December 27, 2011

Christmas is *sigh* over


With all the buildup, planning, shopping, wrapping, traveling, anticipation, excitement, stress, exhaustion, and joy, Christmas is *snap* over just like that.

It was nice waking up in my childhood home and coming down to this first thing Christmas morning:


It was a good scene to see after 3,000 miles on the road and more energy devoted to that and all the other details of our move than to Christmas.

Now, in the post-holiday lull, I'm trying to figure out how to slow time down and savor every moment I can with my family.

I'll probably see ya'all in the new year.











December 22, 2011

Dadalogue on the Road: Day 5

Thankfully, this was an easy day.  The night, once again, not so much.

We all slept in (including Timothy!), had a leisurely morning at the hotel, and got on the road by 11. We were in Cincinnati before dinner. Originally we had planned to make it all the way from Nashville to Grandma's house outside of Cleveland, but after several long days in the car another 12 hours in the car would have made us go completely nuts.

So with the extra day, it's only a four-hour drive before my grandma will get to see her great grandkids. She hasn't seen Grace since she was 6 months old, and she's never met Timothy, so I'm looking forward to that.

So about last night. It must be hotel rooms and the fact we are all in the same space that has made Grace a terror at night recently. It's late. We all want to sleep. We start our quiet time night routine, and she decides to freak out. It's a good thing this hotel was practically deserted because if anyone else heard her crying and screaming it probably would've warranted a visit from the cops - or worse - child protective services.

However, the only crime committed was Daddy was reading and singing to her, not Mommy. All she wanted was Mommy. Until Mommy held her. Then all she wanted was Daddy. We couldn't win, but we did eventually get her somewhat consoled, so we put her in her pack and play.

Bad idea. The screaming came back with a vengeance. Since there really was no one else around we decided to let her cry it out. Another bad idea. She has more endurance than we do plus it woke Timothy up. Twenty minutes later, into our bed she came. Finally, completely exhausted, she passed out between us.

As parents, we've talked a lot about how we'd handle tantrums and fussiness. We wouldn't be like other parents and give in to our child's demands. No way our child was getting what she wanted acting like that. Talk is cheap though. We've never had those hypothetical discussions at 11 o'clock at night with a screaming child, and all we want is sleep. That child could have a flying pony if she asked for it.

Don't get me wrong. Neither of us want to tolerate bad behavior or encourage bad habits, but there is a certain amount of compromise you have to make in unusual situations - like 4 people and a dog in a tiny hotel room. Sure kid, if it'll make you happy, snuggle in bed with Mommy and Daddy.

Where this all gets difficult is in public. Like I said, we don't want to encourage or allow tantrums. And when our child acts out, we want to stop it. However, both of us are so nervous to do anything other than talk calmly to Grace in those situations. This doesn't work because reasoning with a two-year-old, for those of you without a two-year-old, is impossible.

I'm not saying we want to spank. I'm saying we want to use a voice above a conversational volume with words that show displeasure with the behavior. But where's the line? Where's the balance? You don't want to overdo it and draw attention to your parenting. Having to defend your own behavior as a parent is not something I want to do. There are a lot of overly sensitive people out there and I may cross a line in their mind before I ever get close to my own. It's a whole new layer to parenting that's been added in the last generation or so.

But, we'll figure it out. And I'm sure our kids will turn out just fine, even as proud owners of flying ponies.

Well, these "On the Road" posts were supposed to be a travel log of sorts, and it seems that I've gone and detoured way off the highway. I'll be back in a couple days with a wrap up of days 5 and 6.

December 20, 2011

Dadalogue on the Road: Day 4

Two impressions about Arkansas:
It has nice roads and a weird fashion sense.

The highways were the quietest and smoothest I've seen on this trip. Road quality, especially after logging 2,000 miles in four days, is a big deal to me.

As for the fashion, I've never been somewhere where hunting camouflage is worn as a normal, daily article of clothing. Uggs and Realtree don't mix. Unless you live in Arkansas. I saw a lot of people in camouflage and not a lot of gun racks. Make fun of my polo shirts all you want, but suiting up like your going duck hunting and going anywhere else instead is just plain weird.

