It’s all Greek to me.

Gus makes up words. Today in the bath she swirled up some bubbles, poured them into a cup and said, "Mommy, this is a squirtydortydirtysquirbydabbaopowinaweena." Easy for her to say.

What words do your kids invent?

Leader of the [Brat] Pack

This is a repost of a blog I originally published on myspace in 2008.

I didn't always love being an Army brat when I was one, but now I am so glad that was my life growing up. I had so many opportunities that I'd never have had if my Dad had been in another line of work. We got to live in Germany twice, Washington D.C. a time or two, Kansas a few times. I got to be born in the Great State of Oklahoma (Lawton), I got to have a built-in best friend in each location named Jeremy, my cooler-than-Cheez Whiz older brother who always let me hang with him and his friends. We played some of the coolest games of "war" together, complete with Star Wars blasters and real Army stuff like canteens and field jackets and other things I don't know the official names of, courtesy of Dear Old Dad.

Growing up Brat was pretty rock and roll. Except the moving every 2-3 years part. I still get antsy every 3 years or so, thinking that at any moment, a team of movers should be storming my house to put all my belongings on a truck to take it to the next place. The moving away from friends business sucked pretty much and I cried buckets and buckets and cursed my dad each time certain I'd never fit in anywhere else ever again EVER, then 3 years later I was doing it all over again. Even with all the moving around, I crossed paths with some of my friends in many different places - for example, my senior year boyfriend had lived down the street when we were 3 and his mom had the birthday party photos to prove it, and my best friend from Kindergarten who moved away was again my best friend in 6th and 7th when our dad's got stationed at the Pentagon. My dear friend Kellie from 4^th grade was again a dear friend in 11^th and 12^th. It did get a bit confusing at times though – sometimes I'd see people in the halls at school and wasn't sure if I remembered them from our last station or from last week. Having to make new friends so often did force me to be more outgoing and take a use-it-or-lose-it approach to making friends. Why sit in the house moping all summer when you can be out there meeting people and ensuring you won't sit alone in the cafeteria the first day of school?

One of the best parts of growing up Brat was the travel. I lived in Germany twice – the first time in 2^nd, 3^rd & 4^th grade, then again in 9^th and 10^th. The first time we lived in Germany, Jeremy and I would travel together to the bakery down the street and fill our mom's order for bread and rolls and sometimes there would be enough left over for a few selections from the wall of candy. We'd also take trips through the scary woods where we were sure Bigfoot was buried or scarier still, Nazi bunkers filled with old men in uniforms just waiting for an opportunity like us. Then there were real live trips: my family traveled through France to the ferry which took us to England, then drove up to Scotland – even to LOCH NESS which was the scariest, coolest and most disappointing place my 8 year old self had ever been (was that the monster, Mom?? No, just a branch. ARRRGH!). The second time I lived in Germany, my brother and I traveled by train each Sunday to Bremerhaven for school. We lived in dorms during the week and went home every Friday to spend the weekend with our parents. It was the closest American high school, and the alternative was German school (didn't speak the language well enough) or the British school (spoke the language, but oh, that's a whole 'nother blog). We chose American. I was a freshman, he was a senior, our Mom was a wreck. We had to transfer trains at the station in Bremen which, in case you ever find yourself there, had a little stand outside which sold the best gyros sandwiches in the world. Jeremy and I also traveled to Paris and Egypt (with groups) and to Holland for shopping and American movies (in English, with Dutch subtitles – worth the hour drive and the fumbling for passports). I got to see the Berlin Wall when there still was one– I wrote on it in eyeliner because stupid me didn't bring a Sharpie. Want to teach a teenager to appreciate freedom? Take them to a place where there isn't any. Make them hold their face up to the bus window next to their passport and let an East German with a machine gun approve or deny their travel back to the West.

I got my first passport at age 7. Along with a buttload of shots (literally, though some also went into my leg). My mom always kept my passport in a lockbox at home when we weren't traveling, but as a teenager I was trusted with it. In Europe, sometimes traveling to another country was less than an hours train ride and you had to have a passport or you couldn't enter the country. Years after I came back to the states – years after my passport expired even – I drove from Lawrence to Oklahoma with a boyfriend. As the toll booth appeared in the distance, I got a nervous pang as I realized I'd forgotten my passport. Seconds later I realized that one doesn't need a passport to get from Kansas to Oklahoma, dumbass. And in that moment, it occurred to me that traveling from state to state ought to be a little more dramatic with fanfare and documents to make it more exciting.

There are times I really miss being a Brat. I loved watching my dad get all dressed up in his Dress Blues and go to big events with my mom. My mom always laughed that her job was to make him look good, and boy did she ever. I even got to dress up a time or two and accompany my dad to some pretty glam events. All girls love a man in uniform, and I'm no exception. It's just that my vision of a man in uniform is my Daddy and there's really no topping that.

When I dropped out of school at 20, I received my walking papers from Uncle Sam. I was no longer eligible for dependent benefits – had I stayed in school, they would have extended but because I dropped out, my number was up. I kept my military dependent ID card, though I was supposed to turn it in. I told my dad it was because I loved the picture but in all honesty, it was just my way of holding on to a little piece of my history. My card that said I belonged somewhere. That little orange card gave me a place in the world. When you're a Brat, you don't have a home. But you always have a place. And an ID card to prove it. And sometimes, if you're lucky, some really cool stamps in your passport. And a lot of friends who can totally relate.

GO ARMY!

writing on the Berlin Wall, 1988.

Ottobeuren, Germany 1982

The hills are alive with the sound of snickering.

Interview with the Vampire (slayer-musical-episode-soundtrack-loving-3-year-old)

Tonight I "interviewed" my daughter at bedtime.

What is your favorite color?

Blue. And pink and green and red and green and BWACK!!!

What is your favorite food?

Cereal and milk, cheese and boogers. Just kiddin'!!! I love Spaghetti and meatballs. Can I have some spaghetti and meatballs now?

What is your favorite movie?

The Wizard of Woz, Nightmare Before Christmas because it has a pumpkin king and Santa Claus, the Powerpuff Girls where they all change bodies but not the one with Mojo because I don't like him. He is a jerk and he is creepy.

What do you want to be when you grow up?

A doctor because I wuv animals. And people too. I could be a girl doctor, because I'm a girl. Or maybe a doctor who helps all people.

Where do you want to live when you grow up?

In this house, with Mommy and Daddy. And they can be doctors too.

What is your favorite song?

Shut Up and Let Me Go, and the number two song from Buffy [the Vampire Slayer musical episode soundtrack, "I've Got a Theory" is the song she means] and also Journey.

What is your favorite place to visit?

The STORE but only when they have COOKIES!! And Granny's house. Can we go to Granny's house? And the GYM because Miss Linda lets me cut yarn after I pick up all the toys and I can get the paper towels ready for the next person.

What is your…

Ok, Mommy. It's time for you to go to sweep in your own bed.

A few gems from my best gal

Augusta asked how old I am. I told her to guess. She said, "Five teen". When I told her my actual age, she said incredulously, "thirtyFIVE??!?!??!"

She likes the song "I Kissed a Girl". She sings it "I kissed a girl and I liked it and then I married Jackman".

Tonight she told me: "I don't like you Mommy. But I WUV YOU!!"

Augusta dressed as Dorothy for Halloween. We trick or treated all over the neighborhood, and by the time I said it was time to get home, she didn't argue. In fact, when we neared the house she grabbed my hand a little tighter and said, "Oh Mommy, there's NO place like HOME!"

Silent Sunday