Pumpkin Craziness

The holiday craziness has officially begun. For the last few weeks, I have been wearing all my hats at once: Wife, Mom, Teacher, Dance Coach, etc. with probably more than a little "Crazy Woman who needs more caffeine" thrown in there. Consequently, I haven't posted pics in forever on here so I will try to catch up.......These pics are from two Fridays ago.... a day which dawned dark and rainy with the kind of rain that only Florida can bring. I always thought I knew rain, having grown up in the Northwest. Moving here showed me that what I knew about was drizzle. When it rains in Florida, it pours buckets and throws in some rather frightning displays of thunder and lightning for good measure. It is as if Mother Nature feels the need to compensate for all the sunny days by dumping a good 6 months worth of rain in one day. It is truly a spectacular display if you are sitting inside with a good cup of something warm, a good book and some candles. However, if you have to actually venture out in the storm, it pretty much bites the big one.

A Florida storm is enough to put a damper on anyone's day but when you have a day full of outdoor events planned, it quickly catapults an inconvenient day into utter chaos. Friday was a day full of planned outdoor events - a PreK Pumpkin Patch Field Trip for Sam, Jump Rope for Heart Day for the whole school, and Fall Festival for the whole school from 3:00 - 6:00 pm. By late Thursday evening, Jump Rope for Heart had been cancelled, leavign about 800 kids very disappointed and every teacher in the building scrambling for last minute lesson plans on a day that we had planned to not be teaching but chaperoning events. On Friday morning we arrived to hear the news that Fall Festival would not be cancelled but moved indoors, creating massive chaos since we had no "indoor" plan because after all, this is FLORIDA, land of perpetual sunshine where October temps are usually in the high 70's. Dunk tanks and bouncy slides were cancelled in between classes, last minute plans and maps were run to classrooms and announced periodically over the PA system, adding to the general chaos as we tried to teach kids unhappy about being in classrooms instead of on the PE field. I assumed that Sam's field trip was cancelled as well but then got last minute notification that the church was moving the Pumpkin Patch games indoors and the kids were in fact boarding the buses. Duane had also assumed the trip was cancelled and had decided to sleep in on his day off so I had to make a frantic call to him to get dressed and head out to the Pumpkin Patch before Sam became hysterical because her Daddy was supposed to be her "Chipper own" (Chaperone). Utter craziness.

By the end of the day, we seemed to have a plan in place for Fall Festival, which was good since it was set to start at 3:30pm. My dance team girls had 3 booths running and luckily a few of the parents showed up to erect our booths and bouncy castle while I taught. Once the kids were released, I made a mad dash down the hall with my dance team girls carrying Sam and Kaitie. We located our booth and immediately had a line of customers wanting their hair colored (colored hair spray). I spent the next 3 hours manning a bouncy castle, hair color and tattoo (temporary of course) booth, Pom Pom and spirit item booth and 16 hyper middle school girls. The hair color was by far the most popular booth and Duane and the girls got a big kick out of paying my dance team girls to color my hair neon orange, much to my great embarassment. All in all, it was a crazy day but we made a ton of money which we will need to fund our Nationals trip to Orlando this spring.

Next up: Fall Festival for 6th RTB, holiday picture appointment for the girls, prep for the Pep Rally, Jump Rope for Heart makeup day, 6th RTB Annual Haunted Hay Ride, Trick or Treating...........................................

I may need something stronger than coffee soon......

War Weary?

This article was published on CNN.com by a wife whose husband is stationed with the 82nd Airborne at Ft. Bragg, NC. She blogs for the Fayetteville Observer and I think her commentary speaks for many military families. Here's to my Army Wife friends - couldn't make it thru this Army life without amazing women like you! :)

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War Weary
by Rebekah Sanderlin

