I'm no tooth fairy!

No topic creeps me out more than teeth. Just seeing the word kind of makes me nauseous!

Now add the words dentist and Garrett into the conversation and you probably get an idea of the stress level around these here parts. Someday I may have the courage to share G's adventures in dentistry with all of you. For now, I'll just tell you he's been asked to not return from more than one practice.

Dave had the courage to make the appointment with a neighbor that lives just down the street. I've been cringing for weeks in anticipation. If this goes bad - I still have to drive by their house daily. Multiple times! Madi will never be asked to babysit for them again!

BUT . . . .
I heard the appointment went well. I was sedated at home in bed.

Lang's Glimpse of Guam

After seeing different variations of Guam videos make the rounds on Facebook, I wanted to share our own Glimpse of Guam. I first made this video for some very dear friends as they moved off the island, and used it as a template for our own family's version.  Good memories!

Random thoughts

Dear City Planners,
I don't understand the thought process used while planning the Northeast corner of the Springs. I long for a straight road that takes me east/west.  One that doesn't make me carsick from all the ups and downs or the winding twists and turns.

Regards,
Gas Guzzler

***

Sweet Sunflower Boys,
I love my yard. It makes me smile every day.

With gratitude,
Mrs. L

***

Dearest G,
Your List is a resource that makes me both laugh and pull my hair out at the same time.

Merry Christmas,
Mrs. Claus

***

Dear 2010 Christmas Cards,
I'm still iffy on whether to create you or not. Finding a photo of G is just one of the obstacles that stand in my way.

Sincerely,
Wishy Washy

A date which will live in infamy

69 years ago President Roosevelt broadcast those words following the attack on Naval Base Pearl Harbor and the Pacific.


Fast forward to 2009 . . . . . .

When we finally received our housing on Hickam, I was bummed to say the least. It was OLD. Ugly. Tiny. But. . . . "Historical".We set out to make the rounds of our new neighborhood to gather our bearings.

At first glance, I saw chunks of concrete missing from walls of buildings and idly thought there were definitely parts of this base could sure use some work.

I knew of the history of Hickam Field, but had never come this close to it.

I eventually opened my eyes and really took notice of the damage that mars the building. My mind instantly went to thoughts of those who had meandered these same sidewalks before me so many years ago. 

The sight of the many pockmarks and bullet holes serve as a constant reminder of those 2,402 people who lost their lives Dec. 7, 1941. More than 130 medals, including 16 Medals of Honor, were awarded to those who fought most valiantly to defend against the attack.

At every opportunity, our little family earnestly took visitors to take a closer look at those pockmarks and bullet holes. We scoured the plaques and remnants on Ford Island, playing on the same banyan trees that carefree military kids had played on December 6, 1941 - shoving history into our visitor's vacation framed minds.

Being able to attend and witness the ceremony last year made me realize how very few survivors are left.


It's so important to our nation's history to tell the story of Dec. 7, 1941. It still relates to 9/11 and the world's current events today.

I don't want future generations to not understand the battle cry "Remember Pearl Harbor".

Just pondering . . . .

I made a choice last night. Nothing grand, no drama, just a forward motion.

I picked up where I left off on my mom's quilt I so hastily put away last November.

Today marks the beginning of a week from 2009 forever frozen in time for me. The week my mom finally went to the hospital, David left for Las Vegas, the week of so many phone calls!

Looking back, I see so clearly the Lord's Hands at work.

David was able to see my mom (albeit just briefly).

Most important to me, I had the best support system in paradise anyone could ask for.

The Mountain

More than a few friends have asked, "What is this mountain you keep referring to?"

I guess I've taken for granted that most folks have seen Stargate. (Or maybe that's just my nephew and nieces that are science fiction crazed.)

The Cheyenne Mountain Complex is the official name. And just as the name says - it is one complex location!

Trying not to use MilSpeak, let me give you a very brief overview. (When you have ample time, Dave would LOVE to give you every detail.)

The design of this facility makes it one of the most unusual installations in the world. Apart from the fact that it is housed 2,000 feet (600 m) inside the granite mountain, the interior was actually designed by the US Navy. It is also notable in that it houses a bi-national United States and Canadian organization charged with the missions of aerospace warning, aerospace control and maritime warning for North America.

Highlights:

*25 ton blast doors.

*4.5 acre of excavated chambers & tunnels

*15 buildings. 12 of those buildings are 3 stories tall. All of them freestanding, without contact to the mountain itself.

