So, I signed up to do THIS.
Should be fun and interesting and well, muddy and dirty!
Monday, May 23, 2011
Friday, May 20, 2011
It's confirmed....He's confirmed!
Let's talk about something a little more upbeat on the Kirby Krew blog!
Tyler was confirmed a few weeks ago.
Congrats and good work and welcome!
My baby is 14, almost 15 and will be a freshman in HIGH SCHOOL next year, how did that happen?
We are all so proud of you Tyler.....
Proud of the nice young man you are,
Proud of the bright future ahead of you,
Proud of your accomplishments this far in life......
and Proud of what you will accomplish in the future!
I love my Krew.
And Kirby really misses the 4 year old boy he used to carry around...
Thanks for being a great kid Tyler.
We all love you!
Monday, May 16, 2011
My Marine.....
It amazes me how quickly life can turn in a matter of a few minutes. One minute you are putting away laundry and the next minute you are driving someone you love to the hospital. Things happen for a reason and somehow, everything falls into place.
For example......my Dad staying overnight and being able to stay with the kids while we went to the hospital.
For example......having the internet to determine that I needed to get Kirby to the hospital.
For example......waiting for the surgeon to come in and in walks our first daycare provider for Emma. Heather was going to school for RN while running a daycare and now works as an RN. What are the chances that she is going to be the surgical nurse that night for my hubby?
For example....sending out text messages at 2am in the morning to friends and family and asking for prayers and getting responses back right away to help occupy my time while Kirby was in surgery.
For example......Kirby coming out of surgery just fine, less one body part he didn't need anyways.
Thank you for small favors..........
Friday, May 13, 2011
On the Mend.
On the evening of Mother’s Day, my bride and I were able to take in a movie. Being that it was a holiday celebrating all that moms do for us, I let Michele pick the flick we’d watch. Michele choose the love story called, “Something Borrowed”. I’m embarrassed to say that recently I was in a conversation where I heard this genre referred to as “ROM-COM”. You know the type... over paid leading lady whose name the execs “hang their hats on”...some up-start, love interest with photshop worthy abs and an odd resemblance of a younger and less crazy Tom Cruise....and of course, all the typical LOVE cliches thrown in as the plot drags the audience through multiple redefinitions of true love.
Somewhere in the rising action of this film, my wife of 8 years leans in to me and says, “That’s not True Love. True Love is waking you with a poke in the middle of the night to say that the dog needs to go out to poop.”
And you know what? She’s right - True Love is all those little things that can sometimes go unnoticed. No one is going to write a script about the misadventures of potty training a new puppy and I doubt Hollywood would have any interest in the night Michele and I then spent together on Monday but they should.
Late Monday night I saw True Love. Being the voice of reason, Michele carted me off to the Emergency Room in Mora where somewhere in the wee hours of the night a surgeon cut into and took out a part of my innards that I no longer needed. Making the decision to not let me tough it out - that’s True Love. As if she were my biographer, Michele routinely answered the necessary pre-op medical questions the nurses asked. True Love. When I was told to prep for surgery and put on my gown, Michele loved me enough to ask the nurse if she meant that the boxers had to go too. Post-Op and without a minute of sleep, Michele carried on a conversation with me as the sun approached the horizon. Under anesthesia, I recall none of the conversation but it makes me feel so good to listen to her retell her side of the ordeal. True Love.
Love Is.... that little cartoon strip that I sometimes clip out of the newspaper but you know what else Love is???
Love is... my cell phone ringing non-stop as friends and family continue to check on my progress. (I’m doing O.K. - just feel like that guy from Spaceballs after the Alien does it’s little song and dance out of his abdomen.)
Love is... when my retired buddy calls me midday and says he’s delivering lunch within the half hour.
Love is... the stock pile of PowerAde that Michele picked up for me before heading to Grandma’s in Bismark.
Love is... knowing that my kids are in capable hands and receiving oodles of attention, staying with the Johnsons while I rest and recover at home.
You know what??? Let me tell you something else... I saw True Love again tonight.
Knowing that rest without responsibility will get me back on the Up and Up a lot faster, my wife arranged for Emma and Logan to stay with Miss Jennine and her family for a couple of days. It would be easier for me to heal alone while she was out of town.
My two youngest have assimilated into the Johnson clan with ease. Each one of the Johnson children is so wonderful in their own special way, it just melts my heart knowing that the Kirby kids are loved in that house just the same. One would think that with the shear size of their family that it might be easy to just slip through the cracks...go unnoticed... but it doesn’t happen.