If the American military went to war and America went shopping, then seven years later the war wages on but America is home from the shopping spree with her credit cards maxed out and her head aching from buyer’s remorse.
The war didn’t change and the fighting force didn’t change, but the people back home are over it. War, it seems, went out of style in 2003.
In the military community we roll our eyes when we hear that Americans are war weary. Just what, we wonder, are you all weary of? Hearing about the war? Seeing stories in the news? Most Americans don’t even know anyone in the military and won’t have any direct contact with the war besides seeing uniformed soldiers in the airport. You all haven’t been asked to do anything more to support this war than sit back and watch as your tax dollars are spent.
To us, civilian complaints about being war weary sound like the gripes of deadbeat dads: It’s a bummer to hear that things are going badly and you’re sick of being asked to pay for it, but you’re not doing any of the real work yourselves. Many of you believe that fighting this war is optional. You seem to think our nation could make everything okay by just sitting this one out.
And, in a way, that reasoning makes sense. Most of you haven’t been on the front lines or on the homefront. You haven’t looked into the eyes of the enemy and the innocents and you haven’t heard gunshots and mortar rounds in the background during a precious-but-short phone call. You haven’t had villagers beg you to stay or to adopt their children. And you haven’t heard your soulmate grapple with dueling guilt: Guilt that he’s leaving his family for so long and guilt that he isn’t deployed more frequently and for longer so that he could do more. You haven’t seen or heard any of this, so how could you possibly understand?
It’s not your fault. Nobody has asked you to do anything. Our leaders didn’t think you would be willing to make real sacrifices, so they never bothered to ask. They let you all think that shopping yourselves into debt was patriotic, that spending yourselves into bankruptcy and foreclosure was enough to keep our nation safe.
You are war weary because futility breeds weariness. When you feel like something is for no good reason and getting nowhere, it’s understandable that you’d be over it. But maybe you wouldn’t be so war weary if you, personally, had a stake in what was happening “over there.”
In the military community, the price tag for this war is much higher but the commitment level is much greater. Our country has not only asked for our tax dollars (and believe me, we’re paying monetarily for this war, too) but for our blood, our family time, our futures, our children’s happiness and our very lives. We have enlisted and reenlisted – and offered our support to our spouses who sign back up - because, soldier and spouse, we know the commitment level of the people who want to kill us and we know the desperate dependence of the people our nation has vowed to protect. We know that we have to be at least as committed as our enemy or our own children will be fighting this same war.
My husband has spent the bulk of our five-and-a-half-year marriage deployed. He’s missed most of our son’s life and our daughter has never even heard his voice – not even in utero. We won’t know for years what the long-term effects of these deployments will be on him, on us and on our kids. Last year he suffered a serious head injury and he’s lost most of the hearing in his right ear, the ear closest to his gun. We don’t know what the long-term effects of his injuries will be, either. This year, on his third deployment to Afghanistan, he missed my father’s death and funeral, our daughter’s birth, our son learning to ride a bike and catching his first fish, and countless other precious moments that cannot be reclaimed. There is no predicting what events he’ll miss in the future.
And we are the lucky ones.
My husband has lost more than 20 friends in this global war on terror and I have an ever-growing group of Army widow friends. They are young and beautiful and many have young children. They are also stunted. They hang around Army towns years after losing their soldiers because they say they don’t fit in anywhere else. They say they can no longer relate to what they see and hear in the civilian world.
They can’t reintegrate into the your world because there the people they meet don’t know what it’s like to sacrifice everything for something intangible. The widows say they don’t feel like they fit in where people don’t know how hard it is to break away from that last hug before a deployment. In the civilian world the widows, like all soldiers and military spouses these days, are treated as oddities, something to marvel or gawk at from a distance. People either fawn over us or try to ignore us. Our presence inspires either adulation or discomfort.
So we hunker down in our military towns, where regular pilgrimages to D.C. to visit loved ones at Arlington and Walter Reed are common. In military towns, we can laugh about all the dust and sand that comes into our homes after a deployment, carted thousands of miles from where it was picked up. We can complain about long lines at the post office during our weekly visits to send care packages. We can vent about news of another deployment, less than a year after the last one. If anyone in America should be war weary, it’s us.
And make no mistake: We are tired. We are stretched thin. Our marriages and our families are collapsing. Our children are emotionally damaged. They act out at school and cry at home. Everyday we wonder if we have the strength for even another day of this. We’re tired from the work, but we’re not weary of the mission.
This war is far from over, that’s something both candidates for the presidency have acknowledged. Whichever man finds himself in the Oval Office come January will be in a position to decide our fates in the military community in a way more personal and immediate than most Americans will experience. The next president will determine how much my husband and I will see each other for the next four years and whether or not he will have the tools and policies he needs when he is in harm’s way. The next president will determine our odds of continuing to be the lucky ones.
This war is far from over – that is an obvious truth in military communities. But our reality seems so very different from yours. For the last seven years our elected officials haven’t thought enough of you to ask you to pitch in. They haven’t, so I will.
My husband and I know that this is not his last deployment and we know that his odds of returning home get worse with each trip. The only way our family and other military families will get a break is if more Americans sign up to join the fight. News reports these days are full of stories of lay-offs and the high cost of health care. Well, guess what? There are no pink slips in the military and our excellent health care system is free.
So sign up. We want you. Your nation wants you. And we in the military community need you. My family deserves a break.

