International Wife

So International Wife, aka Kelli, is home.

It was a good, really sweet scene yesterday at the airport when she emerged from exactly the right door at exactly the right time. The kids ran over for hugs and kisses, and I captured the whole thing on video.

And I must say that for a woman who'd been in transit (and awake) for 24 hours, she was surprisingly together and HERSELF.

We went straight to Red Robin for a celebratory meal. Her only request: "No pasta."

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We did a lot of catching up. She distributed gifts from across the world. The kids got a variety of whistling noisemakers. They're quite clever, mimicking bird, frog and other sounds. But when a toddler gets hold of them they become Weapons of Eardrum Destruction.

(I'm not complaining, don't get me wrong... I find it kind of amusing, actually)

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So she got me something...

I wasn't expecting this.

I mean, I expected the tin of fine Illi coffee, sure. Vetivert lotion, niiiiiice.

But dude.

Dude!

She... appealed to the jacket fetishist in me.

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I've long sought a 3/4 length jacket. I like to wear sweaters in the winter, and a standard length jacket often isn't long enough to pair well with them.

And you know, as many times as I've looked, as many times as I've found jackets that met the criteria, and for decent prices... I never found THE ONE.

Little did I know, THE ONE was in Florence.

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She and some classmates had spent some time in the company of a leather shop proprietor named Marco. They'd had dinner even, gone out... I'd joked about Marco's intentions, but really... I was just joking.

This is his store.

THIS is the jacket she got me there.

Dude... it's... it's made out of antelope! It's got that suede look, but doesn't ruin if it gets wet like suede.

And the fit is perfect, just perfect. Kelli was far braver than I to invest in a garment like this and haul it across the world, hoping she got the size right.

She did. Wow. Sleeves, shoulders... perfect size, and can accommodate a sweater too.

It's currently 100.2 here. I'll wait until it dips below 95 to wear it around... (with my shorts and sandals, of course).

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I can't locate her jacket on the site offhand, but if you poke around you'll see how much utterly cool stuff Marco sells.

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The kids, of course, have clung to her pretty closely since her return. Her sleep schedule still needs adjusting, of course.

THEGIRL is in there napping with her right now.

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Moment: Wondering where THEGIRL was this morning. I walked down the hall and saw her emerge from her brother's room, with a huge orange bucket covering her head. It was hysterically funny, and I was amazed that the maneuvered so well while wearing it.

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So now we're just staying in, trying to avoid the heat.

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Moment #2: THEGIRL, still in "bucket head" mode, wandering to the dinner table and lifting the bucket just long enough to grab a slice of tomato and eat it. I'm chuckling just thinking about it.

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From the "Bigger" journal:

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July 4, 2006

Happy Independence Day, everyone (even though you’re reading this in August).

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This morning’s weight: 157

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Cardio day, which is a tougher thing to accomplish with two kids in tow than you might imagine. I could… what, run around in circles in the living room?

We ended up going out to the college jogging track at about 11:30am. It’s nearly 90 in the shade, so I imagine it was plenty hot out on that track.

I took a big jug of drinks and a pair of big rubber balls for the kids to play with. I set them up on a bench in the shade and advised them to drink as much as they wanted and play with the balls.

I figured from the bench to the tennis courts is about 50 yards, so I started doing wind sprints there and back.

The kids hardly touched the balls. They wanted to run with me, yelling for me to wait or to play tag, or maybe that they were going to smash into me when I turned back around. I ended up barking out some very clear orders.

THEBOY, in full-blown Little Attorney mode, wanted to argue when I told him to scream as loudly as he could if that backwards hat-wearin’ young men across the road approached him. “I don’t want to scream, I want to do something else.”

Like what, an interpretative dance? I told him he has the loudest voice I’ve ever heard, and he should use it if he’s ever in danger.

“But I don’t waaaaaaant to.”

I had a look around to see if maybe there was a roving band of gypsies to sell him to, but had no luck.

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Just had another protein shake. I dropped about three tablespoons of low-carb peanut butter into the blender, along with a banana. Now THAT was good! It helped the flavor nicely, and added even more protein.

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But ye gods am I sore. THEGIRL pulled a stunt today, arching her back in mid-air as I picked her up. My sore muscles could barely handle the awkward angle, and I had to raise my voice at her.

Come on home, Kelli…