I am in pain. Have been off and on since surgery. I left the house for the first time today to go to the Post Office. That hurt. Tonight Emma had her 1st Grade Musical performance at the school. No matter the pain, I was not going to miss the Barnyard Moosical. Jennine said that she would be willing to get Emma up to the school and I challenged myself to test my pain threshold and meet them there. With rain falling and the parking lot full, I winced and walked my way into the gym. What I saw next filled my heart... Made me forget all of my pain... Made me realize again what good friendship is... Made me redefine True Love.
I expected to see the Halo Queen there. She’s the perfect mix of June Cleaver and Sarah Connor. My boy, Logan sat comfortably on her lap as the two of them made for a Norman Rockwell moment. I’m telling you, Jennine was put on this Earth to make children happy, to raise good kids. Seeing her bask in the glow of an Elementary musical is what I expected. What I didn’t expect was too see every other member of the Johnson family there in support of my little 1st grade piglet. Oh, maybe I thought Elly would tag along being as she’s adopted Emma as her unofficial little sister/make-up and nails test model. Maybe I figured little Nathaneal might be there too in support of his Mom and my Logan but I didn’t expect to see the Big Brothers Johnson. Teenagers completely capable of taking care of themselves could have easily talked their parents out of attending some silly childish song and dance. Dudes don’t need to be seen out and about taking in the performance arts of 6 year olds. But these jackwagons weren’t only there, they were happily there. Smiles on their faces. Waving at my daughter. Making small talk with the crowd. Halo Queen sometimes calls him KevKev. The engine on his car hasn’t even had time to cool from his Freshman year of college and KevKev is home for the summer break, celebrating by taking in a 1st grade program. And there sat the Prop Man too! Pater Familias, Darren Johnson, presided over his whole flock and proudly told passers by that he no longer had children of 1st grade age but was there to watch a friend’s kid. Surely there was a hockey playoff game to watch (yeah right) or a leaky faucet to fix somewhere but NO... they were all there.
There to make my daughter feel LOVED. My tummy don’t hurt no more gang. My hearts too full.
Ma-thaneal, you rock. EllyMNOP - you’re the best. Isaiah, getting big dude. Logan, you know which muscle is strongest. Dan, you have a heart of gold. Kevin, I’m proud of you. Thanks Prop Man. Thanks Halo Queen.
Thanks Michele.
Somewhere in the rising action of this film, my wife of 8 years leans in to me and says, “That’s not True Love. True Love is waking you with a poke in the middle of the night to say that the dog needs to go out to poop.”
And you know what? She’s right - True Love is all those little things that can sometimes go unnoticed. No one is going to write a script about the misadventures of potty training a new puppy and I doubt Hollywood would have any interest in the night Michele and I then spent together on Monday but they should.
Late Monday night I saw True Love. Being the voice of reason, Michele carted me off to the Emergency Room in Mora where somewhere in the wee hours of the night a surgeon cut into and took out a part of my innards that I no longer needed. Making the decision to not let me tough it out - that’s True Love. As if she were my biographer, Michele routinely answered the necessary pre-op medical questions the nurses asked. True Love. When I was told to prep for surgery and put on my gown, Michele loved me enough to ask the nurse if she meant that the boxers had to go too. Post-Op and without a minute of sleep, Michele carried on a conversation with me as the sun approached the horizon. Under anesthesia, I recall none of the conversation but it makes me feel so good to listen to her retell her side of the ordeal. True Love.
Love Is.... that little cartoon strip that I sometimes clip out of the newspaper but you know what else Love is???
Love is... my cell phone ringing non-stop as friends and family continue to check on my progress. (I’m doing O.K. - just feel like that guy from Spaceballs after the Alien does it’s little song and dance out of his abdomen.)
Love is... when my retired buddy calls me midday and says he’s delivering lunch within the half hour.
Love is... the stock pile of PowerAde that Michele picked up for me before heading to Grandma’s in Bismark.
Love is... knowing that my kids are in capable hands and receiving oodles of attention, staying with the Johnsons while I rest and recover at home.
You know what??? Let me tell you something else... I saw True Love again tonight.
Knowing that rest without responsibility will get me back on the Up and Up a lot faster, my wife arranged for Emma and Logan to stay with Miss Jennine and her family for a couple of days. It would be easier for me to heal alone while she was out of town.
My two youngest have assimilated into the Johnson clan with ease. Each one of the Johnson children is so wonderful in their own special way, it just melts my heart knowing that the Kirby kids are loved in that house just the same. One would think that with the shear size of their family that it might be easy to just slip through the cracks...go unnoticed... but it doesn’t happen.