How, you ask?

All of the buildings are mounted on 1,319 steel springs, each weighing approximately 1,000 pounds. The springs allow the complex to move 12 inches in any one direction.

*To make the complex self-sufficient, adequate space in the complex is devoted to support functions. A dining facility, medical facility with dental office, pharmacy and a two-bed ward; two physical fitness centers with exercise equipment and sauna; a small base exchange, chapel, and barber shop are all located within the complex.

We like to sum it up by likening it to an aircraft carrier built inside the mountain.

Time.com has a great photo tour. Giving some pretty cool glimpses into what most of us will never actually see. Click here to take a gander.

Want even better photos of inside?

Cnet had the best photo tour I could find. Don't miss their descriptions that accompany each photo on the right hand side. It's like taking a quickie engineering class for dumbies.

Seriously, go look at them!

A trip to the complex doesn't happen for Dave daily. In fact, it's rather rare. And thank goodness! The process of just getting inside to a work station is quite cumbersome.

However, we can't help be get excited at one project associated with NORAD. Tracking Santa! Having been such active participants in this tradition since the kids were just little, we're excited to be on the operating end of it this year.

To read the story of how NORAD Tracks Santa all began, click here.

*photos courtesy of norad.mil

The Poppy Campaign

Dave's been off playing War Games locked inside a mountain all week. I've barely seen him. But when I do, I can't help but notice his bright red poppy.

It was given to him by one of his Canadian Military counterparts that works alongside him in the surgeons office.

When he can't wear the poppy on his uniform, I've seen it on his work bag.

I can tell he respects this tradition and obviously what this poppy represents. So of course, I want explanations.

Not having much time for conversation lately - he summed up by telling me to google "In Flanders Fields" . . . . .

So you don't have to google yourselves, I'll share what I learned:

The use of the poppy as a symbol of remembrance comes from a poem written by John McCrae, a Canadian doctor serving in the military. The poem is called In Flanders Fields and describes the poppies growing in the Flemish graveyards where soldiers were buried.

In Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Each November, Poppies blossom on the lapels and collars of over half of Canada’s entire population. Since 1921, the Poppy has stood as a symbol of Remembrance, our visual pledge to never forget all those Canadians who have fallen in war and military operations. The Poppy also stands internationally as a “symbol of collective reminiscence”, as other countries have also adopted its image to honour those who have paid the ultimate sacrifice.

The official start of the Poppy Campaign is the last Friday in October and runs until November 11.

Scavenger Saturday

We've been seen scavenging around the neighborhood.

A fellow neighbor called me on it.

Guilty!

In all actuality, we've been gathering wood for the fire pit. It's hard for me to justify spending money on a bundle of wood when there's plenty scattered about from all the new construction.

So we decided, why not take that abandoned wood and create something fun.

Dave put together a couple of crates,

... we scavenged cans from the garbage (my own, by the way) for the tin pumpkins,

... and scavenged my stash of vinyl for the sign.

Colorado, the Front Range

I think it took an ariel view (from atop Pike's Peak) to really appreciate what the Front Range really means.

Our lives are full of color

I love what paint color can do to base housing. It instantly adds warmth, coziness, personality.

And there's no denying that in some of the older housing - you know it's all the layers of previous paint that's helping keep those walls from collapsing.

Moving into the Springs house - the thought of painting these walls overwhelmed me. Too many, too high, too new

Madi's room was the exception, of course. She had her bedroom plan executed within the first week or so.

We played with the other rooms here and there - painting samples, taping up paint chips. 

The family room got the red accent, the hallway couldn't avoid getting striped - but other than that, nothing bold to be seen.

Until ... A lady from the neighborhood came over to "Visit" last week. 

Her first comment as she walked in, "Wow, it looks like Beige threw up all over in here."

(YIKES!)

I'm sure my face matched what I was thinking because she followed up by saying,"But that's o.k., all our houses look like some variation of this."

Hmmm, that didn't help me any.

So I took my splotches seriously. We jumped in and decided to commit 
(at least for now)

I want to disclose something

I can't tell you how many times we surprise people when we talk about our family of 4. Or when someone happens upon a rare family snapshot that includes G.

"You mean Madi isn't your only child?"

Some of you know that G is autistic…or has autism…or is on the autism spectrum . . . . Who knows the politically correct way to say it these days. Let me just sum it up by letting you in on a tip: you probably don’t want to sit in front of him on a long haul flight. He’s very particular about his world and what he wants.