The kids did great today. After yesterday's outbursts and lack of sleep they were too tired to be bad. This worked out for me; I got a good hundred and fifty miles in before they started to stir. But even when both kids were awake, they seemed happy. It could be that they've resigned themselves to the reality that they're not going anywhere. The minivan is now their home, so they believe.

Actually, that's probably not too far from the truth. Besides overnights, we've been living out of it. It's our kitchen, living room, and changing station on wheels. Today certainly proved that to me. Like when I took Grace out of her car seat and noticed that she had amassed more varieties of food than a Chinese lunch buffet. I pulled out Cheerios, veggie sticks, mashed fruits, a tator tot, and the remnants of one of those veggie pouches just to name a few. We've eaten a lot of meals on the road.

With all this eating means our fair share of diaper changes. And when one doesn't exist at one of our rest stops, the driver seat has doubled as the changing station. Today I had the honor and privilege of cleaning up one of Timothy's trademark diaper blowouts. This one required about 50 wipes and a full wardrobe change. That's difficult enough as is, but as I'm trying to undress and clean him he's grabbing a hold of the steering wheel and pulling himself up. Poop was everywhere and all he wanted to do was drive.

I finally did get him cleaned up and was finishing putting him in new clothes when it suddenly started to rain. Hard. I'm standing outside the van, he's still squirming on the seat. I quickly jumped in, butt towards the steering wheel, hunched over him trying to get his onesie on. This didn't work out too well for me. But instead of helping, the Wife was laughing hysterically.

Yeah. Real funny.

That was the highlight of her day.

My highlight was our lunch stop in Memphis. We stopped at Tom's BBQ which was featured on Food Network a couple of times. I was really impressed. The food was amazing, as I expected it to be, but the service was what made it really special to me. 

When we showed up, Tom was coming in too. He held the door and thanked us for coming as we struggled with the kids and their dining accessories (portable highchair, diaper bag, Grace's blanket). Then, as I was paying, the cashier asked if this was our first time at Tom's. It was, so she told us she'd send out a special treat to our table. The special treat was a good-sized portion of their dry-rubbed ribs. Then, as we were leaving, we saw Tom outside again. I rolled down my window to tell him how much we enjoyed the meal. He asked us where we were headed, and told us the best way to get back to I-40. But the topper was that he then walked out into the middle of the very busy street to block oncoming traffic so we could get to the other side of the road. A pit master, gentleman, and traffic cop. I can't wait to go back.

The rest of the drive was uneventful, except for more rain. We're in Nashville now, which I'm pretty excited about. Tomorrow's drive is pretty short, so maybe we'll have a chance to do a little exploring. Or maybe I'll just sleep in.

Cincinnati bound ...

December 19, 2011

Dadalogue on the Road: Day 3

The kids finally snapped. I was hoping we'd have perfect little angels the whole way, but keeping them cooped up in car seats has finally done them in. Grace showed her ugly side - throwing a tantrum in McDonald's for lunch and a mini tantrum at the restaurant we ate at for dinner. We were that family today.

I know it's probably not as big of a deal as I'm making it out to be. As my level-headed wife points out, we'll never see those people again, our kids are weary from traveling, and they were nice enough to take a credit card to pay for all the damages.

Okay, I'm kidding on that last part. There were no damages, except for maybe my pride. I just want my two-year-old to instinctively understand how to behave in public. Pshaw to actually teaching her these things. My lack of tolerance for her behavior probably mostly stems from my exhaustion of being on the road and not so much on her actual actions.

In the minivan, things weren't much better than they were in the restaurants. Sure, the two little ones were restrained, but their crying in stereo was the perfect accompaniment to the rain from downpour I drove through the entire day. All 560 miles was done with my wipers whipping. The Wife, amazing as usual, sat in the cramped micro-seat between the two little ones - holding a teether for Timothy with one hand while reading a book to Grace with the other. She handled the situation and got me a few hours of quiet so I could concentrate on the road.

The only bright side of the day was that at least the rain wasn't the blizzard I was trying to out-drive. We left at 6:30 this morning so we wouldn't get stuck in this. We got several calls of concern wondering if we were some of those stranded motorists.

No. We're fine. I don't even think I could fathom what being stranded with Jekyll and Hyde would be like.

