Where's Mike?

Mike has been in Okinawa for 9 days! That's the longest he's ever been away on business. I know I don't have to much room to gripe seeing as that many of our readers are Navy spouses and can handle 9 days like it was nothin'. However, to me it is a long time. He's returning on Saturday. I don't mind it too much. In fact, the first couple of days were pretty fun. I could use the computer for as long as I wanted, be a total slob, and watch whatever show I wanted on AFN. This also explains why I am dominating the blog space. We decided when we first got here that it would be much more fun to leave both of our blog entries on the same space. We thought it would be interesting to get 2 different points of view on certain subjects and also to document things that the other person might not even think about. Since Mike is returning so soon, this entry may be totally missed in between the shuffle. I'm sure that he'll probably have lots of pictures and experiences to post. However, for now I get to bore you with some of the everyday things in Japan.

I have to rave about my most recent find at the Japanese grocer. When I left San Diego, I was discouraged. I had been spoiled. I was able to walk to my local Whole Foods or Trader Joe's Market and pick up incredibly yummy local plain yogurt. After reading French Women Don't get Fat, I aquired a taste for plain yogurt. My favorite brand was Pavel's. Very much a type of Russian or Turkish yogurt. No high fructose corn syrup, pectin, gelatin or gums allowed!! I'd just add some berries and honey and viola! You could actually call me a yogurt snob to some degree. It was great to have on hand if I needed a quick sauce for beef too. For months in Japan I did without my pure unadulterated yogurt, instead relying on the overly sweetened stuff at the commissary. I almost decided to buy myself a yogurt maker, until I discovered that the Japanese standards for fresh and pure foods extended into their yogurt products and for about 157 yen at Seiyu, I could get a 500 gram tub of Mieji yogurt! Ever since then, my summer breakfasts are filled with pure bliss.

Much of the produce and dairy products in America are no match for their Japanese counterparts. The standards for freshness are much higher here and the typical Japanese consumer is willing to pay more for a higher quality or fresher product. Even if they get less of it... a cardinal sin in America! After all, even at 7-11 here, they check every hour for freshness with their deli products (you read right, every hour). Organic is also starting to really take off.

Dairy products have just recently "caught on" here in the land of the rising sun. Meiji is a huge company that makes many, many products and has also formed alliances with Coca-Cola. Meiji decided to do a joint venture with a French company and, using Hokaido milk, created this mild tasting Bulgarian style yogurt. They make their yogurt with LG21 which is a lactic acid bacteria culture that has been proven in studies to help reduce risks of gastric and duodenal ulcers. Check out this editorial on it: http://www.crisscross.com/jp/feature/987 This is a huge selling point in Japan because of the high percentage of stomach problems. Some believe that the cause of this is because of the high salt content in much of Japanese cuisine and because of all the pickled vegetables that are consumed. Above all, I don't want to demean the traditional Japanese style of eating. They are second in the world for longevity. The Japanese also have one of the lowest obesity rates among 1st world nations. The #1 spot is reserved for their neighbors, the Okinawans (in regards to longevity), who of course are officially (now) part of Japan, but have a very different culture. In fact, the Okinawa Islands weren't really considered "part of Japan" until 1609 (fairly late in Asian history) when the Japanese Satsuma Clan invaded Okinawa, which was then known as the Ryukyu Kingdom. Okinawa became a Prefecture (similar to a state) of Japan in 1879. Then after World War II, the islands were under U.S. control until they were reverted to Japan in 1972.

OK, enough of the history lesson. Needless to say, I try to live by healthy eating and lifestyle habits but I can't resist going to Mickey D's, popping up some "extra butter" flavor microwave popcorn, or chuggin' a Chu-Hi. If you're here, pick up some Mieji yogurt on your way home tonight! It's a tasty, healthy breakfast (add some strawberry jam or honey and fruit). Thank goodness Mike doesn't like yogurt, more for me!

Also fellow cooks, keep my recipe blog in mind when you're looking for something yummy to whip up. I just recently added a recipe for avocado salad.

Rebel without a Cause

This is definitely not what I wanted to see in my rear view mirror the other day. Yes, you guessed it. To top off my crummy week, I had my first run-in with the Japanese Police. Totally my fault. Oh how my mother (who works at Department of Motor Vehicles back home) will beam with pride when she reads this story.