The Great Conversation

Many of you know that we lost a very dear friend of ours about a year and a half ago in Iraq. Darrell and his wife Diana are more like family than friends to us - those rare people who come into your life and effortlessly feel as if they have always been there, as if you have known each other for forever. Darrell was a thinker, a writer, a voracious reader of ideas and a man who sought to understand the world around him and always do right by those whose lives he touched. During his two deployments, he faithfully recorded his thoughts, his feelings, his struggles. He hoped one day to publish a book, to help others understand what it was to be a soldier and a man and how you reconcile your faith with the desparation and violence that becomes par for the course in a land overcome with war. In the midst of it all he somehow found hope and he wanted others to know.

When he died, his father, Darrell Sr., obtained permission to travel to Iraq and visit with Darrell's unit there, to walk where his son had last walked. He compiled all of Darrell's writings - those on his computer, in notes and letters and e-mails home, and the stories that the soldiers who served next to him tell. Darrell Sr. has worked for the last year and a half to complete the book his son dreamed of one day publishing. The book is set to come out in February of 09. It will be called The Great Conversation and can be reserved online at Amazon.com - just search for "Griffin, Darrell." The book details Darrell's experience but also the experiences of all those who served with him. It is the story of the American Soldier - of men and boys from small towns and big cities who leave families and dreams behind to answer a call they may not always understand but feel compelled to commit themselves to. It is their struggles, their triumphs, their love for their families and each other and the hope that allows them to continue and keep their faith despite often desperate conditions. I hope that some of you will reserve the book and read it - not because I think it details the heroic life of a perfect man but because it tells the story of an ordinary man who did extraordinary things for the love of those he left behind and those that stood beside him as well as those he was sent to protect - and because it is the story of a friend. Once I know more about the book tour dates and locations, I will post the info. If you wish to know more about Darrell, just google "SSG. Darrell Griffin" or look for the US News and World Report" special article that appeared in the spring of 07.

Princess Party

While we like to think otherwise, we have recently begun to realize that our social life revolves around Kaiti and Sam's social engagements. Not so long ago our calendars were filled with evening events like dinners and movies with friends. Once the girls came along, the dinners became a little earlier and usually at someone's house to compensate for bedtimes and babies schedules. We still thought we were pretty cool. Sure, we were driving the minivan to our social engagements and arriving with a diaper bag instead of the latest clutch but we were still fairly cool. Somewhere along the way, we became the chaperones instead of the hosts or guests of our social events. Where our calendar once read "Cocktails with the Smiths, 7pm" it now reads "Princess Party at Camden's, 2pm - remember to dress up." And there seems to be no end in sight. For the past two weekends, we have attended birthday parties in the neighborhood and this weekend was no exception. Kaiti and Sam's little friend Camden had a Princess Party that, I must say, rivaled most social events I've been to recently. The girls spent all week anticipating the event and choosing which of their princess finery to wear. After much agonizing over the outfits and liberal application of glitter, we headed down the street with all the other princesses and princes for the royal event.