Having a child with autis…..having a child who nobody wants to be on a flight sharing their seat back with does open your eyes to the toleration levels of people in our society.

Folks have their own interpretation of how/why G has his quirks. One afternoon after a heartfelt disclosure, a mom in a previous neighborhood actually had the audacity to tell me that in her opinion "all the answers lie in a family's parenting skills".

How I wish my mom was around to correct her on that one! (And we all know Melodee would!)

The Young Men's experience of this past week combined with hours and hours alone have given me ample opportunity for reflection.

I think I tend to hold off on sharing this "label" too freely about G because I want folks to see the amazing young man that he is, and not a boy who is on the "Spectrum". And let's face it - it's hard to hear some folk's harsh opinions.

The military has labeled us as EFMP. A program for families with an Exceptional Family Member - even going so far as to varying degrees of how 'exceptional' a family's needs may be.

Schools have IEPs - a plan that specifies what a certain student may need.
Church has it's own label, but I won't re-address that.

The older G gets - the wider the gap becomes between him and his peers. I'm having to accept these differences. Not in a negative way, mind you. Just a realization that my once ambitious expectations of what raising a teen-aged son would be like are now drastically different.

My longstanding joke of packing G's typical pb&j lunch and driving him to NASA for work becomes more and more of a reality each day.

I absolutely LOVE this photo of our little family from what seems like many moons ago. It captured the real dynamics of who we were back then, and still are.

Nope, we are a family of 4. Our lives are intertwined yet parallel - and as tight as any family can be!

One step forward, two steps back

Before we accepted David's calling as priest/youth advisor at church- we had a really nice chat with a member of the bishopric (local leadership). They wanted to make sure that by having Dave working with the Young Men - it wouldn't be putting any additional strain on our own family dynamics. My guard immediately dropped - I could have burst into tears at that very moment. Could it be possible that someone is truly aware and in tune with how different a family runs when one of the members is not "neurotypical"*?

They captured my heart!

Fast forward a few weeks to last Sunday. Dave went to a leadership training where instruction for a new program was laid out. Today's youth are faced with incredible temptations, challenges and obstacles that I'm not sure I would be able to withstand at their age. We all get that.

Statistics were presented and used as reasoning for pushing this program so hard. And that's where I faded out . . . .G is included in the "lost" group. Not his name specifically. Just his statistic.

It stung a little bit - but I'll shrug it off.

Now this morning I've come across Dave's email account . . .a group email sent to all members of the young men. We should have known, but our young men are super-active in school activities. In order to plan the best that we can, we’d like to have your football, marching band, basketball, etc. schedules as soon as you have them. We’ll be trying, as a quorum, to also support each other by attending some shows/games!

Speaking of support, remember our amazing #2 finish in the Regional YM Basketball Tournament last year? I remember some awesome young women coming out and cheering for our Ward. YW Basketball is on Sept 29th and it’d be cool to represent! Just an idea…

Keep an eye out for Garrett L at school. He’s also 15, in our ward, but not active. A new area and school can be really tough, I challenge each of you to introduce yourselves and let him know he’s got some built-in friends in the Teachers Quorum.

My feelings were hurt. 
I know you must be asking "But WHY? They're just making sure G is included?"

Yes, on the surface.

What you don't see included is any evidence that we had a pretty in depth conversation with the leader of this age group and shared a lot of specifics about G.

First and foremost - that Garrett is NOT a neurotypical. He never will be. He's just NOT one of them . . .

For example: did you know G can't tie his own shoe? Why would anyone want to hang out with a bunch of "super-active" peers when you feel like an idiot for not even being able to accomplish a task that many neurotypicals have accomplished by age 5.

G watches Disney movies over and over and over. It's calming to him (drives me insane, but I can deal). We have heard the lines and songs from Aladdin all summer long - especially in these last few weeks leading up to school starting.

Really, is he going to be able to blend in with these guys without physically feeling these differences?

School activities/games like those listed in the email above have potential to cause a huge meltdown that we as a family would feel the repercussions at home for weeks.

Now let me disclose why he's not "active".

In his words . . . . It's not worth it.

It doesn't fall into his parameters of 'Stress Caused to Outcome Achieved'.

He also hangs on to hurts, it's almost like they become part of his very fiber.

At age 7 while he was waiting out the 3 hour church block alone on the couch foyer, he was told by a respected member of our local leadership at the time, "You're not a happy boy because you're not choosing to attend your primary class." 