As I stated above, last week started out pretty crummy. It wasn't really an official week, but rather an equivalent of 7 days that started on Friday at Chiba Mother Farm when I lost Josh, only to find him joyfully playing at the top of a hill in the farm sprinklers. Squealing with delight, he asked if we could get some ice cream. After I ran up the hill after him in the ruthless heat, I hugged him and of course told him he could have whatever he wanted. I suppose it came with the guilt of losing him and relief of finding him.

The next day, I smash the top of my foot under the leg of our computer chair, crunching the nerves right above my toes and leaving a heart shaped bruise right where my sandals rub against. As if anything else could go wrong...... and, it did.

For several days, I thought that I got away scott-free, forgetting the golden rule about how all bad things happen in life..... they happen in sets of three. I'm going to start this Japanese Police story by making shamelessly lame excuses for myself. It was raining that day. The rainy season it seems has shown up late this year. Disappointing for the public pool across the street, however, very nice for the general public seeing that it cools down what would be the extremely hot months of summer. Anyway, I was driving to base slowly tailing a delivery truck. I couldn't see past him, and trailed him way too long in frustration before thinking to pass him. I finally decided to pass him when we were about to head through a yellow light. It changed to red and I drove right through it. Not an unusual occurrence in this country. Unlike in America, there is something like a 5-10 second delay before the light turns green for oncoming traffic. This in turn leads many drivers to jump red lights (meaning go before the light turns green) and just run right through the ones that just turn red (like I did). Also, the yellow lights are extremely short causing many gaijin to slam on the brakes when a yellow light flashes. So I thought, "this time, when in Rome.... right?" Wrong. No sooner had I driven through the light (relieved that I finally passed the truck) that I heard the sirens and saw the lights. 'Oh gosh, where in the heck to I pull over?', I thought. I was almost to base. I stopped at the next red light with my hazards on. The police officer jumped out of his car and in the best English he could muster said, "Please pull left". I assumed after I made the right turn that I should pull over on the non-busy highway. After pulling over, I parked and left my hazards on. I handed the police officer my Mommy "business" card with my name in katikana and a little slip of paper with my address on it in kanji, which he very much appreciated. He also asked me for my ID and drivers license. He in turn handed me a piece of paper in English with a circled reason as to why he was pulling me over. He was very efficient and considerate; thanking me for providing everything and bowing. Josh, of course, was shrieking in the back, handing me his bowl of carrots, demanding that I take it because he was all done...... I had to tell him, "Wait. Mommy is getting a ticket and not the fun kind like on the train." The only stickler of it all was that I couldn't try to talk or cry my way out of it.

The fine ended up being 9000 yen (about $90.00). I was just praying that no one that I know drove by. After all was done and the police officer requested that I please go ahead (he also double checked to make sure he gave me my military ID card back), I had to smile at the whole experience. Even though I wasn't proud of myself, I couldn't help but think.... wow, how many gaijin can say they got a traffic ticket in Japan? Once I got on base, I stopped by Mike's work (also where SushiJeff works) to do the walk of shame. Mike went to the post office the next day to pay the fine and all was back to normal in the world. Jeff explained that certain times during the year, the police frequent places right outside of base to catch some "Y" plates (foreign driver plates). My lesson was learned..... don't run red lights near base during the summer. Just kiddin', Mom!

What a Weekend

So many little things have been happening since Mike's Big Mt. Fuji climb. I suppose as the weekend approached, more opportunities came into focus. On Friday, I was invited to go to Mother Farm Amusement Park in Chiba. A fellow mother, Janelle, thought of the brilliant idea of chartering a bus to take us all. Chiba is about a 2 hour bus ride depending on traffic. Unfortunately there are no trains that stop right near the farm, which could leave driving as a good option, except that we are all mothers of babies and toddlers. Caravanning would just be impractical. (Picture commuting, then having to pull over to feed your crying baby for 30 minutes..... OK, now multiply that by 10. In addition, we wouldn't know where the heck we were going for sure. We would never get there.) The bus was great. We could throw our strollers beneath and there was a DVD player for movies. We'd be able to attend to our kidlets needs without risking a potential accident on the Yoko-Yoko.

