I had a high school teacher who drove around with a bumper sticker on her car that said simply, “Remember the Vietnam Veteran”.  It is perhaps because of her, my fascination with all generations that predate me, or simply an abiding sense of empathy that has compelled me to keep veterans in my own heart.  My oldest brother Fred is a veteran of our current war, and although he and I have never been on the same page with regards to the politics surrounding this war, I am fiercely proud of him and am able to easily compartmentalize the folks that do the bidding versus those that execute the orders.  With that in mind, I thought I would ask you new and old friends, to take a moment of your day to send a card to a recovering soldier.  Imagine what joy a few strokes of your pen and a 42 cent stamp could bring to a man or woman waiting to hear a word of encouragement.  Simplicity at its finest, and perhaps most powerful.

UPDATED: Following 9/11, we can no longer send generic letters to “A Recovering Soldier” (thanks for the heads up, Morgan!) so I called Walter Reed this morning and was told that we CAN send cards to the following address, just put the card(s) inside of another envelope and don’t write anything on the enclosed envelope(s).  They also ask that you don’t send any cards with glitter on them as the glitter can get into bandages etc, and of course keep them upbeat!

The American Red Cross
c/o Walter Reed Army Medical Center
6900 Georgia Avenue, NW: Building 2, Room 3E05
Washington , D.C. 20307-5001

Our local NPR station, WMRA, ran a little segment yesterday asking people to send in crocus sightings.  This gave me a literal shiver, thinking about how thrilled I am at just even seeing the smallest spec of blooming color on our otherwise snow and mud laden landscape.  The pictures above are borrowed from Creative Commons; I hunted around our yard this morning for some of those handsome little blooms and sadly came up empty handed.  The day lilies are starting to press their shoots up, and I have seem some delicate crocus stalks tentatively easing into this soggy winter weather, but no blooms…yet.  You know how you’re not supposed to go to the grocery hungry?  I think if I even glanced at a nursery right now we’d be paying the debt down for many winters to come.  Sweet lady Spring, where art thou?

I like the idea of hunting for flowers, I’ll make sure to post when the first blooms show up!

For a little fun, you can vote for my blog just by clicking here:

Asher had his first “solid” meal this morning!  (Please note the excellent bowl that he ate out of…this is one of a set that my stepmom Ruth brought back from Japan for us.)  To say that Asher was an enthusiastic first time eater is a bit of understatement.  He was seriously jazzed with the whole setup, particularly the feel of the spoon in his hands and on his gums, but really start to finish he was way into eating.  Per the New Parents Handbook that exists in my mind, we have video of the big show, but here are a some pictures of our big guy conquering this whole new world of utensils and textures for now.  Bon Apetit!

What a look of focus!

gimme gimme gimme!

Got any more?

]]> http://ameliawalton.com/2010/03/01/it-begins/feed/ 8 Amelia IMG_1318 IMG_1273 IMG_1286 IMG_1288 IMG_1312 http://ameliawalton.com/2010/02/25/pictures-into-words/ http://ameliawalton.com/2010/02/25/pictures-into-words/#comments Thu, 25 Feb 2010 14:41:07 +0000 Amelia http://ameliawalton.com/?p=909 ]]> I’ve been hunting around for good writing prompts lately which has prompted me to look at a lot of photographs around the web and in our library. I’m loosely framing something together relating to ‘remains’…as in, what remains, lingering, physical remains, legacies…it’s all kind of floating around in my mind. In thinking about what remains in my life, I am predictably drawn to thinking about the life of this little child that we have created, the eventual man that he will become, and the very real reality that one day Drew and I will be memories and photographs for him. To me this is not a sad thought, but something absurdly sweet; I look at Asher every day and am awed by the notion that where there was nothing, now there is something. He remains. Parents obsessively taking pictures of their children strikes me not only as a measure of pride, but also a way of proving to ourselves that our children are really here with us. We aren’t dreaming, and all these daily microscopic changes are going to fly by before we are even able to grasp the truth of having become parents. In our wake we leave not only the remains of a life (hopefully) well lived, but a person too. I am so drawn to that story.

We are back from a really excellent trip to our southern home! The picture above was snapped on the plane as we were being bathed in the gorgeous red sky sunset light that welcomed us back to Virginia yesterday evening, and it sums up nicely the peace that we felt as we touched down. Tonight my mind is rife with all of the smiles and big laughs, and importantly, the gentle though strong feeling of bringing Asher home to the rest of his family for the first time. I don’t claim to bring any new insights to this parenting gig, so please forgive me for continuing to echo what so many others have said, but there is nothing quite like seeing the people that once held you as a child snuggling on your own baby. This unexpected and powerful sensation is one that continues to grip Drew and me as we watch Asher with our families, and it’s that feeling that I’m holding on to now. There is a lot to say about the trip (and even more pictures!) but for tonight, I’m just going to bask in the glow of a full heart and quiet house.

Oh, and how was the plane ride, you ask? Well that is a bit of a story that involves canceled flights, snow on the ground in 49 of the 50 states, a rented minivan, and a kid that nailed it. In a nutshell, he did great! More to follow…

This is a picture of Drew blissfully sleeping away the hours that are needed to fly to Baton Rouge.  I took this picture last year, unaware that there was a baby just beginning to take hold in my belly.  Tomorrow we are making this same flight again, only this time instead of boarding the plane with neck pillows and engrossing books, we are arming ourselves with preferred rattles, teething rings, gas drops, and to be perfectly candid, a shirt that will provide lightening fast access to the best comfort ‘weapon’ that I’ve got in my arsenal.  (Don’t tell the ladies in my local LeLeche League that I just referred to nursing as warfare!)  Oh, and crossed fingers.  We are definitely crossing our fingers.

I have always had a fair amount of patience with crying babies on airplanes.  They’re little, they’re flying, and to be perfectly honest, there are a whole lot of adults that would like to be screaming as an airplane takes off and lands, so I think it’s easy to understand the impulse.  I am considerably less patient with the kids that are old enough to know how to tie their shoes, but don’t seem to know that what they’re kicking is the backside of the person sitting in front of them, but we’ve got a couple of more years before crossing that bridge with Asher.  I am hoping that we will be on a plane mostly full of understanding souls, should Asher decide that a bus is his preferred mode of travel.  Well no, what I’m hoping is that he’s cooler than the other side of the pillow tomorrow, and that we’ll land in Baton Rouge wondering what we were so worried about.  And, regardless of how the flight may go, any thoughts about it will quickly be forgotten as we see all of the people that we love so well in Louisiana!

We’re so excited to be getting to bring Asher to Baton Rouge for the first time in the midst of all of the excitement surrounding the Saint’s victory, and Mardi Gras and cannot wait to see everyone.  Although Drew hasn’t lived in Baton Rouge for many years, he carries the prevading Louisiana sense of laissez le bon temps rouler into our life daily, and will always be a bayou boy at heart.  We can’t wait to share this wonderful part of our life with Asher!

Now, back to crossing those fingers…

Click on this picture to see pictures of Rugby ave on ice:

Snow Weekend 210

We dug out from another snow storm yesterday, although this time it was only around 10 inches which, compared to the gigundo storm that we got before Christmas, seems completely manageable. We took Asher outside for his first romp in the snow. And by romp, I mean sit. And by sit, really I mean prop, but he definitely seemed to enjoy himself.  Take a look:

And here’s the latest from the embarrassing photo vault:

(Drew really enjoys picking out outfits for Asher, and I really enjoy documenting the results.)

That’s all for today, the dust bunnies are calling, so I must get to it.  Lots of love from the nest!