Happy Thanksgiving!

Last year we decided to end the mandatory turkey feast. We grilled steaks and brats instead. This year we're joining a few friends for a traditional dinner, which is fine with us since we don't have to cook a turkey or deal with the moutainous leftovers.

Honestly, Thanksgiving Day in general annoys me. I don't enjoy football, and while I do enjoy eating, gorging myself isn't all that fun. I suppose the only good thing is being forced to verbalize my blessings. In my frantic day-to-day, stressed out life, I very often forget to stop and reflect. So what am I thankful for?

* Cable:
Without it, I wouldn't enjoy emailing (my main connection to the outside world) nor would I be able to use Kids on
Demand to entertain my children while emailing.

* My kids (even though chasing them is the main source of my exhaustion, I sure love 'em!):
Sydney--beautiful, intelligent, compassionate, loving--all this in spite of me.
Bryce--daring, creative, vibrant, sensitive-- just an all-around great kid.
Bryan--outspoken (with a limited English vocabulary), cuddly, independent, jovial--gotta love his hugs and his laughter.
Brady--not-so-innocent, trusting, energetic, bright--what a way to see the world!

* Tylenol, Ibuprofen & Caffeine:
How else do you cure migraines and total exhaustion without a prescription?

* My husband:
I couldn't ask for a better friend. He's honest and hard-working, and he puts up with my control-freak personality. Of
course that means I have to put up with his artist's temperament in return.

* A steady paycheck & insurance:
Things we didn't really have before Army life--and luxuries that keep us where we are. Especially with 4 kids who (with
their dad's help) consume about 20 boxes of cereal and 15 gallons of milk a month. Then we have those dreaded doctor's
visits, immunizations, eye exams, dental appointments, $600,000 hospital stays...

* Military communities:
You won't find a tighter-knit non-biological family anywhere. And no one understands the stresses being a military wife
brings better than another military wife.

* Spell check:
Love to write. Hate to spell.

* Nigel & Samwyze:
Probably two of the most useless guard dogs ever, but the kids love them. OK, so Sam's a full-bred lab--not a guardian
breed. But what's German-shepherd-mix Nigel's excuse? Oh well. What would I do with all the free time if I didn't have to
constantly mop up water, hair, and dirt?

* My family:
I am blessed with wonderful parents, parents-in-law, siblings, siblings-in-law, three nephews, and a niece. Not to mention all of the wonderful friends I have who are close enough to be family.

* Drive-thrus and pizza delivery:
I'm exhausted, remember?

* Swiffer Wet Jet, Mr. Clean's Magic Eraser, and Greased Lightning:
Remember the kids & dogs? Imagine them with crayons...

* Mercy:
I have learned that without God's love & grace, life would be miserable. I see His hand everywhere, even when I'm trying
to ignore it. His strength has given us hope during some incredible trials. His love has calmed us when we've wanted to
give up. And his grace has reminded us that no matter what, He's beside us, ready to help, forgive, and heal.

I truly hope you have (or had) a peaceful Thanksgiving, with or without turkey, taking time to reflect on your blessings. Maybe write yourself a note to do so more often during the year. I'm going to mark my calendar right now...

Weekend Projects

Barry finally got a 4-day weekend OFF! He spent most of his time catching up on his favorite on-line game and spending time with the kids. He even let me escape for a few hours with Rebecca! A few things around here needed to be done, and only he could do them. Like putting together an entertainment armoire for the living room (for which we've been waiting over a year--it took us that long to buy one!). And painting the old TV holder-upper (aka dresser) to go in the boys' room. We had a pretty good weekend!

As many of you know, Barry's brother, Bryan, is currently deployed to Iraq with his unit. If you'd like to send a care package to Bryan for his soldiers, email me saying you'd like his address. You can also visit the website that Mo set up for Maddy. Bryan's posted a few pictures of his new environment as well as a few updates. You can leave a comment for Bryan & Mo, too.

Thanks!




Boys! All 4 of them wanted to know what was inside the box. Later, Bryce said he just wanted the empty box to be his race car.





Bryan wants to do whatever Barry's doing. So while assembling the new entertainment center, Barry had to fight Bryan for the tools. Eventually we smartened up and gave Bryan the plastic kids' tools.





Barry took Syd & Bryce to the kids' workshop at Lowe's on Saturday. Bryce said he was going to show Barry the blow-up Jimmie Johnson car that has Santa & the elves working as a pit crew. Barry was able to talk Bryce into building something, though, and said both kids worked hard. They had a lot of fun!





