Creative Napping and Other Artistic Expressions

Red velvet cake doesn't last long in this house (not just any, but my grandma Buck's family recipe--it's the best!). Bryan and Barry are especially fond of it. Brady's curious, but since he really can't have chocolate yet, we've not let him try it. Bryan might have felt sorry enough for Brady to share his precious dessert (unlikely since like his daddy, he doesn't like to share his cake). Or Brady grew tired of looking sad & pathetic to get a bite and stole a handful from Bryan's bowl. Now we have another red velvet cake addict in the family!






We don't have a formal sandbox (the yard is almost all sand anyway), so I bought a large plastic box and filled it with oatmeal. I thought the kids could have fun digging, scooping, and pouring without finding any surprises--you know, scorpions, black widow spiders, dog do-do. Barry let the kids go crazy, burying the kitchen/dining room with oatmeal dust. (He cleaned it up--voluntarily!) The kids had fun, even if Brady begged to be let out.





When I insisted on quiet time Sunday, Bryce informed me he would make himself a new bed. Legos covered his bedroom floor, and blankets filled his Lego wagon. I didn't think much of it until I walked in to check on him. You can't tell from the angle, but I found him sleeping in his wagon.

Unconditional Welcome

One church we attended down here decided to have an outdoors service one 4th of July. The pulpit area was set up in front of the playground; bleachers and lawnchairs under tents about 20 feet away faced the pulpit. The children's service had been cancelled, so Barry didn't have any children's worship responsibilites. I was working in the nursery that day, so Barry went to the service by himself. About half an hour into the service, Barry came into the nursery.

"Something wrong?" I asked.

Barry was clearly upset. "The pastor told the parents to get their kids off the playground equipment because they were disrupting the service. No one could hear those kids. Besides, they were 4 and 5 years old. We're done here."

A few months later, we left. A few months after that, we started attending HOPE Chapel on post.

But to broaden our horizons, we attended a service at a highly-recommended church about 20 minutes off post. The children's ministry is great; one entire wing of the building is designated for kids. This area is divided into classrooms and nursery areas. The largest section (about the size of a small basketball court) is decorated with a large pirate ship, complete with a snack bar and game room. Syd and Bryce loved it, of course. Bryan, though, wasn't feeling it.

So we thought we'd take him and Brady into the service with us. As we were walking toward the sanctuary, a nice man offered to help us find the appropriate nursery rooms.

"Oh, they're not ready for that," Barry told him.

The man stopped, then said, "Well, here's the door to the section of the sanctuary where you can sit with them. If they get too loud, you can bring them in this room." He pointed to a room next to the sanctuary.

We managed to say thanks as we made our way to the roped off far-left back corner of the worship area designated for parents with kids. Browsing the bulletin, we found a statement asking us to remain in this section out of respect for others.

I took a deep breath, determined not to let this bother me. This church has a great reputation for incorporating the elements of worship we'd been part of in college. We wanted to enjoy this service, walk away with something meaningful. So no bad attitudes from us! The live band and worship team were incredible. Music is a large part of our lives, and Bryan loved clapping his hands and bouncing to the rhythm. Brady stared wide-eyed at the people sitting around us, flirting with a cute little girl and her mom.

After the drama presentation and immediately before the pastor took the podium, an announcement came over the speakers: "Welcome to [our church]. Please turn off all cell phones and pagers during the service. If you have small children, please take them to the nursery area so all can enjoy the service. If you choose not to, please remain in the designated area of the sanctuary. A crying room is available for loud children. And remember, the service can be viewed and heard through closed-circuit monitors in the hall."

Eventually both of us ended up in the hall, comforting our stressed-out, unwelcome children. Oh, yeah: the closed-circuit monitors were nowhere to be found. We missed the sermon because Bryan wanted to tell us the colors of his crayons and Brady wanted to babble. We were the only ones who could hear them, but for fear of offending the church, we stressed over our kids' normal, happy noises.