I am in pain. Have been off and on since surgery. I left the house for the first time today to go to the Post Office. That hurt. Tonight Emma had her 1st Grade Musical performance at the school. No matter the pain, I was not going to miss the Barnyard Moosical. Jennine said that she would be willing to get Emma up to the school and I challenged myself to test my pain threshold and meet them there. With rain falling and the parking lot full, I winced and walked my way into the gym. What I saw next filled my heart... Made me forget all of my pain... Made me realize again what good friendship is... Made me redefine True Love.
I expected to see the Halo Queen there. She’s the perfect mix of June Cleaver and Sarah Connor. My boy, Logan sat comfortably on her lap as the two of them made for a Norman Rockwell moment. I’m telling you, Jennine was put on this Earth to make children happy, to raise good kids. Seeing her bask in the glow of an Elementary musical is what I expected. What I didn’t expect was too see every other member of the Johnson family there in support of my little 1st grade piglet. Oh, maybe I thought Elly would tag along being as she’s adopted Emma as her unofficial little sister/make-up and nails test model. Maybe I figured little Nathaneal might be there too in support of his Mom and my Logan but I didn’t expect to see the Big Brothers Johnson. Teenagers completely capable of taking care of themselves could have easily talked their parents out of attending some silly childish song and dance. Dudes don’t need to be seen out and about taking in the performance arts of 6 year olds. But these jackwagons weren’t only there, they were happily there. Smiles on their faces. Waving at my daughter. Making small talk with the crowd. Halo Queen sometimes calls him KevKev. The engine on his car hasn’t even had time to cool from his Freshman year of college and KevKev is home for the summer break, celebrating by taking in a 1st grade program. And there sat the Prop Man too! Pater Familias, Darren Johnson, presided over his whole flock and proudly told passers by that he no longer had children of 1st grade age but was there to watch a friend’s kid. Surely there was a hockey playoff game to watch (yeah right) or a leaky faucet to fix somewhere but NO... they were all there.
There to make my daughter feel LOVED. My tummy don’t hurt no more gang. My hearts too full.
Ma-thaneal, you rock. EllyMNOP - you’re the best. Isaiah, getting big dude. Logan, you know which muscle is strongest. Dan, you have a heart of gold. Kevin, I’m proud of you. Thanks Prop Man. Thanks Halo Queen.
Thanks Michele.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Failure Drill - 2 & 1...
3 times... I say "just 3 times" but in reality those 3 times scared the livin' sh*t outta me. All 3 times actually happened in Mogadishu, Somalia. Although our mission in Kuwait carried some danger, not one knee knocking moment came from my 2 separate times in that Middle Eastern sandbox. All I remember Kuwait as was a chance to get off the ship - play some desert football - have a couple of hooch races - dig a few fighting holes and sit and wait. No biggie, really. But the Mog... that place was legit.
Small arms fire came from the vicinity of the West Gate on the first night that my fireteam was on patrol. MY fireteam. Our assigned area. Shots fired. "F**K"!
Another night we were awaken by our platoon commander during our 4 hour "off rotation". Word had come down that a crowd was gathering in the streets outside of the UN compound. Given orders to expediently dress in full riot gear, adrenaline began to surge through every inch of every Marine I made eye contact with. We trained for months on riot control tactics. I felt a world of responsibility rush over me as one of only a few Marines actually carrying a firearm in to the fight. I was tasked with providing firepower cover to my brothers who would go in to "battle" with their weapons slung across their backs - riot batons at hand - me and my shotgun would stand as their first real line of defense. We loaded the AAVs and idled toward the streets of Mogadishu - outside of the protection of our secured port. The hard to define "enemy" crawled back into their holes and we went back to bed.
Time # 3 started out as a seemingly harmless assignment presiding over the whole Mogadishu sea port up on the hill at Post 45. The view of the rising sun over the Indian Ocean burned an impression on my mind that will last a lifetime. Knowing this Kodak moment may never come again, myself and 3 other Marines left the cover of our sandbag bunker and posed for a few quick "happy snappys". I don't remember who the Marine was that took those pictures for us but every time I look at them I am immediately reminded of the fractions of a second it took for us knuckleheads to scurry for cover as someone started taking "pot-shots" at us from afar.
I am not a war hardened Marine. I can not imagine some of the sh*t my fellow "devil dogs" have lived and died through in their centuries of service. However, I do know that at 19 years of age I felt 10 feet tall and bullet proof - indestructible - probably why I shrugged off those 3 times as "good sh*t" - what didn't kill me only made me stronger, right?
I can also tell you with all honesty that back then I often tried to see into my own future. Tried to see what my life would be like 10, 15, 25 years from those boyish days in the Corps. Back then, I couldn't have dreamed it would be like this.