Once we were at Mother Farm they were ready for us. A very nice employee was sent out to give us maps in English. The weather was very hot and humid, but we slathered the babes (and us) up in sunblock and headed out to milk some cows. Josh was a little intimidated by the whole process. I, on the other hand, was all for it. I had never milked a cow before, so this was some good experience. It surprised me just how firmly you had to actually squeeze to get some milk out. Along with cows, they had horses, bunnies, geese, dogs, sheep, goats, and the very popular Japanese stray cats! Every restaurant served fresh homemade pudding, yogurt, ice cream & milk. Also, at the gift shops they served cheesecake, candy, chocolate & truffles.

This weekend started off pretty tame until I had the very bright idea (can you sense the sarcasm?) to drive up to the five story 100 yen shop in Tokyo. After all, we hadn't gotten much drive time in. We've taken the trains practically everywhere. The most that we've driven is around our little penisula near Yokosuka and one time up to the Negishi Base Housing. The expressways were fine until we hit a little traffic. Nothing too crazy though - pretty similar to L.A. traffic. Once we got off the expressway is when the real fun started. Mike was hit with a rash of road rage and I hit the hazards and switched seats so I could drive for a while. We ended up circling the place several times looking for the 100 yen store until we finally decided to just park and walk to try and find it. After all, we knew that it was close to the Tokyu Hands store. So, we parked in the parking garage closest to Tokyu Hands. After looking a while for Daiso (the 100 yen store), Mike decided that it was probably written out in Japanese, and sure enough he found it in Katakana. Sheesh, the directions from base stunk..... could they have at least told us it would be written in Katakana?! All of the other landmarks they had listed on the directions in English letters had been in English, so we thought for sure that the Daiso would be in English also. This is when Mike's knowledge for Katakana came in handy. After much frustration we found it. We had a great time. I found some discontinued Sanrio characters that my sister loves, so I got some for her. We also found some practical things like rain ponchos and a sunshade for the car. There were lots of gaijin there looking for a bargain. After 5 stories of shopping for 100 yen items, we were exhausted and hungry. We ended up eating at a Ramen shop and heading home. Needless to say I cracked open a Chu-Hi and Mike cracked open a Kirin when we got home!

Sunday started out pretty mellow, too. In the evening it livened up though. One of our fellow neighbors, Patrice, told us about a summer Bon Odori (street festival) going on in our neighborhood at a local park. Once Josh got up from his nap, we decided to walk on down to the celebration. There were vendors selling all kinds of the Japanese staples, Octopus balls, Yakitori, chocolate covered bananas & Hawaiian ice. Because it was the second day of the festivities, things were a little less crowded which made it great for the kids to run around. All the boys had inflatable swords and were smacking the ground and each other. About a few minutes after our arrival, they started doing a dance that I think is called the Obon Dance? It reminded me a bit of a Japanese Kanga line, with a drummer drumming a beat and everyone encircling the stage. The drummer and dancers continued doing this repetitive dance for a long time. Anyone was allowed to jump in and dance at any time. Most of the dancers were people we recognized from the neighborhood. After the obon dance, some young hula girls did several dances as well and were followed up by older hula dancing women. After chit chatting with some of our neighbors and watching the dances, it was time to go home. After attending this neighborhood festival, it really helped us feel more at home here in the Land of the Rising Sun.

The pictures in this post are all from the Bon Odori Festival, except the top one of Nicki and Josh milking the cow, which was from Mother Farm (thanks, Gretchen!). The rest of them are posted in the Gallery, dated 07/17/2006. Mike apologizes for his self-described "limited abilities to shoot pictures at night", because some of the pictures contain motion blur and grainyness.

Up Close and Personal with Fuji-san

July 8, 2006, did not start out like any normal Saturday. My alarm woke me up, as scheduled, at 12:00AM (that's not a typo) and the first logical thought to enter my sleepy mind was, "what on Earth am I doing waking up at midnight for this?".

You see, I signed up several weeks ago to attempt the Navy MWR sponsored Mt. Fuji One-day Hike. For me, that meant reporting to the Outdoor Recreation Center on base at 01:45AM to catch a bus due west towards Japan's tallest mountain... err... volcano. The official climbing season at Mt. Fuji is limited to July and August, mostly due to the unpredictable weather that lurks around the mountain throughout the rest of the year. I've heard that August is the busiest month for climbers, so I opted to climb as early as possible to avoid getting caught up in large crowds.

The MWR Bus left Yokosuka around 02:00AM and made it to the 5th Station along the trail at about 05:00AM. I should note that Mt. Fuji is divided into 10 stations, which are basically landmarks letting you know your general location along the path up and down the mountain. Although the stations aren't actually evenly spaced, it's fair to say that the 5th Station is about halfway up Fuji-san. The elevation at the 5th Station trailhead is about 7500 feet, or a little under a mile and a half above sea level.