On the way home, Syd & Bryce told us about their experience. They loved the pirate ship and the children's program. Could we go back? they wanted to know. Barry and I looked at each other. Then Barry said what both of us had been thinking: "Jesus didn't tell the disciples to take the kids away. Why is family-style worship so not wanted?"

I can certainly understand people being annoyed with obnoxious kids. But isn't a cheery toddler different than a talking teenager? Were our kids disrespectful? Absolutely not: they acted the way babies do. Disrespectful behavior should be dealt with immediately. But this church told us our kids were not welcome in their service regardless of the motives for their noise.

Our chaplain on post said--from the pulpit--to think of chapel as God's living room. "So what if your kids jump on the pews. I don't care if they get away and run down the aisle. Do they want to talk? Fine. Let them! Everyone is welcome. We're family, and kids and their kid noises don't bother me. They shouldn't bother you! Kids are kids, and they are our future. We need to train them, show them, demonstrate worship."

Needless to say, we decided to stay at HOPE Chapel. We'll attend church where kids are unconditionally welcome.


Bryan and Brady share crayons and a large mat board after our Bible story one Sunday.

Pumpkin Carvings

We didn't make it to the Mesilla Valley Maze & Pumpkin Patch. We ran into a huge storm driving to NM last Saturday, so we treated the kids to Wendy's just across the border and turned around. (Ever since Syd's asked if we can go back to New Mexico to get Wendy's.)

So Barry decided to take the kids to the commissary to pick out pumpkins. Bryan chose one half his size, which of course he had to carry around. I wish I'd had the camera! Bryce picked the largest one, and Sydney chose an odd-shaped one because it looked like a head. Brady's helpful older brothers chose one for him. Bryan didn't understand why Brady couldn't carry it. He'd try to pick it up and drag it to Brady, saying, "Baby!" Ah. Such a sweet sentiment.

Even though it was early in the month, Barry helped the kids clean, design, and carve their pumpkins. The unique creations died shortly after, growing their own gray hair and melting into mushy messes. Yuck. Usually our pumpkins last for weeks if not months down here. It's been more humid and a bit cooler than usual. (No complaints from us!) But since Barry should be around later this month, we'll probably try again.





Syd worked very hard to clean out all the pumpkin seeds. She didn't complain because, as she reminded us over and over, she "loves pumpkin seeds!" Then Daddy helped Sydney cut her very own designs out of her pumpkin. I still can't believe she's old enough to use a knife!




Yes, Bryan used a v-shaped cutter--or he tried to. No way he was going to be left out!




Bryce was very proud of his finished product. He didn't cut anything, but he helped scoop the goo out of the pumpkin and supervised Daddy's carving techniques.

Soccer Monkeys

Bryce makes a goal for Coach Judy.




He learns how to throw the ball from the sideline.




Monkey #4 poses for a picture before his big game.


A reluctant Bryce participated in his first soccer game tonight. We put him in the post soccer league for one reason: soccer involves lots and lots of running! Neither Barry nor I have ever played soccer. But it's the thing down here, and the registration fee was reasonable. Before the season started, he was so excited to pick out his blue soccer ball, cleats, and shin guards. He proudly told everyone he was going to play soccer in "Smeptember" and wanted to know why he couldn't wear his cleats in the house. The much anticipated first practice was 3 weeks ago. For some reason, Bryce, who loves to kick things, hasn't been very interested in the game. (Bryan, however, loves to run with the kids and chase the ball!) After 2 practices, Bryce told me to call Ms. Judy (his coach and a family friend) to tell her he'd "just sit on the bench" because he didn't want to play.

So we went to tonight's game fully expecting Bryce to spend all 4 6-minute quarters sitting on the sidelines. Then the unthinkable happened: a little girl fell and decided she didn't want to play. So Judy grabbed Bryce's hand and asked him to 'walk' with her on the field. Once he realized the kids were fighting over possession of a ball, he decided he could play. He did great and almost made a goal. Hopefully next week he'll remember how much fun he had!