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 18, 2011
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.
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.
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?
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.
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.
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.
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.
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