I started hiking around 05:15AM, after choosing a trusty hiking stick, changing into some sweatpants, and lathering on a thick dosage of sunscreen. The hiking stick was included in the price of the tour and makes a nice souvenir, especially since there are huts along the hiking trail where you can stop and have a unique stamp burned onto the stick (like a cattle brand) for a mere 200 yen. Sure, 200 yen doesn't sound like a lot of money, but I ended up stopping at between 15 - 20 of these stamp vendors, so it really added up by the time I was done.

The temperature at the 5th Station was no more than 50 degrees Fahrenheit and I had been told that it would be in the 30's (again in Fahrenheit) at the summit. In the early morning, it seemed that I lucked out. The weather was terrific. The sky above was sunny, the clouds below (yes, below) were scattered. I could see for miles around and had a terrific view of the other mountain peaks around Fuji-san that rose up through the clouds. Also, I had a nice view of one of the five lakes that surround the northern side of Mt. Fuji.

From the 5th Station to around the 7th Station, the trail was a fairly modest to moderate slope, surrounded by trees, shrubs, and grass... greenery of various types. Between the 7th and 8th Stations, all signs of plant life slowly wilted away and was replaced by red to black dirt and lava rocks on a more severe slope. The view wasn't all bad, though, because there were enough huts along the trail to keep the hike interesting. After passing the 8th Station, the huts disappeared and I honestly felt like I had landed on the moon - except I didn't have the advantage of a low-gravity environment to keep me from feeling weighted down. The pace was slow, because oxygen levels were at 60% of sea level conditions and I had to stop frequently enough to catch my breath. People were getting noticibly weary - including me - to the extent where we would sometimes sit down or even lie down to rest for a few minutes before heading on.

While I was resting for a moment somewhere between the 8th and 9th stations, I noticed a group of five Japanese people who were trying to take a group picture. I asked, in Japenglish (that's a few Japanese words in an otherwise English sentence), if they wanted me to take their picture. One of them replied in Enganese (yup, you guessed it: mostly Japanese with a few English words) that they would appreciate it. Then they asked me if I liked something suppai, which was a new word to me in Japanese. Through hand gestures and a little mixed languages, finally I learned that "suppai" means "sour" and that they were offering me some type of sour/vinegared/pickled treat. I can't tell you what it was, but it was derived from some type of dried plant, possibly a seed. It was round, about two centimeters in diameter, and dark blue to black in color. I put it in my mouth and immediately tasted how sour it was, but it was good. I asked if I was supposed to bite it and was told, "yes, bite it". So I did, and it was about as hard as a jawbreaker candy. After a few seconds of trying, I finally cracked into it, at about the same time that one of the other people in the group said, "gomen nasai (I'm sorry), do not bite, but suck and then spit out." Too late... once I had bitten in, it got really sour and bitter. But I kept a straight face long enough to thank them, then gave them a couple American treats that I was carrying, and then I moved along. As soon as I was out of visible range, I tossed the sour treat aside and drank enough water to dilute the taste. Anyway, it was a funny moment on an otherwise rough walk to the top.

The final stretch of trail leading to the summit ended with a torii gate guarded by two minicing statue creatures. I stopped there long enough to ask a passerby to take a picture of me, then I hobbled the final few paces up to the peak of Fuji-san. I reached the top at about 11:45AM, so my total hiking time to the top was roughly 6.5 hours. Not to shabby considering the number of stops I took to rest, eat, hydrate, and collect stamps for the hiking stick.

My first stop at the peak was a shrine, where I stopped to collect another stamp - and converted to Shinto just long enough to pray for some much needed oxygen and rest. Afterwards, I walked over to an adjacent building to collect the gaijin stamp, which got its name because it displayed (in English) "Top of Mt. Fuji - 12,395 feet". Yes, I had just climbed to 12,395 feet, which is about 2.3 miles above sea level.

From there, I had just enough energy to climb a slight incline to a really old and weather-beaten torii gate that overlooked the crater created by Fuji-san's most recent eruption, which was in 1707. The crater was rather large and deep, but I could see pretty much all around it and noticed that a rather large layer of snow remained unmelted throughout the bowl-shaped crater. Although it was really cold at the peak, I figured that the temps were still above freezing, but there must have been enough shade in the crater throughout the day to keep the sun from melting it.

