had crashed into the pentagon.  I screamed to Ghost Hunk, "They hit the Pentagon!"  We were under attack.  

Somehow, we made the choice to take Ghost Son to preschool as usual, only a mile or so away.  While the ghost men were gone, the north tower fell.  In a cloud of ash and debris and what remained of a thousand lives, it was gone.  "It's gone!" I said to Ghost Hunk when he walked in the door.  "It's just gone!"  He could not understand what I said.  He thought the smoke had simply obscured our vision.  

I had just stepped in the shower when Ghost Hunk came in, tears in his eyes.  "It's gone he said."  

"I know."

"No, it's gone.  All of it.  Both of the towers have fallen."

We held each other and cried.  As the day wore one, we heard of the heroism of the people on flight 93 who chose to stand up to the hijackers and crashed the plane into a field in Shanksville rather than let the terrorists take down the White House or the Capitol.  All day long, the images played on the TV screen.  I kept it on in the bedroom.  I could not turn it off.  While the kids played or watched Wild Thornberries in living room, I would duck into the bedroom for another look.  It just could not be real.  

Ghost Son knew something big had happened.  Something that would change our world forever.  He did not understand it all, but he was moved to draw it.  When he showed me this picture, I knew instantly what it was, but I asked him to tell me about it.  

"It's the fire, Mama.  And these are the people.  I want to show it to the bad men so they can see the people and maybe they'll feel bad and they won't do this anymore."

Let's hope that such lessons are possible, that such hope can rule the world instead of hate.  We did not know anyone who died in the attacks, but for all those who were lost or broken by the events of that day, we will never forget.  

  

Day 130

It really is that time of year again.  Tomorrow is the first day of school.  Ghost Son has two backpacks to bustle off to high school and Ghost Daughter has hers stuffed with all the essentials as well.  Ghost Son is excited and nervous and wishing there was a little more summer, but he is proud of the summer homework he did and looking forward to leaping off on the right foot for Freshman year.  Ghost Daughter is just looking forward to being busy again.  And mama...wishes they wouldn't grow up so darn fast.

Day 128

Courtesy of the iPhone:  Yikes!  Let High School begin...!  It was open house and Ghost Son got to see all of his teachers and classrooms...and the mascot.  A bit overwhelming perhaps.

Day 78

Warning to the men:  Chick stuff here.

On this Father's Day, the boys went their way (to see The Green Lantern) and the girls did their own thing after a lovely family brunch.  With the men out of the house, Ghost Daughter and I had our own little spa day and the talk.  Who knows when puberty will strike the big blow, so I've prepared our girl for what is to come.  

We had tea and M&Ms while we talked about the changes her body is going through and looked through this fabulous little book, Just For Girls.  I had samples of the necessities so they would not be so scary and took her through the general routine.  Then we talked about skin care and painted fingernails and ran pink streaks through her hair just for fun.  (It washes out with the next shampoo).  

So while the men were out getting their macho fix, Ghost Daughter and I had some good old-fashioned girl talk.  HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!