Halloween- We're off to see the Wizard

Halloween can be tricky in a foreign country. Especially when you don't have a neighborhood. Luckily the various bases out here are very creative and do what they can to make Halloween as enjoyable as possible for the kiddies. I know you're all dying to hear about it! So let's get to it.

Our plan was to be characters from the Wizard of Oz.

Charlie would be Dorothy. Sierra would be the Wicked Witch. Marcus would be the Scarecrow and I would be the Tin Man.
But thanks to a shortage of silver face paint, and Marcus being sent to Guam, I became the Scarecrow.

The Halloween Festivities started early and on the 30th I got the girls in their costumes and we went with the Franks to have some good, clean, Halloween fun. Camp Foster, the base where we're staying, held an event called "Trunk or Treat". It's called Trunk or Treat because instead of being held in a neighborhood it's held in an empty lot where people park their cars and the kids go from trunk to trunk to trick or treat for candy. Sounds lame right? Wrong!! There were tons of kids there and these people really go all out with their trunk decorations.

Here are some of my favorite pictures of the night.

Dorothy and the Princess (Charlie & Summer).

The girls and Superman, Conner, who as you can tell was not the least bit interested in posing for my pictures.


Sierra hanging out with a fireman and Scooby Doo.

The kids running around having a great time.


A couple decorated cars.

Charlie trunk or treating.

JAWS!!!! -Check out the scuba diver that Jaws ate on the way over.

This gets my vote for Best Costume Of The Night!

After scaring Summer half to death the wearer of this costume lifted his mask to reveal himself as a regular 10 or 12yr old kid. When I asked him what he was trick or treating as, he told me he was... wait for it... the Economy.

How hilarious is that?!

More pictures of my beautiful girls :).



At the end of the night Dorothy and the Wicked Witch had a spit bubble contest. Dorothy should've known that she could never compete with the Wicked Witch in something as vile as blowing spit bubbles.

October 31st

When the girls woke up on Halloween they wanted to get into their costumes immediately. We ran a few errands and you'll never guess who we ran into at the grocery store...

It was Glenda the Good Witch, the Tin Man and the Cowardly Lion!!!

Later that evening, the Scarecrow joined Dorothy and the Wicked Witch for trick or treating.

Charlie and Summer were joined at the hip.

This is Dorothy catching a glimpse of what happens when you cross the Wicked Witch. The poor, headless soul laying behind her incurred the Witch's wrath and met a horrible fate.

Unfortunately, later that night, so did the Scarecrow.

Charlie's First Day Of School (written Oct 29th)

I remember when it was just me and her (and my big ol' nose).

Toward the very end of my pregnancy I was huge and miserable and I wanted her out. For a number of reasons. I wanted her to meet her father. I wanted to be able to see my feet. I wanted my bladder back. But a big part of me was afraid. Not of labor. I mean she was a big baby, 8lbs7oz, but that part didn't worry me. What worried me was that I just wasn't sure if I was ready to share her with the rest of the world. For nine whole months she had been all mine and I kind of wanted it to stay that way.
I hadn't yet laid eyes on her but I knew she was perfect. She had all her fingers and toes, everything was in the right place, her heart was strong and according to my gut so were her legs. She responded to my voice, she made me smile and she laughed at all my jokes (at least I imagined she did). Then she was here. This little angel. Marcus and I were more in love with her than we had ever been with anything... ever... and I really didn't want to share her with anyone.

It feels like it was just yesterday.

But in reality, this was yesterday.

Here is my Charlie, my three year old, ready for school. She wanted to wear a dress on her first day... and her pink crocs... and her hair down.
I got up early that morning to make sure she had everything she would need. I packed her Dora lunch bag with the essentials which included a capri sun, chocolate pudding and inside shoes (the kids here wear separate shoes for outside play so they don't get their classroom floor dirty). And when she she woke up she eagerly got ready for her big day. Just before we left she asked me for a tictac so, in her words, her breath would be fresh and we were out the door.
I wasn't sad like some mother's are on their child's first day. I was actually really excited for her. She had been asking us since we got to the island when she would start school and the day was finally here. The drive was surprisingly short and we were there before we knew it . We checked in at the office and as we walked to her class I remembered my husband's warning the night before... Don't embarrass her!!... which reminded me to get out my camera and take a few pictures.


She couldn't get in the door fast enough. But before going inside she turned to me and hugged my waist. Can I have a kiss? She nonchalantly laid one on my hand which was resting on my hip. On the lips?? She looked up at me with these little eyes that seemed to be telling me that she wasn't about to risk her first impression by kissing her mom in full view of the other kids. So I said goodbye and let her go.

When I picked her up a few hours later she told me about all her new friends and how they liked her dress, and her hair. She was practically bursting with excitement. She was excited about getting to know them. She was excited about learning. She was excited about feeding the class turtle. And as I listed to her tell me about her day I realized that sharing my baby wasn't such a scary thing... well, at least not with a bunch of 3-6yr olds.

Picture of the week

I ate octopus.

