Don't Go. We'll eat you up.I love you so.

For months I have anticipated a childhood friend's arrival at the box offices and as I piled into a crowded movie theater late last night, I surely wasn't disappointed. The movie Where the Wild Things Are, based on the 1963 children's book, lovingly smashed through the silverscreen and rode me piggy back to my own childhood. I couldn't help but smile as I watched the young boy throw snow at his sister, dance wildly as his mother spoke on the telephone or when, in a fit, young Max jumps on the table and yells "Feed me, woman!"
What's more, I knew that little boy-- not only from my own experience at being a sometimes-problem child-- but also from the playground, the grocery store, at church or a friend's house. Max represents what it means to be a child-- completely unaware of social norms, confused by adult logic and wrecklessly holding onto love all the while enjoying the endlessly the world around him.
Carrol, the large "wild thing" that Max befriends presents a reflection of Max himself-- clearly possessing the same enjoyment of life and love as Max, while also being disillusioned with the realities of the adult world. As the two play and interact, Max is confronted with a larger than life version of himself and is forced to understand a concept so foreign to most: unselfish and unconditional love. As Max drifts away on the little boat that furiously carried him to the island, he waves good bye to the 'wild things' and his own selfishness.
As I sat in the darkened theater, attempting to hide the tears streaming down my face during what I thought was a children's movie, I realized that this movie brought to life more than just the characters on the pages of Maurice Sendak's children book, but it also conjured up lessons learned while playing on the playground or fighting with siblings. It reminded me not only what it meant to be a kid, but also of all the lessons so easily forgotten as we navigate the perils of living and loving.

A red, white and blue kind of day.

4th of July has always been a holiday of significance in my family considering that both of my parents are veterans-- my father having served in the U.S. Army for over 20 years and my mother serving in the Army with three small children at home.

Memories of the 4th of July as a child include the usual fireworks, grilled foods and those little American flags on sticks that seem to be as plentiful as mosquitos on a hot July day. Every year someone plays God Bless the U.S.A, always bringing a tear to my mother's eye-- which I have most recently taken up in her abscence-- and I've spent many a 4th of July staring up at the sky watching airplanes streak across the sky, performing barrel rolls and spelling words with smoke from the engines. The usual patriotic music would be playing in the background and in between shows we'd walk around and sit in helicopters, jets, airplanes and old U.S. Army jeeps. No matter what city, state or country my nomadic family would eventually find themselves in-- this was how we spent these annual summer celebrations with our backs atop an afghan and our eyes turned to the sky as we oohed and ahhed at the burst of color in the sky.

With so few traditions among Army families, Independence Day always has a special place in the military community-- not just to bring justification of so many sacrfices... but also as a way to bring military families together to sit on blankets and stare into the sky.

Together.

Somewhere over the Rainbow.

A little over a week ago I watched my hero graduate with his Masters in Science Administration. It has been an amazing inspiration to watch him pursue his education with such determination over the past few years. I seriously wonder how he managed to juggle a full time job, keep my sister's and I from emotionally and financially face planting and maintaining a 4.0 GPA. I definitely wonder if I'm doing something wrong when my GPA is definitively lower... hmmm.

Anyway, it was a beautiful ceremony and among the screaming and cheering there was a strained 22 year old little girl yelling "I LOVE YOU DADDY!" from somewhere in the 5th row.

Congrats Papi.

I went to see the movie Up today... it confirmed a long time itchy feeling that I've had for some time now-- that I need an adventure. Not just any adventure-- something epic.