Kaiti and Sam on their way to the event.

Jasmyn, Camden, Sam, Kaiti

Making Princess Crowns

Jumping Princesses

The neighborhood kids

Mother Nature

...is one tough mother! In the two years that we have lived in the Florida panhandle we have witnessed countless storms. Having lived all my life in the Northwest, I thought I knew storms and rain but believe me, I was wrong. You haven't truly seen a thunder storm until you've lived in Hurricane Country. Okaloosa County is one of the top places in the US for lightning strikes and both Duane and our house have been hit since we have lived here. Luckily, neither hit was too serious but it was enough to remind us of the awesome power of mother nature. Tonight, we are prepping for what might be the biggest show of power we have seen to date. We have managed to avoid any hurricanes while living here but Gustav is on his way and the panhandle is oddly quiet as everyone settles in to await his arrival. The past few days have been filled with warnings and storm tracker alerts. We have gassed our vehicles and beat the shortage - many stations are now out of gas. We have made extra ice to put in the deep freeze in case we lose power. We have stocked batteries and lanterns and flashlights, water and canned spaghettios. We covered our computers and classrooms in plastic on Friday afternoon. We have double checked our alert rosters for the battalion families and reviewed the procedures for hurricane evacuation and tropical storm safety procedures. We are as ready as we can be.

This afternoon, the activity seemed to slow as the sky darkened and people realized that they had done all they could. The local channels have gone to continuous storm reporting - updating the weather and the local warnings as well as giving directions to shelters in outlying states for the areas of Alabama that are being evacuated. We are now officially under a Hurricane Warning with an additional warning of storm surges causing waves in excess of 6 feet. It is thought that Gustav will touch down within 24 hours and luckily, it appears that the panhandle will avoid the worst of it. It seems that we will most likely just get storm surges with high winds, high water, and possible flooding or loss of power. We feel pretty safe out here on Camp - we are further away from the Gulf than the town is. For once, living in the middle of nowhere seems to be paying off. Duane is on his way home from Ft. Benning and I am crossing my fingers that the weather will hold off enough for him to make it home tonight. In any case, I am going to shut the computer down once it starts to storm and keep my fingers crossed that at worst, we will be watching a phenomenal show by flashlight with a cold can of spaghettios. :) Keep all those on the Gulf in your thoughts and prayers as many are evacuating for a second time, preparing for the possibility of losing it all again. It certainly puts life into perspective and reminds us of the incredible power of the creation in which we live.......

Back to School!

This week, Okaloosa County schools headed back to the classroom and our family headed back to school. Kaitlyn is in the 1st grade this year and was over the moon that she has her reading teacher from last year as her 1st grade teacher this year. Samantha is joining Kaitlyn and me at LJPS for the first time in the Pre-K class. She has Ms. Brown and absolutely adores her. Now that Sam is in school, our whole family wears uniforms: Duane his ACU's, me, the LJPS teacher uniform (sooo fond of that navy blue blazer...) and the girls in their LJPS uniforms. It sure makes getting ready easier. It's also a relief to have the girls in the same place. Given the commute off Camp, any drive is a long one so not having to drive to two different schools makes the day so much easier. Hope everyone else is having a great beginning to the school year or an enjoyable last few weeks of summer!

The first day of school

First Dress Uniform Day

The Tooth Fairy visits Rudderville

Kaitlyn has been desperate to lose a tooth all year and a few weeks ago she finally had her first loose tooth. Last Saturday, it popped right out and we went to work preparing for a tooth fairy visit. Kaitlyn put her tooth in special box and wouldn't you know it, the tooth fairy came to visit. She left a special note for Kaitlyn with plenty of tooth fairy dust on it, as well as $2 and a book about the tooth fairy. Kaitlyn was very excited and even wrote a little note back to the tooth fairy. Here is Kaitlyn's new gap toothed smile:

Summer Gymnastics

The girls begged to take gymnastics with their friend Camden this summer at US Gold in FWB. They both did very well and LOVE it so I guess we'll be adding gymnastics to the list of after school lessons this year........