Well, my plate didn't look like that. I pulled that picture from the internet. Haha.

My plate looked like this...

Here's the story.

Last Sunday we went to Kelly's birthday party, she's one of the wives. It was at a beach, there was tons of food and I was very hungry. So I went to one of the tables and, without asking anyone what the heck I was picking up, proceeded to grab something big and fried. It looked sort of like a chicken strip but even in my state, near starvation, I knew better. So instead of biting directly into it I peeled back the fried batter and took a good look... all I saw was suction cups. I was immediately queasy!! But I also felt like I had to eat it. I mean I didn't want to be rude. You don't just go to someones party, grab the biggest Octopus tentacle on the platter and then throw it away. So I held it. I showed it to Marcus and asked him what I should do. Throw it away. I asked another guest and her husband what I should do. Throw it away. So... I threw it away. Sorry Kelly.

The next day I called Tim. Tim is one of my dearest friends, a teammate of mine from UofA Track&Field, who moved to Japan after college and lived there for a few years. I told him about my octopus fiasco and he immediately got on my case and told me that I had to try octopus at least once. He said it actually tastes really good and I would be doing myself a disservice if I lived in Japan and didn't venture out and experience any new things.

Fast forward to last night.

We were at a sushi restaurant where the chefs make tons of food, place it on this conveyor belt, and as it goes by you pick up what you want. So I'm getting typical stuff, salmon, spicy tuna, etc. Then I see it. Octopus. Coming right for me. At first I let it pass. Then I yell for Marcus to grab it before it goes by him. As I look at it all I can hear is Tim yelling at me for not being adventurous enough and before I know it I'm picking it up with my chopsticks, dipping it in soy sauce and eating it. The verdict... Not bad. Not great, but not bad. It was just like Tim described it actually- sort of like lobster, but rubbery... maybe it was more like calamari, but a little tougher. Either way I didn't enjoy it enough to try again, but at least I can say I've tried it.

Vocabulary lesson: Gaijin/ CoCoJin

We took this picture yesterday at the Sunabe Sea Wall.

The space on the wall between my girls says Welcome to the Gaijin Ghetto.

This is your vocabulary lesson for today.

Gaijin (pronounced GUY-GIN) is a Japanese term used here to describe foreigners. Gai means outside. Jin means person. Put it together and you have Gaijin... Outside person... Foreigner.

In terms of world trade, Gaijin is used to describe a non-Japanese investor in Japan. In everyday terms Gaijin is pretty much used to describe everyone who is not Japanese. If they see someone who is, let's say Spanish- they're Gaijin, Indian- Gaijin, White- Gaijin. It's great for Okinawans cause they don't have to figure out where anyone is from. If they're telling a story and use the term Gaijin it's understood that they don't know (and most likely don't care) where the person is from, they just know they're not from here.

Easy enough to understand right... WRONG!! Apparently some people find the term extremely offensive. I've found just in the little bit of research I've done for this post that even some Japanese people agree that it can be, and sometimes is, used in a derogatory way while others think it's complete nonsense that folks have- and I quote- "made up a definition for a word based on their own insecurities." It's actually a very heated topic of conversation. I don't know anyone who has been offended by the term and I've yet to hear the term actually come out of someones mouth to describe me but I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that I doubt I'd be offended if I did hear it.




Vocabulary lesson- Part Two

On our way to the sea wall we drove by a Japanese Elementary school and Marcus mentioned that he told one of his coworkers we were thinking about sending Charlie to a Japanese Preschool.

His coworker responded, "Just so you know, if you hear the term CoCoJin... (yes, readers you know exactly where I'm going with this)... don't be offended, it's not derogatory, that's just what they might say to describe your kids."

Wow. That's cute. While Gaijin is used to describe a foreigner, CoCoJin is obviously used to describe a foreigner who is the color of cocoa! I'm laughing just typing this mess.

Again, not sure whether those who are offended by the term Gaijin expect me to be extra offended by the term CoCoJin, but if they do they will be disappointed. Gaijin literally means "outside person" and that's what I am. Nothing to be offended about there. CoCoJin is meant to mean "outside person, color of cocoa". Again, I say that's what I am. On a side note I looove my cocoa colored skin so there's definitely nothing to be offended about there :).



Seriously. Gaijin, CoCoJin... as long as you don't call me nigger it is all to the good.

Downside

I'm sad.

This morning Marcus left to go to Guam for 2weeks.

This shouldn't be a big deal. He leaves for work (and the military) all the time.

The truth is we've never really been in the same place together, with no interruption, for very long. The first year, 2002, was long distance. The second year dealt us an 8mo deployment to Iraq. The fourth year sent him to Georgia for training for 4mos while I stayed in Arizona. The fifth and sixth years were peppered with many small trips- 4wks here, 3wks there, 2weeks here, 5wks there. And this year, our seventh year, handed us our second Iraq deployment (4.5mos).

Point is, this measly 2wk trip to Guam shouldn't bother me. I should be fine! But I'm not. I miss him so much already and I want to do nothing more than lay on the bed and have a good cry.