Sydney and Bryce show off their Veterans' Day napkin holders. Great job!






With the new entertainment center housing the TV, Bryce finally gets his own dresser! Barry let him choose a race car design (the boys' room is decorated with NASCAR, of course), so Bryce decided on Jeff Gordon. The boys' other dresser is painted to look like a tool chest. Barry didn't want any help, but Bryan kept saying, "Pain', Da!" Who could resist that?

I'll post a picture of the finished product!

Broken Eggs, Not Broken Spirits

Life is more challenging than usual when Barry's gone. I find myself incredibly stressed out and exhausted from days with little adult conversation and even less help. Yesterday was one of those days (sorry for the cliche), and by bedtime, I was wondering why I had kids.

After dealing with the back talk and bad attitudes, I decided today would be different. I'd yelled more than I like to yesterday, so today would be a day of harsh action discipline. Time out. No TV. No sleepover. No fun.

Then Bryce ran into the living room in a panic. "Look what the babies are doing!" I followed him into the kitchen where I found Bryan and Brady happily crushing egg shells and playing in the goo. Lovely, I thought, egg yolk paintings. Haven't I talked myself out of harming my kids enough? Why does God torment me?

"Bryan!" I said firmly (not yelling, by the way). He and Brady both looked up with the goofiest grins. My heart didn't melt (yet another cliche), but any frustration I felt started fading.

I grabbed Brady (whose entire front was covered in egg gut) by the back of his sleeper and carried him to the bathroom. Bryan followed, and the two played in bubbles, probably thinking I was rewarding them for their kitchen creativity.

After the babies were rediapered, I returned to assess the damage in the kitchen. What I found surprised me: Syd was on her hands and knees, spoons in hand, scooping up egg shells and whatever yolk & white she could, then dumping the salmonella-carrying raw food into the sink.

Wow.

"It was mine and Brycey's plan," she said. "I wanted to help clean up the mess, even though I didn't make it. Bryce helped, too. I like to help you."

Again, wow.

I helped her finish then mopped the floor. "Thank you, Syd. I love you!" I hugged her then instructed her to wash her hands well. For once, she didn't argue.

God knew what I needed--a huge reminder that my kids are good kids. Now, if I could just get an 8-hour nap.....






Don't Bryan & Brady look so proud?



Sydney used spoons to pick up egg shells. She didn't want to touch anything gross.

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!

Sailing, Sailing Over the Sky So Blue...

Cool Beans!! sailing through the air.
















Jeanne, Taylor w/Bryan, Olen, Scarlet Rose, Sydney, and Bryce in front of the rising purple bean.





One great thing about the Southwest is the variety of hobbies available. One of the PICU nurses we met while Bryan was sick 2 years ago is a balloonist. Jeanne "Bean" Gartner is originally from Pittsburgh (she threw a great Super Bowl party earlier this year--in true Steeler style). Before she worked at the hospital where Bryan spent 5 weeks of his life, she traveled the world on a cruise ship, working as the ship's nurse. Through family connections she ended up here, then chose to stay because she fell in love with ballooning. (Well, I'm sure falling in love with her boyfriend was a reason, too.)

A few weeks after Bryan was released from the hospital, Jeanne invited Barry, Sydney, my dad, and me to crew and receive a free flight. Of course we accepted! We rode in Cool Beans! the first. We enjoyed seeing the mountains and colors of the desert and Rio Grande valley from the air. Since then we've tried to attend relatively local balloon festivals and have developed a great appreciation of all the work that goes into ballooning.

After Cool Beans! died earlier this year, Jeanne and Barney (Jeanne's boyfriend) started the process of designing and purchasing another balloon. We were able to see the artist's rendition of the new balloon, but until tonight hadn't seen the actual thing. Work schedules, vacations, and monsoon season interrupted a few launch attempts. So I was thrilled when Jeanne called and asked us to come see Cool Beans!! the second's local debut. She was taking up a woman for her 90th birthday--a present from this brave woman's family. They wanted to be flying over the mountains as the sun set. What a present! We were at Rebecca's house swimming, so Rebecca and I dried off the kids and headed to the launch site. (Rebecca & the kids moved back last week--and their house has an in-ground pool!)

Watching a crew work together to assemble and inflate a balloon is incredible. The kids loved seeing the colored beans rise from the ground, and Jeanne enjoyed explaining how balloons work with wind currents, temperatures, and fuel burners. (Yea! Balloons and science--perfect spontaneous field trip opportunity!) Bryce told me he's ready for his first balloon flight. I think he needs to grow a few more inches, but we may have to work something out for his next birthday.

