Missing my Soldier @ Soldier Field

Lynnie scored some awesome free tickets for the Bears home opener last night! IT WAS SOO FUN! We ran into an old friend from high school and made new friends in our section. Nothing quite like sporting event to bring people together. Not only did the Bears pull off a sweet victory but Vince Vaughe was there! And the rain, only made the whole experience more authentic -- we are NOT fair weather fans:)

After the game I received this email from Kyle:
"Hope you had fun at the game....I'm glad the Bears pulled out a miracle victory at the last minute, I'm sure it made the game more fun and enjoyable for you (gosh it was really hard for me to say that)."

For Kyle to "be glad the Bears won" I know, is no small thing. It goes against everything in his Packer loving self...Wow, he must really love me, Bears fan and all:)

Choosing Unity

During our wedding, our officiant's main theme was that we should "chose unity." His point was that we'd have the opportunity to make several choices every day during our marriage, from how to handle an argument, to where to go for dinner. And with these choices we should strive to make the ones that promoted unity. A nice message we thought.

Since then, during any disagreement in our household, no matter how heated or inane, Kyle would look at me and with a very serious tone and look say, "Kathy, choose unity." And we would just start laughing. It's his default answer when he doesn't want to engage in an argument, when he doesn't want to do something, or when he wants to convince me to do something. He'll say, 'Kathy, I choose unity, do you?" or "fine, go
ahead and turn the Packer game off, I understand if you don't want to choose unity." Although sometimes it makes me want to punch him, I know that he is thinking of our wedding and that the small things can be simply worked out by "choosing unity."

With our wedding anniversary around the corner, we would like to "choose unity" but are separated by our nation's combat operations. However, unity doesn't require proximity. Despite the distance, we still choose unity by staying involved in each other's days and decisions- from the mundane, to the important. Just like Simba's football jerseys. I could have simply put on his Bears jersey but NO!, I "chose unity"!

Simba is a Beaker

Simba is a Beaker: half Bear fan (BEA), half packer fan (KER). Kyle argues that because Simba is a Wisconsin native, Adopted from the Waukesha humane society that he is a packer fan. Clearly, this is not true. Dogs take the NFL loyalty's of their mom, like religion, thus making Simba a Catholic Bears fan in my opinion. This argument was not going to have a clear solution. So it was decided that Simba is a Beaker. Half and half for now and when he is old enough he can choose for himself:) While the Bears and Packers duke it out this Sunday, Kyle will be cheering for his green and gold, while I support my orange and blue and Simba barks his loyalties for both teams!

Kyle's brother, Brad and his wife, Erin will be enjoying the game from Lambeau field. LUCKY!

GO BEARS!

9/11

9/11 occurred when Kyle and I were still in College. My roommate, Stacey, and I were still sleeping when the events began. Our dorm room phone kept ringing but neither of us budged from bed. When the phone rang for a fourth time I finally got up and answered it. The news of the days events were explained to me from the other end of the phone. The events were all still unfolding. Several of our friends all watched in one room as more and more details came to light. We were all scared and unsure of what to do. I remember sitting with Kyle and I asked him, "Not to go too far away today." He replied, "Where would I go? And besides I never want to be too far away from you."

A few years later Kyle worked at the Pentagon, near the area that the airplane struck that day. He organized a personal tour for me with a survivor of the attacks. His story, like many others, was a matter of minutes, a few feet between him surviving and those who were victims. He had no visible scars or injuries remaining from that day, only the kind you could hear in his voice as he described what happened.

In 2006, I met one of the most interesting individuals in my life. We were working together on a set when I learned his horror story of 9/11. He, his wife and two children were on vacation in NY. His daughter had just auditioned at Julliard. On the morning of 9/11, he drove his family to airport to fly home and he stayed behind for business. His family was in the airplane that struck the first twin tower.

9-11-2001 is a day so tragic and truly unforgettable. Today I remember every rescuer who died in honor. I will keep in my thoughts every family that lives in grief over the loss of a loved one. I will remember, the last phone calls, the sad days that followed in our nation, and the many men and women that fight to keep our great country safe.

The Dentist

Kathy Says:
Kyle is not a big dentist fan. This started our dentist dates. We go ever 6 months for our cleanings together. And by going together, I could insure that he actual goes.