But I won't.

Not because I'm tough but because I'm a mom and if I let on that I'm sad then my girls will be sad, and I can't have that. I think that's the only downside to being a parent. Once you have children your life is no longer about you and I don't mind that as much... but your emotions aren't about you either and that gets me sometimes. You have to put on a happy face no matter what is going on in your life or your heart. Don't get me wrong, in some cases I think that's a great thing. I know that if something horrible happened in my life and I wanted to fall apart, knowing that I have to be my best self for them would force me to hold it together... And that would be a good thing...

But right now I just want to be sad.

PS. I allowed myself the time to be selfish and feel a little sad while I wrote this blog... but that's over. So don't leave any comments that will bring me down :). I'm serious. I've done a really good job being positive since I've been here and can't afford to get caught up in those types of emotions.

Marcus if you're reading this I love you!! Be safe!!

Picture of the week...sneak preview

I stole this idea from my friend Brianna.
Every Sunday evening (Saturday morning for those of you located in the States) I will post an interesting or funny picture and a story about some amazing adventure that took place during the week. I'm hoping that this will, in addition to being something fun for you, encourage me to continue to get out and see/do new and exciting things.

The following photos are what you can expect from my Picture of the week. These photos are of things that have scared the sh*t out of me, things that I thought were really cool and unexpected, or things that have made me just go WTF.
Please enjoy :).


HABU SAKE



















Yes those are real snakes.
Yes you are supposed to drink that stuff.
No I've never seen anyone do it.
I took this picture one of my first nights on the island. The Habu is a poisonous pit viper. The Sake isn't sake at all, it's awamori which is a very strong liquor created through distilling rice.
There are all sorts of reasons people trick themselves into drinking this craziness. They say the snake's body contains 19 amino acids that are beneficial to humans. They say the poison dissolves in the alcohol and poses no risk. They say it gives men lots of stamina in the bedroom. They say it gives a great buzz...
You know what- Tequila also gives a great buzz.

I say, "No Thanks!"




Rolling 60's... WTF




My thoughts exactly.
This is pure foolishness!
I don't know precisely where we were when I took this picture but I do know where we weren't! I hate to disappoint but there are NO Rolling 60's Crips in Japan- they're all in South Central, LA.
If a Japanese kid did this my message to you is, "Give it up. You're not a crip. I'm sure there are plenty Japanese gangs for you to affiliated yourself with. Try one of those." If a Service Member or the child of a Service Member did this my message to you is, "Give it up. You're not a Crip either. Maybe you used to be or always wanted to be, but once you joined the service (and moved to Japan) you kind of made a decision... and you really can't be both."




SLICE OF JAMAICA




You can't tell but 2 of these guys have dreads down to their waists.



Who knew there would be any type of Jamaican anything in Okinawa? There are Jamaican music stores, there are Jerk Pits, and there's this- A Jamaican Restaurant on the beach. The music, food and atmosphere were all authentic (at least to me they were). I need Marcus' Jamaican friends to come visit us to tell us what they think!

*Slice of Jamaica is NOT the name of the restaurant by the way*

Welcome Nikkie

Last week the "Wives" got together at Chili's to welcome little old me to "The Group". Stacy, who has been there for us since that first night at the airport, set it up. The initial email that went to "The Group" had many recipients but I wasn't sure how many of the ladies would be there. I mean, does anyone really care to meet the wife of the new guy in the office... well, Yes! I was pleasantly surprised to see the turnout and even more surprised, and impressed, that all the ladies knew each other. I mean they really knew each other. I sat there as they all filed in, giving each other hugs and asking about kids who were sick and parents who had come to visit. And as we sat and ate and I got to know them, I realized that I was now a part of a "community". A group of ladies who cared for each other by sharing information and resources, who watched each others children and supported one another during deployments. Ladies with different personalities and dispositions ranging from quiet and reserved to in-your-face hilarious, who in different circumstances probably wouldn't even be friends but here were like family. I though to myself that this was a nice group to be a part of.

Then it happened. Choking. Coughing. More choking. I knew Charlie was choking on her tortilla chips before I even looked at her. It was quiet for a split second, almost like everyone was making sure they were hearing what they thought they were hearing. Then, before I knew it the entire table was moving. Hands were flying everywhere. Things were shoved aside so we would have room to help CC or so they simply wouldn't be knocked over. It wasn't chaotic though, it was more like a well oiled machine. Before I could ask for it, a glass of water was in front of us. Then a stack of napkins. Charlie starts to throw up. I put my hand under her chin and crack a joke hoping that no one is too grossed out- We're all mothers here right?- Everyone laughs. The help keeps coming. A plate appears underneath my hand. Then more napkins. Teresa offers baby wipes. Then as quickly as it came, it's over. Charlie is okay. Everything is clean. I'm awed at how quickly everyone moved. Wow! THIS is what it's like hanging out with a bunch of moms! Yeah, a nice group to be a part of indeed.