I love my life. I love my wife. I love my children. I love my dogs - goldfish too. I love my town and all the fish in the lake. I love sitting on a stubble field chasing spring turkeys. I love patrolling the deck of the Rush City Aquatic Center. I love when the dew from the grass on an August morning soaks my sneakers before football practice ever begins. I am a happy man and I love this country.
And sooooo... as news hit late Sunday night that our Commander in Chief - no matter your Political persuasion - wanted to speak to us...as a good Marine, I listened. I listened as President Obama reported that America's #1 most wanted terrorist had taken his final breath. Our hunt for the leader of al Qa'ida was through. The mastermind behind some of the worst terrorist attacks on US citizens had finally "paid the piper". As the President spoke, a world of emotions poured over me. I relived that crisp fall September 11th morning of my fist year as a teacher. I was taken back to those moments of walking 11 year old kids that I had just met, through the worldly impact that what we were witnessing live on the classroom TVs would have on each one of us. Mr. Obama continued and I listened while remembering the frantic need that September night to hold the woman I loved, and would later marry, and her 4 year old son.
As I sat in the recliner last Sunday night thinking about all of the bad in the world, upstairs my two youngest children rested -safely - snug in their bed, oblivious to the evil and the news. I prayed while the President wrapped it up. I scoured Facebook to see how the world wide web would react. My two dogs periodically awoke to check on me. I flipped through a few channels to see more reactions and privately fought back tears. I knew people would soon take to the streets. Revelers they called them. I was proud to be an American too. But I think inside I knew that this moment in history should transcend any nationalism or patriotism some skinny college kid may be feeling while he rushed towards the White House or Ground Zero, iPhone in hand.
As Facebook 'blew up" with personal posts from friends and family that I care deeply about, I wished that the news was taken with a bit more quiet dignity. I understood the level of hatred that this one person had caused with his anti- American doctrine. I count my own tears among the millions that have been shed during this war on terror and I assure you... I am not a hippie... I am not a babbling baby either. The "war on terror" is justified. It is not over. And because of that I could not celebrate. Americans are still serving abroad - standing a post in some foreign land protecting us from that "hard to define" enemy. Now much later in their careers, Marines that I previously served with will continue to be called to do their duty. Again. Kids that have sat in my classroom or ran sprints on my football field now wear flak jackets and carry M16s so that someone else doesn't have to. These young men and women provide a blanket of freedom that allows the masses to flood those streets I watched fill Sunday night. To me, the news of bin Laden's death would hopefully serve to boost troop morale... to somehow show those that have voluntarily served, that their work has not been done in vain.
Now 35 years old - 10 years in to a teaching career - head football coach - family man with a gorgeous wife and 3 wonderful kids that light up my life... I listened, watched and remembered... I am still that 19 year old Jarhead - taking fire in a foreign land...
1 Corrinthians 15:58 "Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain."
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son.
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us.
Semper Fidelis
Small arms fire came from the vicinity of the West Gate on the first night that my fireteam was on patrol. MY fireteam. Our assigned area. Shots fired. "F**K"!
Another night we were awaken by our platoon commander during our 4 hour "off rotation". Word had come down that a crowd was gathering in the streets outside of the UN compound. Given orders to expediently dress in full riot gear, adrenaline began to surge through every inch of every Marine I made eye contact with. We trained for months on riot control tactics. I felt a world of responsibility rush over me as one of only a few Marines actually carrying a firearm in to the fight. I was tasked with providing firepower cover to my brothers who would go in to "battle" with their weapons slung across their backs - riot batons at hand - me and my shotgun would stand as their first real line of defense. We loaded the AAVs and idled toward the streets of Mogadishu - outside of the protection of our secured port. The hard to define "enemy" crawled back into their holes and we went back to bed.
Time # 3 started out as a seemingly harmless assignment presiding over the whole Mogadishu sea port up on the hill at Post 45. The view of the rising sun over the Indian Ocean burned an impression on my mind that will last a lifetime. Knowing this Kodak moment may never come again, myself and 3 other Marines left the cover of our sandbag bunker and posed for a few quick "happy snappys". I don't remember who the Marine was that took those pictures for us but every time I look at them I am immediately reminded of the fractions of a second it took for us knuckleheads to scurry for cover as someone started taking "pot-shots" at us from afar.
I am not a war hardened Marine. I can not imagine some of the sh*t my fellow "devil dogs" have lived and died through in their centuries of service. However, I do know that at 19 years of age I felt 10 feet tall and bullet proof - indestructible - probably why I shrugged off those 3 times as "good sh*t" - what didn't kill me only made me stronger, right?