But, after a long day on the road, we're safely in a comfortable hotel room. Timothy is finally sleeping. He seems to be recovering well from the day's travels. For Grace, however, the night is young. She's free from her restraints. It may be 10 o'clock, but like a college freshman, that's when the night begins. It's time to party!

Pray for patience for the parents.

December 18, 2011

Dadalogue on the Road: Day 2

So here we are in ... Tucumcari, New Mexico.

I never heard of it either. The signs advertising this place would have you believe it's more than the Day's Inn, Pizza Hut and Shell station. Don't believe the hype.

Actually, that's all I've seen all day - hype. There are thousands of billboards all along I-40 hyping Navajo trinkets and rest stops disguised as "world famous" attractions. We could've stayed at "a motel Bob Hope once stayed at!" or experienced "the cleanest restroom facilities on I-40!" Once you actually pass these advertised spots, most are nothing more than a boarded up, dilapidated building. There's certainly no retail boon in New Mexico.

All those billboards are a shame for another reason too: They ruin views of the amazing vistas I imagine Wile E. Coyote to be lurking around in (I half expected to see him pull up beside us on an Acme rocket trying to chase down the Roadrunner).

Once again, the kids did pretty well for being cooped up in car seats all day. It certainly makes the day easier. It makes my stories lack the adventure and near-tragedy you all want, but I'll take that over eight hours of screaming any day.

We actually only had one moment of drama, and it was at the beginning of the drive.

It was snowing when we started out, and we thought we'd be stuck in that all day. Snow started to accumulate on the road, but by 30 minutes into the drive, the skies cleared and it was smooth sailing for us.

Tomorrow, we'll pass through the top part of Texas and stay over in Oklahoma. Until then ...

December 17, 2011

Dadalogue on the Road: Day 1

So, I was just standing outside in Flagstaff, Arizona waiting for our dog to pee. There's snow on the ground here. About four inches. I didn't know it snowed in Arizona. That's why I was in flip flops.

Lesson one of traveling cross country in winter: check the weather before leaving. Or at least have a selection of footwear handy and not buried deep inside a fully packed minivan.

I also learned that in Arizona people will do the "Adopt a Highway" program, and instead of promoting their business, they'll put a personal message like "Suzie, I will love u 4ever. - Bill" Who thinks that's romantic?

"Happy anniversary baby! I got you a trash-ridden three-mile stretch of I-10. Now go clean it."

People are weird.

Anywho, we're 500 miles into our trek across America, and so far there's nothing too significant to report. Both kids did well for being cooped up in car seats for 8 hours. Grace was the hardest to handle once we got to the hotel, really. She was full of the energy she couldn't release all day. Everything, especially the phone, was a toy.  She's pulled just about every tissue out of the dispenser. She jumped on the bed. She drew on the takeout menu. Timothy just chilled, as usual.

Tomorrow we'll make it as far as New Mexico. The Wife told me the town, but I forget how she pronounced it.

One final thought: Does anyone else easily get irritated prior to traveling? I know it's something I've got to work on. It must be the stress of making sure the car is packed (it's like playing level 500 on Tetris), nothing is forgotten (something usually is), and the house is properly secured (did we close the garage?) that shortens my fuse. My wife is a patient person to put up with pre-trip Brian. If I had to deal with me, I'd be pretty ticked. Once we're on the road though, I usually calm down.

Well, I'm off to bed. We'll be barreling east down the road early in the morning.

December 16, 2011

Home

I guess you could say this Christmas we are "undecorating."

You see, today is the last day we'll be together as a family in the place we've called home for the last year and a half. Tomorrow, we start the trek back East. The Wife and kids will be staying with her parents while I'm deployed.

The reality of all this is finally sinking in.

Finding this house was a true blessing. When we first moved out here we were living in a dingy hotel room, sharing a wall with the room that housed the hotel's industrial sheet washers. We were desperate to get out of there, but nothing we looked at even remotely fit our needs. Houses were either way too small, too rundown, or too expensive to be suitable. We were about to start looking at places an hour or more away from my job when we decided to check this one last place out.

The Filipino lady who greeted us was sweet and warm. She was just as excited to show us the place as we were to look. Four bedrooms with a beautiful kitchen 20 minutes from work and right at our budget. When she found out I was a Marine she started to cry. Her husband, who died a few years ago, was a retired Marine. He had told her that if she were to ever rent the place to rent it to a Marine or a missionary.  God had answered many prayers that morning.