After snapping a few pictures of the summit, I headed back towards the buildings along the peak to grab some lunch. Believe it or not, there's actually a Ramen shop atop Fuji-san, so I stopped there for some miso ramen. On any given day, I would think twice about paying 800 yen for the most generic bowl of ramen I've ever seen. But on Saturday, July 8, 2006, sitting on the wind-torn peak of Mt. Fuji while watching dark clouds move rapidly in overhead, that bowl of ramen was the best meal I've eaten in years.

I consider myself very lucky. I was able to climb to the peak, shoot all the pictures I wanted, and eat lunch all before the clouds caught up to me and encompassed the entire mountain. But as soon as those clouds set in, it got much more windy and much colder. I decided not to stick around because visibility was decreasing exponentially by the minute. Also, I could feel every muscle in my legs and feet starting to tighten up; and wanted to minimize cramping during my trek along the descending trail. So around 1:00PM, I started down the descending trail.

I decided to pack up my camera along the down-trail, mostly because I could barely see more than 10-15 feet in front of me once the clouds set in. Also, I started down by digging my heels in at each step, which helped me slide a good half-step ahead each time I took a step. I made really good time on the way down, stopped twice to chug some water, and once for a restroom break at the only restroom on the decending trail (which ran basically 100 yards or so away and parallel from the ascending trail). I was basically hiking with blinders on, because I was sore enough not to care what was going on around me and was only focused on making it down the mountain alive.

Shortly after passing the 6th Station, I ran into a couple of Americans who were heading up. They noticed my hiking stick and stopped to ask me about the stamps, the hike up, etc. I told them how long it took for me to head up and some of the stories that happened along the way. They asked how long it took me to get down to that point and I told them that I left at 1:00PM, but that I didn't currently know what time it was (my pocket watch was stuffed into my backpack). One of the men looked at his watch and said that it was 2:40PM - so I had made it down rather quickly, since I had been told it could take around 3 hours to get down. I actually made it back to the bus about 10 minutes later. There, I cracked open some baby wipes, cleaned myself off, and changed into some clean clothes and sandals.

By 4:30PM, pretty much everyone had returned to the bus. By pretty much everyone, I mean everyone except a certain 14-year old boy, who decided to separate from his dad and a few friends and hike the trail by himself for some reason. Anyway, we waited at the bus for this kid, who even an hour later didn't show up. One of our MWR tour guides even started back up the mountain to look for him. Eventually, around 6:00PM, the kid walked through the parking lot and onto the bus, as if nothing had happened. His dad gave him the look of death, then took him off the bus to release some demons on the kid. Not sure what was said, but I'm glad that they walked far enough away from the bus so that I didn't have to witness the scolding of a lifetime. In the meantime, the tour guides at the bus got in touch with the one tour guide who had started up the mountain to let him know that everyone was accounted for and that he could head back down again... that poor guide must have been tired.

Anyway, we finally got on the road around dark-thirty, made one pit stop along the way, and made it back to Yokosuka a little after 9:00PM. From there I drove home, jumped into a nice warm ofuro (Japanese bathtub), then went to bed around 11:00PM. I had been awake for 23 straight hours!!!

All in all, I had a great time despite waking up sore on Sunday morning. I would definitely do the hike again, but if I never get the opportunity I won't be disappointed. Fuji-san is worthy of respect, but her beauty is much better appreciated at a distance, as opposed to up close and personal.

Check out the Gallery (dated 07/09/2006) to view the rest of the pictures.

Oh Brother!

Today was a day I decided to be a little "hard core" at the gym. Mike and I have started this great routine of "Daddy Lunch Day", where Mike will watch Josh during his lunch hour while I pump some iron at the gym. Today during my jog and weight lifting, I decided to listen to some Rise Against. Yes, Rise Against as in punk music. I believe I'm just about the only Mommy out there listening to some kick butt punk. It's my dirty little secret and the only thing that brings out my demons and gets me running. Along with my music choice, I decided to bring out my צה"ל Tsahal or Israeli Defense Force T-Shirt. It has those tough green and yellow army colors and it's controversial. Hey, I was in the mood!

