Heigh-Ho, Heigh-Ho…

I have to remember to stop for gas.

I’m going to work this morning! I’ll be sharing the road with other Commuters, going to their Jobs. I spent all last night updating my corporate vocabulary (‘downsize’ is now ‘uptick’, ‘leverage’ is ‘offshore’, and the phrase ‘work smarter not harder’ has been reduced to just ‘work harder’). I also spent a considerable amount of time in the last week reciting the Astronaut’s Prayer.

I’m hoping to find a ride share after a week or two. My commute is going to be pretty long, and I won’t be able to take a train like I could when I worked in Seattle. Getting into a carpool would be ideal – even reducing number of times I drive by 2 days a week would be awesome.

Last night, I told the girls I wouldn’t see them this morning. It didn’t register right away, that this is the day that I’m going to be at work. But then Panda hugged my neck hard from her bunk bed and said ‘have fun at work, Papa!’

I’m taking the hug with me.

It’s off to work I go…

Tomorrow the World Will be Ready

Panda (the 5-year-old) has been taking to getting herself dressed in the morning before school, and she breezed into our bedroom this morning in an outfit that prompted a ‘Chic!’ from BW.

[Note: ‘chic’ in German is pronounced ‘shick’ (like Shick-Shadle Hospital – only 10 days, plus a couple of weekend follow-ups to get that nasty monkey off your back), and is used to describe an outfit that looks flattering or cool on a person. They use this term more often than we use it, and it applies to children as well as adults.]

Panda stood next to our bed, looking at BW’s bedside lamp through das Kronjuwel of her outfit: sunglasses. She then conducted an informal application of the Scientific Method:

Panda: Hey, the light doesn’t look right.
BW: Really? Why is that?
Panda: Hmmm. It looks right when I take off the glasses.
BW: Uh huh. What if you put them back on?
Panda: It looks wrong again!
Me: So what do the sunglasses do?
Panda: Make me look cool!

At the bus stop, I waited until the bus was lumbering down the street before quickly cleaning breakfast off her face, and snagging the shades in the process.

Panda: Hey, I was going to wear those to school!
Me: Sorry kiddo, the world isn’t ready for that much cool!

My beautiful wife

Hi Shweety!

I was going to write an introduction for you on my blog, but I decided to just write you a letter instead. It seems more personal, somehow. How are you? I hope everything is going well for you. On your side of the desk in our office.

I’m going to refer to you as ‘BW’ in my blog, short for ‘Beautiful Wife’. Is that OK? It’s how I feel about you, and truthfully, I’ve already referred to you that way. Blindingly beautiful. Although it might be fun to talk about how your name is Julia and I’ve always pronounced it with a ‘J’, but really the correct pronunciation is the German ‘y’ sound (’yoo-lee-ya’).

I have to admit I’m a little nervous. Not about writing you a letter, I’m fine with that. Not even about other people reading it, that’s OK too. But about YOU reading it. I don’t think I’ve ever written you a real letter before. That seems wrong. In the category of I Didn’t Really Propose To You Correctly, or We Never Went On a Real Date Until After the Kids Were Born. I don’t know why I missed the really important, personal milestones. I blame the liquor.

First things first: I love you. I know that’s something that we say all the time, and the meaning is a little obscured with all the children, pets, imaginary people, and everyday stress, but it’s so true for me. If I stop and sit still, and really think about what you mean to me, it’s the first thing that pops into my head, the first thing I want to say to you, the first thing I DO say whenever you ask me what I’m thinking and I don’t have a quick answer. I love you. I am still IN LOVE with you. Five and a half years have gone by in a heartbeat.

I’ll always be sorry I made you cry. Ever.

Our connection is real. Sometimes, it’s like a live wire, strident, playful and impossible to ignore. I love it when we finish each others’ sentences from another room. Or when you know what my face looks like even when my back is to you. Sometimes it’s in the background. Muted, but alive. Like now, when you’re in bed reading a book, and I’m still in the office hacking away. Or later, when I come to bed when you’re already asleep, and you let me spoon you even though I’m gonna be freezing cold.

You have changed my perception of life. I used to hate “chick movies”, but now I totally get them. You laugh at me when I cry like a little girl in the theater. And when I want to talk to you about the intricate plot twists of a chick book romance novel I just read. And when I realize that, in some new way, you’ve healed my soul again.

I love how organized you are. How you know where everything is in the house without looking for it.

I love how good a mother you are to our kids. To your step-kids.

Mostly, though, I just love you. Through and through. I always will.