I can also tell you with all honesty that back then I often tried to see into my own future. Tried to see what my life would be like 10, 15, 25 years from those boyish days in the Corps. Back then, I couldn't have dreamed it would be like this.
I love my life. I love my wife. I love my children. I love my dogs - goldfish too. I love my town and all the fish in the lake. I love sitting on a stubble field chasing spring turkeys. I love patrolling the deck of the Rush City Aquatic Center. I love when the dew from the grass on an August morning soaks my sneakers before football practice ever begins. I am a happy man and I love this country.
And sooooo... as news hit late Sunday night that our Commander in Chief - no matter your Political persuasion - wanted to speak to us...as a good Marine, I listened. I listened as President Obama reported that America's #1 most wanted terrorist had taken his final breath. Our hunt for the leader of al Qa'ida was through. The mastermind behind some of the worst terrorist attacks on US citizens had finally "paid the piper". As the President spoke, a world of emotions poured over me. I relived that crisp fall September 11th morning of my fist year as a teacher. I was taken back to those moments of walking 11 year old kids that I had just met, through the worldly impact that what we were witnessing live on the classroom TVs would have on each one of us. Mr. Obama continued and I listened while remembering the frantic need that September night to hold the woman I loved, and would later marry, and her 4 year old son.
As I sat in the recliner last Sunday night thinking about all of the bad in the world, upstairs my two youngest children rested -safely - snug in their bed, oblivious to the evil and the news. I prayed while the President wrapped it up. I scoured Facebook to see how the world wide web would react. My two dogs periodically awoke to check on me. I flipped through a few channels to see more reactions and privately fought back tears. I knew people would soon take to the streets. Revelers they called them. I was proud to be an American too. But I think inside I knew that this moment in history should transcend any nationalism or patriotism some skinny college kid may be feeling while he rushed towards the White House or Ground Zero, iPhone in hand.
As Facebook 'blew up" with personal posts from friends and family that I care deeply about, I wished that the news was taken with a bit more quiet dignity. I understood the level of hatred that this one person had caused with his anti- American doctrine. I count my own tears among the millions that have been shed during this war on terror and I assure you... I am not a hippie... I am not a babbling baby either. The "war on terror" is justified. It is not over. And because of that I could not celebrate. Americans are still serving abroad - standing a post in some foreign land protecting us from that "hard to define" enemy. Now much later in their careers, Marines that I previously served with will continue to be called to do their duty. Again. Kids that have sat in my classroom or ran sprints on my football field now wear flak jackets and carry M16s so that someone else doesn't have to. These young men and women provide a blanket of freedom that allows the masses to flood those streets I watched fill Sunday night. To me, the news of bin Laden's death would hopefully serve to boost troop morale... to somehow show those that have voluntarily served, that their work has not been done in vain.
Now 35 years old - 10 years in to a teaching career - head football coach - family man with a gorgeous wife and 3 wonderful kids that light up my life... I listened, watched and remembered... I am still that 19 year old Jarhead - taking fire in a foreign land...
1 Corrinthians 15:58 "Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain."
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son.
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us.
Semper Fidelis
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Sick days are better with a puppy!
Last week, Logan was sick and had a day at home with Daddy and the dogs.
I love that my kids are all growing up with the love and attention of dogs!
They love Raider and he loves them, don't worry.....they still think Gunner is top notch too!
I don't know how long to call Raider a puppy....when we got him he weighed 25 pounds. As of this week, he weighed in at 42 pounds! He's an eating machine!
But, he has brought much joy and kisses to our lives.
Even if he wants to get up at 6am everyday and is the Tasmanian devil first thing in the morning!
Monday, May 2, 2011
Easter fun.
I will have to admit that Easter isn't one of my holidays. I tend to forget to put out decorations and usually end up buying Easter Bunny stuff the week of. With that being said, it should become one of my favorites because I always enjoy the day......
Friday night we did a little egg coloring..
Even the teenager had fun.
Everyone in deep concentration.........nice look Tyler. :)
Logan working hard on his creation.
Tyler modeling his BYU egg.
Tyler fell in love this year with college basketball player Jimmer Fredette...he even made an egg for him.
Easter morning!
Raider helping Emma look at her basket.
(On a side note-look at what I have to deal with every morning....look at Emma's hair!)
Logan, as cute as can be!
So happy for peeps. Funny thing is that they still haven't eaten them yet.
Emma is happy too.....look at that hair!
After church, time for the egg hunt. Teenage Tyler and Gunner were moving slow this morning.
But not Logan, he was in high gear~!
The group making it's way around the house.
Happy Easter to you all!
Let's hope Spring is on it's way~!
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