After looking at the place, the Wife and I exchanged nods and said we'd take it. Then, in the middle of the kitchen, our new landlord asked if we'd pray with her. That was the start of many wonderful memories here.

Even though we are close to 3,000 miles away from most of our family (except the Wife's sister and her two children), most of those memories involved our family visiting. We had Becky's aunt and uncle and their three kids around for Grace's first birthday. Her parents were here a couple times. My parents came a couple times. My sister, brother-in-law and their two kids came to stay for a bit.

We welcomed our second child into the world here. Well, we welcomed at the hospital technically, but we brought him back here. I'll always remember watching the Wife do Wii yoga in the living room at nine months pregnant trying to start labor. That didn't work, but I'll also always remember the friends who came here to help us out at 3 in the morning when it was go time.

I'll always remember this year's Thanksgiving and what a blessing and a blast it was.

I'll always remember how much fun it was to splash in the pool with Grace and our niece and nephew. Until we moved here, I'd never seen two kids spend nearly eight straight hours in a pool.

I'll always remember cool nights in a hot tub.

I'll always remember snuggling with my wife and both of us talking in amazement how blessed we are.

I'll always remember my nightly bedtime routine with Grace.

I'll always remember finally feeling grown up because we no longer lived in an apartment. I jumped for joy at the sight of a garage. The Wife jumped for joy at a - no kidding - full-sized washer and dryer.

I'll always remember my first (and so far only) attempt at being handy. I built a set of shelves to go in our living room. They took me four weeks to make.

I'll always remember running up the Marine Corps and American flags up our flagpole. That may seem minor to some people, but that made me feel proud on so many levels.

I'll always remember Grace taking her first steps here.

I'll always remember rocking Timothy to sleep in his room.

I'll always remember rolling around on the floor with Grace while the Wife and Timothy looked on - all of us laughing.

Yes, a lot has happened here in the last year and a half. It's all those things - and so many more - that make me sentimental about not living here anymore.

Moving has to be the most difficult part of being in the military. I long for the day that we can call a place home and mean it. Where our roots can grow deep, the memories would fill volumes, and the door is always open to those we love.

But that's not our reality yet, and I'm okay with that. I also realize that a house is just wood and drywall. A home is so much more.

It's wherever me, my wife, and children are together.  

December 12, 2011

What, me worry?

One of my favorite guilty pleasures as a child was probably MAD magazine. The magazine probably was a little too old for me, and I'm not entirely sure my parents knew I read it, but I laughed at the goofy artwork and the dark humor of strips like Spy vs. Spy. I also remember the weird looking kid that always appeared in the magazine, usually on the cover - Alfred E. Neuman and his signature phrase, "What, me worry?"

Yes.

I worry. I worry a lot. Probably more than is healthy. And this pending deployment and all that it involves has pegged my worry meter. I worry about everything from the cross-country trip we're about to make to move my wife and kids back East for the year to finances to the stresses that work has placed on me.

It's funny how God intercedes though. He doesn't just *poof* make all the worry go away, but He certainly has a way of reminding me who's really boss. The title of yesterday's sermon - truly at a moment I felt completely overwhelmed - was "Time to Let Go of Worry." (You'll be able to listen to it here once it's posted.)

Pastor Chico delivered this sermon at just the right time, and it was exactly what I needed to here.

"Do not worry about anything, but pray and ask God for everything you need, always giving thanks." - Philippians 4:6

Easier said than done, especially for a pathological worrier like me. By worrying I am essentially telling God I don't trust His promises. Ouch. For little ol' me to tell the Creator I don't trust him is pretty bold.


Pastor Chico then laid out the reasons why we shouldn't worry:
- It's unnatural (We don't worry about the right things anyway)
- It's unhelpful (Nothing happens when you worry)
- It's unnecessary (God has already promised to supply all our needs)
- It's unchristian (According to one commentator the pastor quoted, "Worry is practical atheism")

Instead, our pastor suggested we put God first before all else (Matt. 6:33), don't live in the past or future (Matt. 6:34), and take all worries to God (Matt. 6:30).

