Happy Birthday Morgan!

This is Morgan. Today is her 22nd birthday. She is beautiful, funny and smart. She loves Griffin and she loves cats.


She has dated Griffin for 5 years, she is always there for him, whether it's crying with me at the airport when he left for his year deployment or playing ridiculous video games with large weapons.


This is her cat Leroy. He likes to chase and fetch Mardi Gras beads, Tim has deemed him "the smartest cat alive."


We are blessed to have you in our lives! Happy Birthday. (This is my favorite picture of you and Griffin...Basic Training South Carolina 12-17-07)

Wagon Wheel

Erica clued me into a very funny blog that pays homage to elementary school pictures that used laser beams in the background. "We Have Lasers!"



This had me reminiscing about Erica and Griffin's horrible backgrounds. One in particular stands out. Griffin brought home his packet of backgrounds to choose from, I think there was 3. I don't remember the other 2, but there was one horrendous background of a desert scene and a huge ugly wagon wheel in the foreground.

I brought Griffin over to the table on picture day and repeated over and over, very slowly to him "WHATEVER YOU DO DON'T PICK THE WAGON WHEEL ONE." I explained to him that I wanted the nice plain background. He assured me he would as he skipped off to school in his multi-colored gecko t-shirt.

A couple of weeks later he brought his pictures home from school and proudly showed me this:

Fatt

Griffin and I were bored last night, so naturally I suggested we measure Fatness. He measures in at 30" from ear tip to back paw.

The Griff

He is finally home after spending a long year in Germany as an Army Medic.

His sister patiently waiting for a glimpse.


His girlfriend not so patiently waiting.


We missed you Griffin.


It's nice to see your dog tags at home again.

Partees and Cats

Abbigail turned 11 a few days ago, isn't she beautiful?


...umm Sween was in fine form, posin' for pics and lookin' for krittens.


I do think Griffin flew the 9 hours and 8000 miles home just to hold Fatness.

My baby is 21 today.

I miss you Griffin.


Here is what I love most about you:

1. You never get upset, cool as a cucumber.

2. You never fail to greet me with a hug or kiss.

3. You can keep 7 books of Harry Potter straight, including who is in what book, and what plot line is in what book.

4. You love Adam Corolla as much as I do.



5. You are kind and generous.

6. You have empathy and would never want to hurt anyone intentionally.



7. I love when you laugh.

8. You love cats.



9. I miss you picking me up and carrying me around.

10. No one can make me laugh harder. (Well maybe Erica).



The house is awfully quiet without you around. I don't like the Army keeping you for a year.

You are growing up so fast, and I know soon you will probably move out, and that is something I don't want to think about. I am so proud of you Griffin, you are such a fine person and a good person. I couldn't be prouder.

Love you.

What I didn't do this weekend.

I didn't go Christmas shopping or clean my house.

I did go to a formal dinner at Luke Air Force Base. It was for all the troops mobilizing from Griffin's unit. He looked handsome in his Class A's. There was a lot of pomp and circumstance, tough girls with tattoos and insults being thrown around. Tim explained to me "welcome to the military."

Griffin leaves for West Point in January, he will be gone a year. Whaaa.





I didn't finish my novel this weekend but I did take plenty of pictures of Fatness.

In this shot Fatness was telling me how happy he was about Obama's cabinet choices




He can't wait to see what Michelle O will be wearing for the Inauguration.




We both agreed that the Obama's will be a breath of fresh air in Washington.

Fat Cats

There is no reason for this post except that I find this card very funny, and the fact that Griffin signed his last name to it, is even funnier.

Never in 20 years

My important after work activities (i.e. taking a nap with Fatness and stuffing my face with baked potato chips) was interrupted with a call from Griffin. "Mom, WHAT-EVER you do don't look in my room." I said "um, what now?" at which point he repeated his foreboding statement. My mind started reeling with macabre thoughts, a dead stripper? Fatness in a torture device that went awry? A week old egg salad sandwich? The transmission from his Honda? I commanded him to stay on the line while I checked his room. I slowly started up the stairs wondering if I was going to find the dead body of his 5th grade teacher. I entered his Axe infused room slowly like SWAT and stopped in my clogs. This is what lay before my eyes:



...and this

...and this


I queried, in a celestial room whisper, "What the? Griffin, you cleaned your room and actually organized stuff?" I was shaking. He gingerly said "Mom open my underwear drawer." With trembling hand, I opened it.




My knees gave out and I sank into a lotus position of worship. I had turned into a pilgrim that found her sacred place. Dizzy with confusion I said "Griff, seriously what are you doing? You never in 20 years have cleaned your room without some sort of death threat from me?" and then he said something that made my mortal and terrestial life complete. "Mom, the messiness was starting to bug me, and this is how the Army has us do it."

I should have handed him over 20 years ago, swaddled with capped umbilical cord, for the Army to raise.

Teacher O Matic

I was going through some old school papers of Griffin's, when I came across a few pages that he drew during his, I suppose, military phase. Some people called these "disturbing," I will let you judge for yourself.



This one was rendered during his "Alien Phase" Notice the human exclaiming "this is so typical I always have to kill the alien." Category: Invasion. This particular picture is one of a series of 5.


This one I saved for last because it is my favorite the "Teacher O Matic." Toxic waste is being pumped into the machine which is churning out the teachers onto a conveyor belt, being hauled by truck to school. I believe Griffin drew this one when he was stuck with an old-maid, nun, humorless, windbag teacher in 5th grade.

You are doing what now?

"I'm joining the Army Reserves." This is the comment I heard from Griff about 2 weeks ago, 2 days ago he signed up. I couldn't fathom my little boy enduring boot camp, I was picturing Full Metal Jacket and starting to hyperventilate. "Mom I will be fine, really, it's just boot camp."

He will be gone for 3 months, then home for Christmas then gone again for 4 months training to be an EMT. In my mother's mind he is still 9, I'm making him sandwiches without the crust and pulling his jammies over his head.

When he comes home at night he finds me, whether I'm asleep or not, because he wants me to know he is home and to give me a tight hug. I'm going to miss that.

He is going to endure long long marches while chanting foul songs in unison, there will be men with bad haircuts yelling in his face making him do push ups. They won't care if he is tired or that he needs his Mommy.

He promised me that his Sgt. said "there is a slim chance you will be deployed." Slim ain't good enough for me, I want nil to none.

He leaves October 10.