Show up

I've been thinking about writing to you lately. Lots of snippets and little blurbs being composed in my head but never seeming to make it to pen and paper or the keyboard.  My one bit of advice for the day?  Show up.  Just show up.  Make the effort, take the time, MAKE the time and show up.  People remember.

Speaking of showing up, your Uncle John came to visit us yesterday.  There was a Virginia Tech game on Saturday and your Uncle drove down from Rhode Island Friday evening. Eleanor has been straining the limits of sleep deprivation lately (hers and mine) and decided to take a quickie nap in the middle of the afternoon which allowed her to stay up until ten thirty that evening when Uncle John arrived.  Am trying to be impressed with her energy and resourcefulness of coming up with so many different reasons to stay awake and leave her bed, but by nine I'm usually ready to go to bed myself. 

Your dad came home from his trip to San Diego late Friday night, early Saturday morning so that we could have pancakes for breakfast.  Uncle John stayed until after the first batch was served and then headed off to his game with lots of hugs and sugar from you girls.  All except Jordan, of course. Not even a smile.  You should have seen her face when Jordan saw Uncle John at the counter between her and me.  Not happy. Not happy at all. 

Sunday morning Uncle John was back and we decided to skip church this week in favor of spending time actually being able to talk with him before he got on the road to head north.  Clothes on, shoes on, diapers and snacks packed- off we go to the Marine Corps Museum to fulfill the promise we made to Eleanor when we went to the playground and didn't take her into the museum to see the guy with blood. Okay, you are kids. I can see the allure of going in to see the planes and helicopters and the guy lying there with blood on his leg. But when you are so excited, do you have to be so very, very LOUD about it?  I swear, every time we go into the museum, I'm sure I can see the docents cringing and every other visitor turning around to stare.  Yes, I'll get over this. Probably around the time you guys turn into teenagers and think that everyone is staring at you. 

The high point of the day was when we finally found your dad's brick.  Three years ago I bought your father a brick that would be laid along the pathway of the Marine Corps Museums pathway up to the chapel.  It's laid at the very top of the path between Galawa and Guadacanal, right where the pretty chapel rock hard scaping splits the path.  We've never seen it- usually too distracted with going into the playground to hike up the hill and try to convince you not to play on the oh so lush looking grass.  Luckily, Uncle John was with us and helped us take a picture!