Let me be clear in saying that Kyle isn't afraid of the dentist, but has a strong dislike for going. He claims, it's mostly related to the cost he knows he is going to incur. Be it a needed filling or fluoride treatment, even with dental insurance it can get pricey.

Going by myself wasn't a big deal but just another thing that we usually do together that we wouldn't be doing together this year. The other day, Kyle called and told me he WENT TO DENTIST all by himself. WITHOUT his nagging wife dragging him. I was so proud. Who knew? Dental cleanings in Iraq?

Kyle adds two things:
1) I don't mind going to the dentist, and I think dental hygiene is a sound investment. Dental appointments simply weren't enforced or a priority B.K (before Kathy). Just one of the many ways Kathy helps me be a better person.

2) As I was driving to my dental cleaning, in my armored Humvee with my M-4 carbine (that's his gun) I thought, "these are certainly strange times." The cleaning was relaxing, the chair was comfy, there was music, hardly any sand in the clinic, and the place smelled good. I may try and go back again before I leave.

Pity Parties

Pity Parties are different for everyone. And who among us hasn't had one for themselves? My personal pity parties include one common factor-- Ice Cream. If I've had a day, its ice cream for dinner. I blame this vice on my mom 100%.

During my more awkward years, say age 13-17, I would come home from school all bent out of shape on a pretty regular basis, and my mom would take me for ice cream. I would spill my teenage drama over ice cream while my mom listened and gave guidance, or we would just sit in silence while the ice cream worked its magic--transforming me from unpleasant teenager to normal human being again:)

The medicinal effect of ice cream has unfortunately persisted into my adulthood. Even though I call it a vice, if I ever have an unpleasant teenage daughter I'll handle it the same way my mom did, all over ice cream.

With Kyle away from home I justify regular pity parties. Only now, I can't eat ice cream like I once did without the physical repercussion. Don't get me wrong, I can still eat my share of ice cream. So unless Kyle wants to return home to a 500 pound wife, I best find a better outlet for these little parities because I'm on the
fast track to becoming a major whooty...and not in the smokin' Kim Kardashian way either.

Squeak Squeak

Kyle is not cheap. I would not have married a cheap man. He is, however, fiscally responsible. He is constantly looking for the best deal, the most bang for his buck. Previous to his time in the sandbox this had little direct or immediate effect on me. I was proud of my hubby for planning well for our future. Because God knows I lack the fiscally responsible gene.

I am still sending him his financial magazines,so he can keep up with the latest. Which maybe I should stop doing...Because he reads these articles and it results in me doing the fiscally responsible leg work. UGH! Those little annoying time consuming tasks that he once did and now I appreciate that much more. Be it going to the bank to change our checking account to a "better deal" or calling the phone company to make a change to our plan...

Now, I understand they have these privacy policies in place for our safety blah blah blah...so I go into these places well armed with Kyle's orders, my power of attorney, our marriage license. You name it, I've got it. And yet, some of these costumer service dumb dumbs tell me they will need to speak with both me and my husband for authorization.

I have a new favorite phrase for them. "NO, I would not like to speak with another costumer service representative. Just get me whomever is in charge!!" They say the squeaky wheel gets the oil. Well, I have learned to squeak. Loudly.

RUN KYLE RUN

Pushing his physical limits once again, Kyle will be running in not one but two half-marathons this weekend. One on Saturday and one on Sunday. He says these organized runs are a good way to lift his spirits, to get his mind off what is going on around him. He also digs the race t-shirts...he's collected about a dozen in the last few months.

They start these runs at a ridiculously early hour of the day to avoid the heat. So even though it means getting up BEFORE the crack of dawn, Kyle continues to participate in as many of these runs as possible. And I continue to be his biggest cheerleader and proud wife, cheering for him from the distant sidelines here at home.

Kareful Kathy

Kyle and I both like a little adventure and trying things that some might describe as risky. But its all in fun. And although I do enjoy these things, I am a "Safety Sally," a "Kareful Kathy"about them. I like pushing the limits in the safest way possible. Kyle on the other hand needs regular reminders, from his "Kareful Kathy" that he is not invincible and needs to take the necessary precaution. For example, photographed here Kyle is 40 feet up on a concrete aircraft bunkers. There are no railings and he is not wearing a helmet. Just off camera is a 20ft wide crater in the side of the bunker where it was struck by an American missile, leaving some question over the stability
of the structure itself. You better believe this would not occur on my watch.