Birthday Boys!

We celebrated two birthdays this month! Bryce turned 5 on the 17th, and Bryan turned 3 on the 24th. We're still amazed by how quickly the kids are growing up. Bryan says new words every day--a huge blessing since he didn't even try to speak for so long. Of course now he just tells everyone like it is. :)

For Bryce's birthday, we had homemade waffles and syrup for breakfast. Later, Barry took him go-carting and picked up Bryce's supper pick, pizza, of course. He wanted Thomas birthday cake, so I used the train cake pan to make an engine and two coaches. Bryce closely supervised the coloring of the icing. "Perfect!" he exclaimed when I finally got it right. He said he had a great birthday. We had fun, too, making the day special for him.

On Bryan's birthday, we visited the fire station a few blocks from our house. I'd called ahead to make arrangements and to let them know it was his birthday. Bryan's hero is Fireman Sam, so we thought a visit to some real firemen would be appropriate. After our visit, we went to McDonald's so the kids could run and slide, then back home for cake and presents. Bryan had a good day, and everyone enjoyed the fire staton trip.

Here are the boys' days in pictures. I'm also including a few non-birthday photos because, well, my kids are cute and do the funniest things. :)


Brady and Sam are buddies. Actually, Sam is friends with anyone who has food. Brady decided Sam needed to be fork-fed the rest of my tuna salad. And Sam loved the attention.





So the kids aren't allowed to eat strawberries anywhere in the house except the table, right? Well, Bryan, in his little defiant attitude, decided that wasn't OK. He stole the whole quart of strawberries out of the fridge and invited Brady to join him outside. I found them sitting under the tree eating "bawberries." We now have a chain lock on the top of the back door, and I'm trying to find a fridge lock that Bryan can't figure out. But at least he chose a healthy item to swipe, even if I didn't get my strawberry shortcake.




From Bryce's birthday:

Finally! The much-coveted collapsing Sodor suspension bridge! Bryce had been begging for this for over a year. He was so excited to finally have it!






Bryce had to set up his new destinations immediately. Toby's windmill (from Nana & Papaw) and the collapsing Sodor suspension bridge were first. He added the new oil depot and barrel loader later (from GranMary & Papa Rod). And his new trains, Ben & Bill and the fog cars, enjoyed the improved track design.





Even clothes are a great gift when they're Thomas-inspired! Thanks, GranMary & Papa Rod!





Bryce loved his Thomas cake!




From Bryan's birthday:


Brady followed the other kids into the cab, circus peanut in hand.





At first, Bryan didn't want to get in the truck or look at the helmets. But once he got in and tried on a helmet, we couldn't get him out. He played with the visor and situated the heavy headgear so it sat comfortably. It took us a good 10 minutes to get him out! He even tried to buckle himself in!





Bryan wanted to touch everything. The chief commented that if the equipment hadn't been bolted down, Bryan would've pulled it out. Amazing how he knew our kids so well. :) Later he told us that Bryan reminded him of his son, now grown and following in his dad's footsteps. He'd just joined the department. Bryan could choose a worse vocation. :)





"Look, Mama! A hose!" Bryan pulled and pulled but couldn't get the hose to budge. Eventually he gave up.





The chief on duty gave each of the kids a plastic fireman hat with their name on it.





All the kids loved the fire station. Sydney made the firemen open all the storage doors, and she pointed out what things were. "That's the jaws of life, just like Fireman Sam has! That's...." Bryce, though, was more of a critic. He looked at the engine and said, "Are you sure you shined this? It's not shiny enough." Poor firemen! One said, "Well, we shine the engine every morning. It's evening now." The other said, "Ah, a critic." Our Thomas knowledge is showing itself in new ways every day. Brady climbed in the truck (or tried to) and found everything fascinating. Of course anything with buttons and lights is cool to him. We were, for the record, invited to come back any time we wanted. Bryan said all night, "I don' wan' 'o go home. I wan' go 'ire 'tashun!" We think he would've moved in had he been invited.





Bryan loves his Fireman Sam doll! Thanks, Nana & Papaw! (They had a friend pick up the gifts in the UK.) He loves the book, Fireman Sam to the Rescue, too. In the book, Bella, the Italian restraunt owner, says, "Mama mia!" Bryan says that now, too, when he gets frustrated. I wish I could record it for you to hear.





Fireman Sam toys and Jay Jay buildings were Bryan's dream presents. GrandMary & Papa Rod ordered the Fireman Sam toys from the UK. He plays with them all day long. Every day. And no one else is allowed to play with Fireman Sam and his truck (named Jupiter)--they have to play with Nurse Flood and the ambulance. Tom and the helicopter and Penny, Fireman Sam's firefighter friend, are off limits, too. We'll be ordering more toys from that UK site for Christmas since Fireman Sam isn't the 'thing' in the US. He also liked getting the Big Hanger for Jay Jay's big plane friends. Jay Jay's control tower talks. Bryan kept turning the crank, saying, "Benda Boo!" I think Brenda Blue is his first crush. Hannah Montana is his second, but that's another post.