(Here's a tip: Manipulation in any manner absolutely does not work with kids like G.)

Unfortunately what that leader couldn't see was the sheer exhaustion and stress on that 7 year old boy to sit in primary. What most of us consider as fun - including singing and sometimes even laughter - to G and others like him is just a sensory overloaded environment.

It's not worth it.

While I applaud the efforts put forth in the email, I wish that the approach was different.

He needs friends. He craves them. 
But ultimately the costs in G's mind aren't worth it.

More importantly he needs understanding. I need understanding. 
Then maybe a friendship could actually be formed.

He has SO much to give.

Don't just label as "active" or "inactive". Find out what's truly behind those easily distributed labels!

*Like that term? I learned it just this morning.

Neurotypical: Term used to describe a non-autistic person.

A gift

Back to Real Life (a.k.a. - SCHOOL)

Maybe I should have titled it "Back to what is considered the Social Norm - school". Because this is feeling anything BUT normal for our NavyLang family. Attending a public school in the suburbs with a heavy Caucasian population - never been done. Ever.

We were up before the sun (gasp). And just so you know, we can see the sun rise all the way from Kansas out here.  Sorry Misse - no mountains adding to the drama of the morning bursting open for the day.

The traditional funeral potatoes were amongst the choices in our breakfast of champions.

I keep telling myself the 'Grandfather approved' Watsonville strawberries helped counter some of that cheesy, gloopy goodness of a casserole.  And have you tried the Galvanina Blood Orange Beverage from Costco? Believe me - it's perfect for an occasion like this morning.

It's not even 9 in the morning and I'm antsy. I find myself wanting to keep really busy so I don't have too many quiet moments where my mind wanders - wondering how the kids must be doing.

At least the landscapers are around to help pass the day.

Back to school.

We've been doing stuff with the Academy District 20 in preparation for the new school year. I'm constantly amazed by all that is offered through public school here. A few times this week I think I've been caught with my mouth literally hanging open in awe. (Madi's counselor actually called me on it, much to Madi's chagrin.)

Having received the kids records from their Hawaii schools (basically DoDEA records - along with our application from Honolulu district requesting homeschool) - G's counselor had plans (options) ready for us to approve so they could be put into action.

Madi's school - even with no special needs, being just a typical student - well let's just say I'm just about giddy (maybe a tiny bit overwhelmed) by what's offered.

I can't help but feel a bit saddened when I think how schools in Hawaii are so short changed. Even though I'm hopeful Hawaii's infamous 3 1/2 day school week is a thing of the past, the whole attitude (apathy) about public education there needs a serious kick in the pants!

That being said - I do think Hawaii's kids are getting an education in things that can't be taught/gained in any typical setting. I would never be able to truly appreciate all these little details that others seemingly take for granted had we not lived through the last year in Hawaii.

The many faces of furniture

Is that the same old hutch from my bedroom over 30 years ago, you ask?
Why yes it is!

Very therapeutic to sand the bazillion old layers, paint on a zillion more layers, move it to every possible corner of the main level, hate this new house and all it's new-ness, then finally settle on a decent location for the project that will have way too many feelings associated with it.
And all before hubs came home.

It's all so overwhelming . . . .

I need to figure out how to keep the island mentality we've come to love and embrace over the past 6 years and apply it to living back in the 24/7 world.

I see trees on the horizon!

We have a Landscaping Contract Signed!

After a month of landscaping bids (and suffering PTLSS*) - we finally decided to go back to the first and our favorite landscape design . . . .Sunflower Landcare. (or as Dave calls them, the Sunshine Boys)

Quaking Aspen (hello Old Coventry!)

Flagstone patio (throwback to Gramma Hart's)

Our own fire pit (no more s'mores over the tiny chafing fuel gadget)

Do I dare say I was a bit biased when I heard one of the designer's name was Sheldon?

Unfortunately we still have a few weeks wait. One of the downfalls of a new neighborhood I guess.

*Post Traumatic Landscape Sticker Shock

First Impressions

As our sun kissed faces looked down from the tin can sized SkyWest airplane, I couldn't help but notice the snow tipped mountains we were flying over. After we landed, the reality that we have put the tropical lifestyle on hold truly sank in.

My first impressions of Colorado Springs: it looked like a prairie and I swear I saw Little House. Where were all the trees? And I sure as heck didn't any Springs!

