BIG

Big. Day. Today.

I'm just sayin'.

Love you, Baby. You are a rock star.

The Lazy, Hazy Days

It's downright shameful how long it's taken me to post. I mean, I miss my BFF and all, but really? How long you all have to read about it? My apologies, friends. I have but one excuse...

SUMMER.

It's upon us in full force. Two short weeks since the end of school, and we're up to our eyeballs in swim team practice, nature camp, basketball camp, sleep-away camp, library reading incentives, pool visits, barbeques, softball and baseball tournaments, summer concerts, dinners with friends, and general fun and mayhem.

I love summer. Truly, I do. There is nothing better than a sun-kissed kid nose, a brand new smattering of poolside freckles, and some icy drinks dripping with condensation. Ahhhh.

We're in the midst of planning and preparing for our trip to Emerald Isle with the Fabers and B. The wisecracking Brian Beat Down has already begun and is setting the irreverent and side-splitting tone for the entire trip. It's a miracle that he even agrees to speak to us at times. But damn, that man can COOK!

We dropped Gus and George off at Spring Hill on Sunday. It's Gus's first full week of sleep-away camp and Geo's first sleep-away camp EVER. They're bunking with Carson and Ethan, so it should feel a bit like home -- without the air conditioning and unlimited supply of clean underwear. (I'm sure they're much more inclined to miss the air conditioning.) George indicated that he was a little nervous about camp and I asked him if he was afraid he'd miss me.

"NO!" he replied. "I'm just nervous. It's not about missing you AT ALL."

When I was packing his bag, he made one request: "Only boxers, please, and NO baby pajamas."

The camp is ultra-cool, and I know they'll both have a great time. They were transported to their cabins (Gus's cabin resembles a treehouse on stilts and George's cabin is a teepee!) via fire engine. I mean, if you start camp by riding on a fire engine, how bad could it possibly be? I encouraged each of them to step outside their comfort zones and try things they normally wouldn't consider. From zip lines to giant lake slides, they have plenty of opportunities for adventure. And if they don't melt in the 100 degree heat or get blown away in the Indiana monsoons that are appearing every day on the radar, I'll consider that a whopping success.

Sam has already completed a Teen Leadership seminar this summer that has him looking at the world in new and different ways. After his class, he posted on his Facebook status, "Just finished a long and tiring leadership weekend." I remarked that perhaps he should re-think the tone of his post because it seemed a bit negative. His reply? "Mom, what I posted on Facebook is neutral. You're the one assigning a negative value to it."

I think he gets it.

Sweet Mary Claire is swimming her brains out and getting ready to venture into the world of orthodontia. Big summer for her.

I'm still in VIA, working on my next novel (tentatively titled, "See How They Run"), training for the Indianapolis Monumental Marathon, have shed 50 pounds (and counting), am surrounding myself with some incredibly talented, loving, and powerful friends, and am loving and living life to the fullest!

But the biggest changes are in store for my sexy lovah. And those details, my friends, will all be coming your way soon enough.

Until then, don't forget your sunscreen... and your clean underwear!

Letter to a Friend

My dearest, beautiful, sexy, sassy, smart, exasperating, loving, irreverent, dirty, compassionate, stylish, best friend, Stacy,

Tomorrow, you begin.

After 6 months of sometimes frantic, often paralyzing, always exciting preparation, you leave for the adventure of a lifetime.

Africa.

Since the day Flowered Bag met Gear Head and we fell madly, irrevocably, unapologetically, irreversibly in love, you've wanted to journey to the Dark Continent. From your home decor to your shoe selection, Africa has been a part of you for as long as I can remember. Zebras, and giraffes, and monkeys -- oh, my!

Life has taken us so many places together. Now, as you journey to the far ends of the earth, my heart is with you -- locked safely in your own. As you brave the Nairobi airport, I will be there beside you, standing ready with my sweet Karate moves and distracting Jazz Hands. When you teach wound care to those who never knew it was an option, I will support you with my imagined medical prowess. After all, you know I was almost a doctor. If only that damn Organic Chemistry requirement hadn't reared its ugly head...

Physically, however, I will be here, standing guard. What your three precious children might need, I promise I will provide. They are, after all, like my own. Always have been and always will be. Fear not, my friend. They are wrapped safely in my arms and in the arms of those others who love them most. And nothing compares to the soft, safe arms of doting grandparents and forever friends.

When you return, I will be itching to sit around the fire pit and listen to all your stories. Perhaps we'll have Dave Matthews and Lady Gaga in the background. Maybe it will be Michael Jackson. ("Hey, Pretty Baby, with the high heels on...") But I will listen with rapt attention and red wine and will bear witness to the transformation in your life. Because, indeed, there will be transformation. You will come back the same... yet vastly different. And your ever-expansive heart will be bursting with tales of adventure, of healing, of love, of a world bigger than either of us might ever have imagined.

Please bring your giggling, giddy husband back safely with lots of trophies and tales. (Tales, of course, not punctuated with contractions.) My husband will miss his best friend, will also wait with Scotch and cigarette in hand to hear about his pinpoint shotgun accuracy and stories of the Bush. (Not that bush -- those stories will come after the 2nd Scotch, of course.) Together, they will scratch themselves and slosh their drinks and laugh too loudly and stoke the fire into a raging inferno. And, as always, all will be well.

One month away from you is a lifetime. I will miss you fiercely, will think about you constantly, will pray for you daily, will undoubtedly shed a few tears when I realize how very far away you are. But still, you will be beside me -- just as you always are, as you always have been, as you forever will be.

Before you go, I must wish you Godspeed. (You knew it was inevitable.) We can both laugh at my irreverent and convenient semantic choice, but ultimately, we both know that our one shared God will be holding you tightly with both hands as your plane takes off for worlds unknown, as your souls and hearts are forever altered, changed, expanded.

You will be the finest of teachers. You always have been. Your beauty, grace, wisdom, wit, and love will bring you an entourage of devoted followers in an unknown land.

Your adventure awaits.

I love you with my entire heart and soul, my friend. When you find the best hill upon which Ethan and George can raise monkeys as their babies, call me. After all, those monkey-grandbabies will be ours to love and cherish someday.

Holding you gently in my heart until your safe and triumphant return --

XOXO,
Katrina