Kaitlyn demonstrating her backbend

Sam at the bars, one of her favorites

Sam and Camden on the rope

Ranger Wives Swamp Walk '08'

Yesterday was Camp Rudder's annual Wives Swamp Walk. Like most battalions in the Army, 6th RTB holds an annual "Jane Wayne" or "GI Jane" day, however you like to refer to it. Generally, this is a day for the wives and families of soldiers fire a few weapons and maybe do an obstacle course or some other "Army" type event that their husbands would normally do. The 6th RTB Wives Swamp Walk puts all other Wives days to shame. After all, this is the hardest stage of Ranger School, the school that turns out the most elite soldiers in the Army so of course our wives are a little tougher - or perhaps just a little crazier.......

We began our day with inprocessing and medical screening in the battalion classroom. This was followed by the Native Reptile briefing so we would know what to watch out for in the Swamp. Do you think I'm kidding? All the snakes used in the briefing were caught locally at Camp Rudder. We then got to see the Reptile Team feed two of our 4 resident alligators, Stumpy and Vincent. Stumpy is a 3 legged female, brought to us several years ago as a rescue animal. Vincent was acquired last year from St. Augustine's alligator reserve as part of a trade. He is rather large at over 12 feet long. Stumpy has just laid eggs and is a little feisty so the feeding was quite a show. We are all excited about the eggs and are hoping for some little Ranger Gators soon.

After the Gator feeding, we loaded onto transport vehicles by company and headed down to Yellow River. Let me just say that "transport vehicle" is a rather generous term that implies safe transport from one destination to the next. I feel truly sorry for the soldiers that are forced to ride in these "vehicles" that consist of nothing more than skinny wooden benches covered by a tarp canopy. My behind has some heinously painful bruises from bumping around on those benches. The obvious lack of shock absorbers didn't help the situation, nor did the driver who appeared rather unconcerned with his erratic swerving and sudden stops that threw several of our passengers to the floor and required a team effort to achieve recovery. Despite our precarious journey, we arrived at the first station in good spirits, ready to conquer our competition. Our firts task was firing weapons. We listned (well, kind of) to the instructions of the RI's (Ranger Instructors) and donned our protective eye wear and ear protection before cheering each other on as we fired the M-4, SAW, and M-240. I must admit, I like firing big guns. I'm not sure what that says about me but I'm not going to dwell on it for too long. :)

After firing some serious guns, we refilled our Camelbaks at the water buffalo, dug through the stacks of MRE's for the least revolting options, picked up our walking sticks and headed down the trail to Yellow River. Did I mention that Bravo Company wives led the way??? We arrived first (of course), staked out our bleacher spots for the water borne operations briefing, and tore into our MRE's. OK, so I had to have Yohanna open the package and show me how to work the heater thingie and still managed to nearly burn the heck out of my hand with it ....but, I got it working and ate a few bites of "Vegetarian Cheese Tortellini in Marinara Sauce" which was surprisingly decent for something that has a shelf life of a million years. Yohanna, our experienced prior Army expert, introduced us all to the delicacy of crackers with Jalepeno Cheese Spread which is also, suprisingly good.

After our culinary adventures, we expertly secured our safety lines and caribiners in preparation for the Rope Bridge crossing. OK, by"expertly secured" I mean Mary's husband Eric (SFC. Salmond to the rest of you) tied them on for us. Hey, we know how to use our resources! ;) The "rope bridge" is not a bridge over the water but a rope strung from bank to bank (tied on trees) that you hook your caribiner to and swim hand over hand across the river. The reason for this is that the current and the weight of your boots and gear would drag you under if you simply tried to swim. Rangers that use the rope bridge are actually carrying several hundred pounds of equipment and weapons in rucksacks so it is a necessary tool for navigating water. I was just carrying the extra pounds that a couple kids add to your hips over the years, but that's challenging enough for me. Needless to say, the Bravo wives were the swiftest swimmers and crossed the river twice with no problem. What can I say, we rocked.