20 minutes north of the airport, and an increase of 2000 feet in elevation - we saw Casa de Lang (isn't Spanish a first language on the mainland?) my face did light up a bit.

I was impressed - we did a pretty good job making all those decisions via email. Not to mention Adam with Classic Homes was truly a godsend for us!

With a huge sigh of relief, we ventured out to see more of the area that will be home for the next 3 years . . . .

We've traded in boonie dogs and chickens for boonie deer and foul of some sort. They looked like turkeys to me...

Statues of various American Frontier themes have replaced the palm trees that used to dot our landscape... 

The NavyLang Adventure continues!

Where the wild things are . . . .

... Hickam Edition

My Mother's Day Lei

I know how hard it was for Dave to find "just the right one".

But he did.

May Day is Lei Day

Now who doesn't love getting a lei (besides my dad).

Saturday marked the 83rd annual Lei Day here in Hawaii.

I've always been fascinated by this beautiful adornment that to me is such a tangible expression of Aloha.

I couldn't wait to receive my own lei our first time visiting Hawaii.

Growing up I was always intrigued by Polynesian families that would adorn their family members with layers and layers of leis around their necks at graduations or celebrations. I've since learned that leis are so much more than a circle of pretty flowers. They are cherished gifts that used and given to show love, joy, sympathy, as greetings and farewell.

"He Mo`olelo o ka Lei" is said as a reminder that lei tells a story, perhaps of farewell, of return, or a job well done. . . but always, the story is of love.

While living on this side of the Pacific, I've been able to take part in this tradition that I had always adored from afar.

Soon after learning of Grandma Green's rapid decline in her health and her waning eyesight - I was excited to bring her the most wonderfully scented ginger lei during one trip home from Guam.

I had the most beautiful leis specially made for my mom and Aunt Kathy for Grandma Hart's funeral.

The week before my mom passed away - David was able to deliver a colorful crocheted lei that the kids had picked out for her to have at the hospital. I heard it lit up her eyes.

I wore that same lei to church today - in honor of lei day.

"Giving a lei lets someone know you love, respect and honor them. Even though a floral lei lasts a short time, the thought behind it lingers." Marie McDonald, renowned lei specialist

Aloha.

My comfort zone is starting to get uncomfortable

Our little family has had a rough year:

Moving

'wait-list homelessness' at the Navylodge

Homeschool (yes, it's rough)

and way too many goodbyes - some more temporal than others.

But the one constant throughout all of this has been our extended o'hana, the Lallatin's.

There are kids in my life that I love like my own. People in my life whom I love like my own blood. And I have the Dawg's growth charts on my hallway wall to prove it.

First meeting these guys years ago in Guam - they moved to Hawaii within a week of our arrival. They were our instant comfort zone!

Birthdays, holidays, trains and Tara's dinners!

Tara was the one who unpacked my onebumkitchen - and enjoyed it!

Cody endured a week with Mollydog - because they knew there was no other option for Garrett.

Tara was the one who drove over to my house in the middle of the night just to give me a hug within the first moments of me waking her up to tell her my mom had just died.

I know for the next while there will be tears mixed with laughter; (highschool)musical mixed with memory and joy mixed with heartache.

It's time to adjust.

Take time to smell the frangipani

I just came in from our nightly cockroach dive with Molly. While we were outside enjoying the evening chill I noticed this wonderful familiar scent. The plumerias are in full bloom! The scent of that tropical flower is incredibly intoxicating. (And I'm not referring to the body lotion type)

I've had a love affair with this particular flower that dates back to our first visit to Hawaii many years ago.
I was so excited when we arrived on Guam to see plumerias everywhere! I thought I had landed in paradise (a ghetto paradise, but still . . . .)

In 2005 while I was in Hawaii having some ugly skin cancer removed, my sweet David planted a plumeria tree directly out our back window in Guam. It was one of the best welcome home gifts a girl could have ever imagined!

Like I said - it's a beautiful and exotic botanical.

And unfortunately there aren't any in Colorado Springs!

As I came back in the house tonight, I decided I need to go back for a brief re-sniff; just for those of you who aren't able to enjoy it for yourself right now.

If you can't play with the big dogs . . . .

.... Don't go to the beach!
(a typical Sunday at Dog Beach on Hickam. Molly actually loves it!)

April 12, 1971

My dear friend Misse posted some wonderful insight on her blog a while back. Rather than try and rewrite the same idea - just pop over and read for yourself.