Bryan loved how his fire truck birthday cake looked. But he's not much of a cake eater--more of a cake admirer. The other kids ate some for him, though.

Ah, espresso!

You Are an Espresso

At your best, you are: straight shooting, ambitious, and energetic At your worst, you are: anxious and high strung You drink coffee when: anytime you're not sleeping Your caffeine addiction level: high

What Kind of Coffee Are You?

I hate moving

What a lot for a military wife.

We've been at this duty station for 6 years next week. Six long years. Not bad. Just long. And we're now settling into our third house. Each house has been an upgrade, from two bedrooms, to three, and now to 4 (with a shade tree and rock wall fence!). I'm grateful for the housing, but moving can be quite messy.

Today we (and by 'we,' I mean 'I') cleared our old quarters. Although we paid for a cleaning team to come in and ready the house for military-standard inspection, we had many things to clean ourselves. Try doing that with 4 kids undoing everything you've just done. Quite a challenge. Add to that a staff duty assignment (24-hr duty), which means we lost 2 days of cleaning time. Then Barry flew out to Buffalo to spend time with his brother who is on R&R (2-week vacation from Iraq). What do you get? Frustration. Exhaustion. And a mental breakdown.

[In Barry's defense, our inspection was supposed to be last Friday. And he'd rescheduled the inspection because of the aforementioned mental breakdown. (Mine.) He wasn't planning to leave me alone to clear quarters.]

A friend of mine going through the same thing, Kari D., prayed for me last night. Not that I wasn't praying myself. I definitely related to Paul when in 2 Corinthians 12, he talks about pleading with God to remove a thorn from his life. Well, I knew this thorn couldn't be extracted. I'd have to go through it, like Paul did, whatever his affliction may have been. But I doubt it was clearing military housing.

The inspection terrified me. One of the cleaning points I knew I'd failed involved removing marks from the walls. Ten Mr. Clean Magic Erasers hadn't been able to dissolve the colored wax my art-loving children had imposed on them. I'd tried to cover up the crayon marks using other means, but the touch-up paint given to me by the leasing office was the wrong color. The walls looked like a graffiti job gone bad. I was so obsessed with making it right that I'd spent $20 on two different cans of paint--neither of which matched even though I'd taken paint samples from the walls and had the colors professionally mixed. (Side note: Coloring on the walls is now an offense of the highest order resulting in swift discipline and harsh consequences. Already I'm hearing cries of, "Where are my crayons?")

Had we done enough? What stupid blemish would we be charged for? Would the inspector be nice or mean? We've been through this before and failed miserably. That resulted in fees taken from Barry's pay.

When the kids and I arrived at the old house, a paint van was parked in the driveway. The paint contractor was entering the living room. "I've already started patching holes," he told me.

He hadn't stolen my Windex, so I didn't care.

I walked through the house to make sure we hadn't missed anything and noticed all my sweeping and mopping had been undone. In fact, you couldn't tell I'd done anything. But the contractor did pull the stove out, under which I found beloved Dale Jr. and Lightning McQueen cars.

The dirt pit (a.k.a. yard) wasn't up to standards. The dogs had run a ditch along the fence line essentially building a tiny mountain at the edge of the yard. My weedeater broke yesterday, so the weeds weren't completely cut, either. I decided I wouldn't touch it unless the inspector threatened to add charges to our $200 cleaning bill.

The inspector knocked on the door.

After I greeted her, I said, "I'm very frustrated."

"Really? Why?"

Then I relayed the fact that the painters had already been in the quarters and that the touch-up paint provided to me was beige--the walls are definitely eggshell/soft/antique white. Or maybe a soft yellow.

"Don't worry about the walls. And since the painters have already been in the quarters, I can't hold you responsible for anything. Just sign here."

Wow. I turned over the keys and met her back at the leasing office to complete our BAH recon (basic allowance for housing refund, basically).

So our prayers were answered. Kari had specifically prayed something would happen to make this task easy for me. And I'd prayed that God would calm my detail-obsessed mind and show me how to rest. I've been shown yet again that God's grace is sufficient. And that He can use disobedient paint contractors to ease the pain of military families attempting to clear quarters.

Our next projected move is in 2 years--to a different duty station. I think we'll let the Army hire movers to pack & drive our household goods. We'll definitely hire a cleaning team. And I'll finish the organization and storage systems I started constructing last summer. Regardless, it'll be a challenge.

Relocating is exciting. New homes can be wonderful upgrades.

But I'll never love moving.