Following the rope bridge crossing, we were given life jackets and a Zodiak boat that we carried to the water. Once every boat was loaded, we took off down the river, rowing with determination. We were just a tad competitive and spent much of our time attempting to run one of the other boats off course and using our oars to soak them with river water. They did the same to us which wasn't so bad, considering the heat. Once we docked, we lined up, took head count, and headed into the swamp. There is not a lot that I can say to describe the swamp. Imagine stepping, fully clothed, into a giant puddle of stinking, bubbly mud, up to your waist. As you walk, you step into and trip over gigantic root systems that you cannot see. Sometimes, the ground simply drops off and you sink into the mud up to your armpits or worse, fall into it. One wife in our group aptly described the mud as a big puddle of baby poo. For many of the wives, this is the worst part of the walk. There was a lot of screaming and falling but B co. managed to make it out unscathed and in good humor. We loaded our stinky, nasty, mud covered selves back into the glorious contraptions that the Army refers to as transportation and bounced our way back to Camp, wondering several times if we would actually make it in one piece. Upon arriving at Camp, we schlepped our way down the street towards home until Desiree's husband (SFC. Olsen) took pity on us and let us cram in the back of the subaru. I have never appreciated hot, running water, Bath and Body Works products, and fluffy towels quite so much.

If anyone wants a REAL Florida Swamp experience, come visit next August! If you just want to live vicariously through our experience, log onto www.nwfdailynews.com and look under photo galleries for the Wives Swamp Walk to see a real Florida Swamp and some real Army Wives!

Griffins!

Last night we got to go to the hospital to see our newest little Ranger, Griffin Matthew Hire. He is adorable! Our friends Jason and Yohanna and their two little girls were there to see the baby as well so it was one big party of B Co. families in the room. It just so happens that Jason's last name is Griffin so there has been much teasing amongst the guys about Matt and Brooke choosing Griffin as a first name for their little boy. :) We know another Griffin, our friend SSG. Darrell Griffin who gave the ultimate sacrifice in Balad, Iraq last year. It is a good, strong name for a little boy to grow into and we are excited that the newest little Griff is here and healthy and destined to do great things! :)

Duane and Baby Griffin

Big Griffin and Little Griffin

(just a reminder, Big Griffin is not Little Griffin's Daddy!)

Beautiful Momma and her handsome little man

Something Blue......

Congratulations are in order for our friends Brooke and Matt and their daughter Camden who welcomed a baby brother this evening! There has been some debate about the name and Matt seemed unsure when he called so we will have to wait and see. Baby boy is healthy and Momma is doing great so all you B co. ladies, give it up for Brooke and the newest little B Co. Ranger! I guess we'll excuse her from the Swamp Walk this one time.......

Two down, one still in the oven!

Dolphin Cruise!

We returned from Birmingham on Friday afternoon, unpacked, reorganized, and headed out Saturday for a Dolphin Cruise in the Gulf. The Swamp Rangers Association is the Florida Chapter of the Worldwide Rangers Association - retired US Army Rangers who get together and support the current Ranger regiment, Rangers, and their families. We are so very lucky to have these wonderful retired soldiers and their wives who do so many nice things for us and pass on so much wisdom about life in the Army. Saturday, they chartered a boat to take about 100 or so of our families out in the Gulf to see some dolphins and just enjoy a day with friends and family. The girls were beyond excited to see the school of dolphins that followed our boat. I tried to get some pictures but wasn't very successful as I spent most of my time trying to make sure the girls didn't go overboard in their excitement! We had a fabulous time and can't wait to do it again.

The girls and their friends, Gavin & Addie

The best dolphin picture I could get

Downtown Birmingham

Our second day in Birmingham included our visit to Dr. Grant at Children's Hospital......

and a visit to the Civil Rights Institute. Having taught the Civil Rights movement numerous times, I was really looking forward to the visit. The museum is incredible - every display is multi-media interactive and charts the Civil Rights Movement both nationally and locally. The institute is located on 16th Street, directly across from the 16th Street Baptist Church that was bombed during the 1960's, taking the lives of 4 young girls and catapulting the struggle for equality in Birmingham to national attention. The 16th Street Baptist Church is still a standing church with an active congregation. There are no pictures allowed in the museum but I did take a few from outside. It was an incredible experience to be surrounded by so much history. If you ever have the chance to visit, don't miss the Civil Rights Institute.

