One from the road

I am happy to report that after a long 20 hour car ride filled with screams for Blue's Clues, more water, and random flailing about in one's car seat we have arrived at my parent's house. I will write more about what is going on in our little homecoming world soon but in the meantime I wanted to share something I learned on our journey.

While driving down I-95 I discovered that it is a colossally bad idea to get a personalized license plate that reads 1BIGQT. The primary reason you should step away from this license plate is because from far away it looks like "one bigot" which is, to say the least, a touch disturbing. The secondary reason to avoid this particular monicur is that there are weirdos like me who will speed up next to you just to see who in the world would put that on their license plate only to discover that it does, in fact, say "one big QT" and that while the BIG is accurate the QT is, um, not.

Jet noise

For the better part of three years the Blue Angels have been a consistent part of our lives. Several times a week they practice on their home runway which happens to be across the water from our home. At 0900 sharp the roar of the jets approaches, zooms past and back again at what seems to be lightning speed. The windows shake as we are reminded of the power behind these awesome aircraft.

I am not going to lie; when we first moved in it scared the crap out of me a few times. I couldn't decipher the tell-tale hum of the engines starting, that TED repeatedly attempted to point out, indicating that things were about to get a little noisy. Frequently I would be shushed mid-conversation because he had heard that sound that he loved so much. I made fun of his super-power hearing, chalking it up to the fact that he flew the hornet and was all too obsessed familiar with the noise. But as time went by I found myself stopping when I heard the hum; silently acknowledging- here we go; it is about to start.

These days LM doesn't seem to recognize the hum but the beginning of the roar of the engines sends him running to the backyard to see the "ahpanes". He points and laughs as they roll and zoom through the sky. I watch as their diamond formation gets closer and closer to perfection and marvel at the fact that my husband flies that same aircraft. I smile to myself and wonder if my little boy will follow in his Dad's footsteps and learn to fly those amazing jets. I ponder how long hornets will be in our lives.

The past two days have filled our home with extra booms, windows shakes, and noise. The annual homecoming show is here; marking the end of another Blue Angel season. As I attempted to distract LM from the scary and unfamiliar booms that were occurring, while reminding him of his love for the "ahpanes" I realized this would be the last time we saw the Blues fly over our home. There would be no more Blues jet noise. It was time to move on. With every pass and maneuver I felt a twinge of sadness. This part of our journey, like the Blues season, is over. It is time to begin again.

I envision this sad, yet hopeful feeling, continuing as we prepare for our PCS. I wonder what will be in store for us in the next leg of our journey with the Marine Corps. What noises will mark portions of our days or weeks, which sights will remind us that life is moving on as it should? I suppose all I can hope for is that each new noise, like this jet noise, continues to mark the sound of freedom.

Extra helping

Had lots of pictures of Little man this week so I thought I would share an extra to make you smile this weekend...



He and I wish you a fun and relaxing weekend.