I have precious few days left with my family before I depart. I could fill them with worry and stress and a sour attitude about everything that's going on. That would be unfortunate - I'd be ruining time that I could be making wonderful memories with my wife and children.

Thank you God for that message at church yesterday.

My worries are Yours.

December 7, 2011

Say cheese!

I thought my wife's idea of getting a family portrait done was great. She'd have something to frame, and I'd have something to carry with me in my pocket in Afghanistan. HeartsApart.org, a non-profit that connects servicemembers with photographers, would do this for free for us too. Very cool.

The concept of getting our family picture taken seemed easy too: Dress up, pose, smile, click, and done. Five minutes. Beautiful photo, home for football.

The deceiving thing about a photo, however, is that is shows you, at most, 1/60 of a second of time. You really have no idea what's going on between those split seconds. Smiles - or what looks like smiles - could really be the reaction from you kid kicking you in the crotch.

It seemed that neither one of the kids wanted a happy family moment to happen for us. Our perfect little angles must have been possessed for the hour and a half we were at Lauren's house. Grace would not sit still, Timothy cried. If we got one to cooperate for a moment, the other would blow up. I have never bribed one child as much as I did during this shoot. I think I may have even promised a pony in exchange for three seconds of calmness.

Every chance she got, Grace would tear away from me or the wife and run into another room. I'd get up and have to go chase her down. She was mule kicking me the whole way back to the set. I was getting hot from repeating this exercise a dozen times. I hope you can Photoshop out sweat.

If Grace wasn't running into other rooms, she was up in Lauren's face begging to see the camera. Actually grabbing for it too. I know cameras and I was praying she didn't break this one. I don't know how I'd feel if this free photo shoot would have set me back a couple grand.

Timothy just was not happy in any position. All he probably wanted to do was sleep, and we were bouncing him, pulling his hands out of his mouth, swaying, and tickling to get him to smile - everything but leaving him alone. Poor kid.

Lauren was an absolute saint through all this. She is a young military wife and professional photographer who volunteered to work with HeartsApart. Her and her husband don't have any kids yet, but she was perfect with them. Much more patient than me or my wife when Grace went exploring around the electronics array near their TV, or Timothy was wailing instead of smiling. And she had just enough tricks up her sleeve to get smiles from both kids.

When all of us adults reached complete exhaustion we threw in the towel. What was on that camera card was all Lauren was going to have to work with. However, she showed us a few frames that she captured, and they made my heart smile.

I really do have a beautiful family - even when our kids' attitudes aren't the best I feel so blessed to be their dad. And now I'll have a picture to remind me every day that I'm gone of how wonderful they are.

December 4, 2011

Mini-traditions

I think one of my favorite things about being a dad is being able to create and do special mini-traditions and routines with the kids.

For instance my daughter can't go to bed without "show." That's where I swing her back and forth and then into her crib while saying "One for the money. Two for the show. Three to get ready. And four to go!" My dad did it do me as a kid, but beyond that, I don't know any one else who does.

And that's what I love about it. It's unique, it's personal, and it's a moment that guarantees a smile from both of us - no matter how the rest of day went. I also think that moments like "show" are a part of shaping our kid's personalities. We like to have fun around here, and anywhere we can interject an element of fun, we do!

Timothy likes when I lift him up over my head and say hi to him. He laughs and smiles at "Pat-a-Cake" every time. Each round of "Ring around the Rosie" always ends with tickling on the floor. Fist bumps follow high-fives. When football comes on TV, we all throw are hands up in the air and yell "Touchdown!" But my favorite routine, and it's fairly new, is prayers before bed time.

Grace will sit in my lap and fold her little hands and bow her head while we pray. I say the prayer (for now) but she always ends with the "Amen." It's so cute it melts my heart every time.

December 1, 2011

Free legal advice

I'm no lawyer, but I promise that if you're a parent of young children this is legal advice you should heed:

1) Never, I repeat, NEVER take tired children to your lawyer's office when you go to sign your will. They will disrupt the entire legal system and drive you to the edge of crazy.

2) Bribing a toddler with "be quite and sit down or else your brother gets everything" doesn't work. They don't understand wills. However, giving your toddler a cell phone to play with solves all problems.