In 1995, I was....gulp, 15. I'm Jewish and had just been confirmed in my religion. Not only was it a chance to celebrate, but it was my chance (just like every other Jewish 15 year old in the nation) to take a 5 1/2 week trip to Israel. I have so many memories from that great time in my life. I got to see so many things: Sunrise at Mt. Masada, the Wailing Wall, the Dead Sea Scrolls, swimming in the Red Sea, swimming in the Dead Sea, staying up late on some desert kibbutz feasting on watermelon and gazing at the stars, riding camels with Bedowins (a nomadic desert people that span all over the African and Arab world), accidentally walking out onto the army's shooting range only to be chased down by a humvee loaded full of soldiers and driven off to safety.....ah yes, so many memories (gosh we were stupid kids).

Many of our readers are parents, and now looking back as a parent myself, I couldn't even tell you how I could let my son travel to such a volatile area. Back then, I admit it was a little safer; and I mean "a little" as in miniscule amounts. While we were there, there were no bombings (Only the one at the Atlanta Olympics back home!) and though there were armed soldiers hanging out in town, I had never felt safer. It was the first time that I had been that far away from home and it was tough. After all I was 15 and was living in a bubble where I was a big fish in a little pond. I had known most of my friends since kindergarten. In Israel, I was placed in a situation where I only new several other kids and the rest of them were all from other places: New York, Los Angeles, Texas, Kentucky, etc. Not only that, but we were thousands of miles from home. I was no longer a big fish in a little pond. The only thing that we really had in common was our age and our religion. It was intimidating and during the first week there, I cried and cried. After all, how could my parents do this to me! I mean, I had a life (and boyfriend) back home. As the weeks went by, I met some great poeple and had some once-in-a-lifetime experiences. It changed me for the better and I came home a more mature 15 year old. I was much more self-confident & self-reliant.

The past 11 years have gone by quickly and since then, I ran off to San Diego when I was 19 and just recently ran off to Japan! I know that I have become a different woman than I would have if I had never left home. I'm doing things now that in my wildest dreams I wouldn't have imagined for myself. There comes a sense of self-accomplishment with that.

The reason I'm going on and on about this is because my favorite 16 year old brother is hopping on that horse and taking the first steps towards applying for college (reluctantly I might add). In fact, my mother just forcefully enrolled him into a Programming and Robotics Summer Camp at Stanford. He hasn't traveled much. His confirmation trip to Israel was cancelled because it was believed to be too dangerous that year. He's had some minor medical setbacks in his young life too. He's incredibly intelligent & very into computers & engineering. When he was 3 years old I can remember him sitting in his room amongst a pile of wooden train tracks for hours building winding passageways for his favorite trains. He has so much potential and I'm afraid he'll never be able to give it a test drive because of that same feeling of intimitation and fear that I had at his age. He has absolutely no will to want to leave home. So I say to you, oh Brother of mine, go for the gold. Although it doesn't seem like it, you are on the road to something great. You'll hit some obstacles along the way, but it will make you stronger. You just have to go outside the box and dream big.



These pictures are lame, I know. They were from a 15 year old girl! From top to bottom: (1) Me licking Kool-aid mix from the package because we had to flavor the desalted drinking water from the ocean. (2) Me getting on a grumpy camel. (3) Me hanging off of the cannon on a retired tank. (4) Sunrise on top of Mt. Masada.

The Photographer

Ah, the photographer is now on the receiving end of the camera! I thought that our readers might enjoy this pic of Mike at a Birthday party that we attended last weekend. (at which we took over 400 pictures that we are now weeding through) I absolutely love this picture that I took of Mike. This face embodies everything I fell in love with. I can't tell you how many times he flashed those pearly whites nervously at me during our first (blind) date. Funny how I don't remember what we talked about but I distinctly remember that smile. OK, enough cheese and fluff. I don't want to bore you all with sentimental memories. I just thought that I would open a small window for a bit.

The weather has been heating up and perhaps that's why we've been neglecting our blog. We've been out trying to enjoy the "mild" part of summer before entering the "dog days" of summer. There are many things that we want to take the time to discover but for right now, we've just been sitting back and enjoying the not-so-rainy Rainy Season. The pool has opened up on base and I've been taking Josh there during the week so that he can become more comfortable in the water. He'll be 3 in August, so really this is my last summer to have him all to myself. In a few (6+) months, I'll start to look into pre-schools, but until then he's all mine! How fast they grow and how quickly they lose that innocence. I think my favorite thing about being a Mom right now is having the magical power to cure all pinched fingers, scraped knees, cuts and bruises with a kiss.