American Village Visit

On our first day in Birmingham, we drove into Montevallo to visit the American Village. American Village is a reproduciton of Colonial America with a chapel, colonial houses, George Washington's Virginia estate, a courthouse, and a tavern. Professional actors play the parts of key historical figures and do an amazing job. Each actor has studied colonial history and their character extensively, allowing them to answer even obscure questions correctly without ever breaking character.

To begin our day, we visited Constitution Hall where Thomas Jefferson was addressing the Constitutional Congress abouth the need for a Declaration of our Independence from King George of England.

After hearing about the need for more volunteers for the regular Army, we proceeded to an encampment of the Rhode Island regular Army and, after passing a physical (2 good legs? 2 good arms? 2 good teeth?) were asked to enlist to fight the British. Duane, Kaitlyn and I enlisted along with several other visitors.

We were schooled in how to load, fire, and shoulder a musket, fix a bayonet, and march in a line. We also got to witness the prepping and firing of a cannon.

After our enlistment and training, we took a break in the dining room of George Washington's Virginia estate. Here we met his daughter in law who had come to keep her mother in law company while the men were away fighting the British. She taught us about the importance of dance in social and political situations and the girls and I got to learn a minuette and perform it. Kaiti and Sam were quite enamored with our instructor's dress and accent! After dancing lessons, we visited the tavern where we learned three gambling games which we played quite successfully. Sam, we discovered, is quite adept at 9 pins! After our little foray into gambling, we headed back to the Virginia estate to meet George Washington himself. He told us all about the statue crafted in his honor as well as the politics of the war and our emerging nation. He even discussed with Duane the tactics and politics surrounding Roger's Rangers, some of the first United States Army Rangers! Following our visit with George, we paid a visit to the courtroom and learned of colonial legal proceedings from a magistrate. He even described in detail some of the punishments! We ended our visit with a viewing of the colonial chapel, the Oval Office, and, of course, the gift shop. We highly recommend American Village if you ever have the chance to visit Alabama! It was incredible and the girls had a blast.

Birmingham Trip '08'

Confederate Flag in front of school

Cotton Fields

Every summer, we make a 5 hour trip to Birmingham, Alabama to see Kaitlyn's Cleft Team at the University of Alabama at Birmingham (UAB) Children's Hospital for a check in and re-evaluation. UAB is a huge complex of medical centers that dominates the entire south end of the city of Birmingham. It is rated among the top 3 hospitals in the nation, second only to the Mayo Clinic, and is a leader in Craniofacial research. In addition to its impeccable credentials, UAB Childrens has some of the kindest Dr's and nurses any parent could ask for. The hospital is built with children in mind, with paintings hung at a child's height and waiting rooms full of interactive toys, bright colors, and Dora the Explorer cartoons. When you go to Cleft Clinic, the waiting room is packed with dozens of other families and children waiting to see Dr. Grant and his team for their yearly check in or for post or pre-op appointments. Kids play and run around at will while parents meet and chat and share pictures and stories. All in all, it is one of the most enjoyable Dr. visits one could ever make.