We are very thankful for the wonderful people God's placed in our lives. Jeanne's one of them. She took great care of Bryan in the PICU and has become a close family friend. If we hadn't met her, we couldn't truly appreciate the desert scenery that surrounds us. Thank you, Jeanne & Barney--and Cool Beans!!

Then Breaks the Mourning

Today is the first official day of the 2006 mourning period. For those of you not living in the desert, that means it's the first day of fall. Autumn is my favorite season: the chilly air that slaps you awake, the crunchy leaves that talk to you, the smell of harvest that promises seasonal goodies are coming soon. I have looked forward to this change of scenery since I was little.

Now I live in an area of the country that experiences only two seasons: hot summer and not-so-hot summer.

Here, the patchy grass that didn't grow until the monsoon season started last month is still yellowish green. The leaves on the ground are also dull green, too lazy to even attempt what autumn dictates. Granted the mercury registers 20 degrees cooler than a month and a half ago, and the sun is setting earlier in the evening. But we'll still wear shorts through Thanksgiving--when the dull-green leaves are still on the trees and the temps are in the 70s. The kids were excited about fall and rushed to the window this morning, only to look out and see nothing different. (We haven't discussed how seasons work yet.) For this to upset me is one thing; to have it depress my children is another.

Hence we are creating our own autumn. We keep our central air set at 69 so we can wrap up in blankets and drink hot cocoa or cider. Last Wednesday I took homemade pumpkin pie and apple cake to share with my Bible study. They all laughed when I announced I was making my own fall since it refused to come to me. And after the kids' sad day of searching for organic orange, red, and yellow foliage, they colored pictures of scarecrows and pumpkins. We also booked a trip to an out-of-state pumpkin patch/corn maze. And a few years ago, my mother-in-law sent us a package of fabric fall-colored leaves which Sydney & I used to decorate our bookshelves. Syd wanted it to really look like fall inside, so following her direction, we alternated both size and color. ("We have to make a pattern!" she insisted, since, of course, nature always follows a pattern.)

Then we made buckeye candy--not that the kids know what buckeyes are. But who cares? Chocolate and peanut butter...yummy fun! Bryan (2) kept dipping his peanut butter ball in the chocolate after licking off the previous layer. Fortunately I had the foresight to let him dip last. Bryce (4) and Sydney (7-1/2) did excellent jobs making their own. Brady (10 mos), however, was quite upset that he couldn't enjoy the day's edible project. Sorry, buddy. We'll share some at Christmas!

So if you're mourning the loss of summer, remember us transplanted Midwesterners. Six autumns without the benefits haven't diminished our pain.

A Map, Anyone?

My first day here over 5 years ago, I needed to buy groceries. Barry had been living on moldy bread and peanut butter. As yummy as that sounded, I declined his offer of a sandwich. So braving the 110-degree July heat, Mom & I set off to find the post grocery store, aka the commissary. But I didn't know only military ID holders could enter. Poor Mom sat in the car for an hour while I fumbled down the aisles and waited in the endless checkout line. Between the heat and the pressure of shopping in a foreign environment, I was frazzled. The nice bagger-man offered to take my groceries to my car. After he loaded them into my trunk, he informed me I was to pay him a tip. I had no cash and was dumbfounded by the 40-ish man's blatant demand for reciprocation. Mom handed him a dollar, and we drove away.

But I didn't realize that I needed a map to get back to our duplex. We drove around for an hour or so before I found a familiar road. Direction-challenged on Indiana's straight, N-S & E-W roads, streets that follow a curving mountain range finished the destruction of my inner compass. I managed to laugh with Barry about the day's events, but that one experience frustrated me enough to hang up my car keys. I didn't go anywhere by myself for 5 months--and then only because Kari flew down for a visit and offered to get lost with me.

Since then I've lived here by myself during deployment and FTXs (field training exercises). Thanks to new friends and trusty online map services, I've managed to find my way to most places in this border city. I've even given a few tours. No longer an ignoramus to the inner-workings of military shopping, I'm even grateful for the tips-only baggers at the commissary. They're truly lifesavers when I'm wrestling to keep 4 kids from putting every piece of check-out candy on the conveyer belt.

Ah, that wonderful thing known as change. I've managed to adjust without wanting to end my life. Of course now that I'm embracing military life in the desert, we'll probably get orders and have to start all over. :)