Just Peachy

As you know our life is consumed by baseball.  Starting Friday night we had something to do with baseball for 24 hours strait.  When baseball gets all consuming like that I will sometimes let Molly stay home with the boy that does not have a game.  Friday I decided to take everybody to Ernie's game.  It was a beautiful day and Molly and Henry had not been outside all day.  Henry complained because he wanted to stay home and watch TV.  All the more reason to go to the game.  Once we get there he stops complaining because there is a group of  kids to play with.

Henry and this group of boys run around and play like boys should.  It is fun to watch them make up games and rules and just be kids in general.  On Friday Henry and one little boy were taking a snack break from all the games.  They were sitting far enough away from me that I could hear their conversation, but they did not realize it.  I overheard one of the cutest conversations ever!  It went something like this:  Friend says to Henry, "Do you go to church?"  Henry replies, "Yeah."  Now before I go on you need to know that this friend is about six years old and is black.  Friend says, "Are there mostly white people at you church?"  Henry replies again, "Yeah."   "There is mostly black people at my church," Friend questions, "I wonder why that is?"  Henry looks at his friend and shrugs, "I don't know, maybe there are more white people than black people?"  His friend looks at him incredulously and says, "No way man, look around you there are black people, white people, peach people.  I like peaches.  Do you like peaches?"  "I love peaches!" Henry yells.  And with that they jumped up and continued their game of zombie tag. 

Just for the record, Ernie lost the game Friday night, but won Saturday morning.  Henry lost his game Saturday night.  Baseball pictures were taken outside for the first time in a couple of years.  Glad that weekend is over.

Harder than it looks.

Trying to update a blog is harder than it should be.  Everything seems so inconsequential.  We are pretty boring people.  Well except when the kids get going.   Then I don't want to admit all the weird stuff that goes on at our house.

It has been a busy couple of days.  It is only going to get busier.  Baseball is in full swing.  I love that sport, but there is only so much little league one person can take.  I think by Saturday night I will be full up.

We are heading to bed.  Kids are tired and cranky.  It does not make for a pleasant evening.  Somehow when the boys get tired they also get wild.  Then I get to listen to Molly yell at them to settle down.  Oh joy.

Well off to bed I go.


P.S.  After I finished this last night I logged off and headed upstairs.  The boys were running and jumping.  When they heard me coming upstairs it got quiet and Henry said, "Here comes the boss!"  I have trained them well.

Oh Henry!

  In an effort to have more harmony in our home, I told the kids that they were only to say nice things to one another. 

I just heard an exchange between Henry and Molly that would not fall into the nice category.  I reminded them, "Only say nice things to each other."  To which Henry replied, "That was yesterday."  I think it may take some time for this lesson to sink in.

Magic Switch

I have heard horror stories about children and bedtimes.  Children kicking, screaming, crying and fighting bedtime.  I never understood them.  At our house, I would tell the kids, "Time for bed."  Tuck them in, and turn off the light.  I did not see them again until morning.  Of course I could hear the boys playing-for hours.  It got so bad that while we lived in Fort Lewis we would turn the power off in the back of the house.  It was the only way those two would stop playing.  We would let them play for a little bit and then we'd holler, "We are flipping the magic switch!"  When it was pitch black they would finally settle down.  That was when the boys were two and three.  They are now nine and 11.  I sent them to bed an hour ago.  I can still hear them upstairs.  I may need to go find the magic switch for this house. 

Trial Run

Stuart is away for two weeks at a class, so I thought I would try to update him on what is going on here.

Nothing.

I am getting ready to put the boys to bed.  I am going to have to pull them away from of game of Dogs: Shark Attack. 

Tomorrow will be more productive.  The first day you are gone always seems to be taken as a vacation day.  Back to real life.

Elisa

My Husband's a Soldier?

When we lived in St. Louis, Stuart marched with a unit in the Veteran's Day parade. As he marched past us I pointed him out to the kids and we cheered. Henry stood there and looked at me with his sweet little face--he was just astonished. He then said to me in the most perplexed voice, "My dad's a soldier?" Henry had spent his entire young life watching his dad go to work, and come home, dressed in his uniform, but up until that moment he had never seen his dad act like a soldier. (Or at least what a four year old thought a soldier did.)

That is kind of how I am feeling right about now. Stuart is preparing to deploy to Afghanistan, and I am only beginning to understand what this means for our family. I have spent so many years telling everyone how crazy it is that he has never deployed. It feels bizarre to think that this is something I can no longer share with people in amazement. I have joined the ranks of millions of other military and civilian spouses who stay home and support their loved ones.

Having said all that we are all excited about this new adventure.  Stuart is excited to go and serve his country.  I am glad that we are at a place that we all feel confident that this is where we should be right now.
Our family is surrounded by people who love us and who have all been where we are now.  This is a great comfort to both Stuart and myself as he leaves.   

For the next six months or so we will use this blog to keep Stuart updated on our day to day life.  I will now ask for patience with me, because my proofreader will no longer be reading over my shoulder.  So you see, I am looking for the silver lining in losing my best friend for the rest of the year.

Air Head

So, Henry just held a flashlight to his ear and asked us if we could see light.
We said yes. "Coooool" was his reply. He then tried it on his dad. No comment on what we saw.