For us, the 5 hour drive necessitates that we arrive a day early and leave a day after the appointment. This year and last year we decided to extend our stay by a few days and have a mini-vacation. So of course, Kaitlyn now thinks that Dr. Grant visits are the best because they include vacation time!:) Unlike the Northwest, the Southeast does not have well planned freeways and interstates that take you from one destination to the next simply by knowing the appropriate on ramps or exit numbers. Our drive to Birmingham takes us through the panhandle of Florida, winding through small towns like Florala and Crestview until we hit the Alabama state line and cross into Andalusia and a host of other tiny towns. We pass pastures of cows and horses, endless fields of cotton and old brick homes, tiny Main Streets, roadside stands of boiled or roasted peanuts, and huge trees with Spanish Moss climbing the trunks. It really is a beautiful drive that reminds you fo our country's history. Of course, we also pass a few uniquely Southern sights: A Confederate flag flying large and proud in front of the town school and my favorite from this year's drive, a huge sign reading "Go to Church or the Devil will Get you!!!" compelte with a little red devil and pitchfork. There are certain sights that you really only see in the not so politically correct South. After winding through the many sights along Route 55, we finally hit our first Interstate, I-65 near Montgomery, Alabama. Right inside of Montgomery, we take a break and stop at Priester's Pecans, a nearly 100 year old Pecan Candy factory where you can watch them make the candies and sample plenty of Pecan infused delights. Once we have stuffed ourselves and bought some pecans to ship to Mom, we head back to I-65 and begin working our way towards Selma, Alabama..............

Neighborhood Festivities

Here are a few pics of the kids at the Rudderville/ B co. 4th of July BBQ and Fireworks show.....

Independence Day

"For those who have fought for it, Freedom has a taste the protected will never know." (Gen. Patton)

Today is the 4th of July, the day we mark the independence of our nation, or at least eat a lot of BBQ with family and friends. As the evening wanes, we might watch a local fireworks display accompanied by some patriotic music. Perhaps we place a few small flags in our potted plants and dress in red, white, and blue. We enjoy the extra days off from work and the time to catch up with friends and family. The 4th of July is the midway point in summer, the weekend that reminds us that school supplies will soon be on sale and we need to take advantage of the weather while we can.

It wasn't always this way. Over 200 years ago, this was a day heralded by the world, the day that brave men had sacrificed their lives for. It was a day that people had prayed for, had given sons and husbands and brothers for. On that 4th of July, people knew what they were celebrating: Freedom. The intangible goal for which they had risked all they had and given more than they had thought possible. I can't say that I know how they felt because I have never had to risk so much or sacrifice so much for the freedom I enjoy each day.

As Americans, we are lucky to live in relative ignorance of the cost of freedom. In fact, we have lived in such ignorance for so long that we have begun to think that Freedom is something that is owed to us, something we can expect. We are lucky enough to believe that it is our right to raise our children in a safe place where they will be educated and encouraged to achieve their goals. We are lucky enough to believe that we have the unquestionable right to speak what we feel strongly about, to share our opinions, and to stand for the things we believe in without persecution. The reality is that we do not have the right to expect any of these things. These expectations that we have are the fruit of Freedom and Freedom has a cost that we do not like to think about.

I don't like to think about the cost of Freedom any more than the next person. Some days I think I would be content to live in the peaceful bliss of ignorance. But that choice is not mine to make. I married a soldier. Each day I am reminded of the cost of Freedom. The combat boots that sit in stacks on the front porch, the uniforms that pile on the washer, the holidays, anniversaries, and birthdays missed, and the small voices that ask "When will Daddy come home?"all remind me of the cost of freedom. In our house, it is unavoidable. We are lucky to have my husband home right now, assigned to a training position, but I know that each moment here is precious because our next set of orders could arrive at any time and we will be back in deployment mode.
The reminders don't end when I leave our house. We live in a neighborhood of soldiers and their families. Many of my dearest friends are soldier's wives, women who understand what it is like to live a life dominated by the needs of the Army and our country. Everywhere I look, I am reminded of the cost of freedom. When I listen to speeches on the 4th of July, Memorial Day, Labor Day, and Veteran's Day about the cost of Freedom, I picture faces. Freedom is not an intangible concept for my family. I know the cost of my freedom. I know when I watch my husband play with our children because he savors each moment, knowing how many he has missed and how many he will miss in the future. I know the cost when I watch a friend embrace her husband, knowing that she is counting all the times she couldn't and all the times in the future that she will wish she could but he will be deployed or TDY, leaving her to "hold down the fort" again. I know the cost when I bid another friend goodbye as she and her husband follow their orders to another post. I know the cost when I listen to my husband talk of an old friend, a friend who is no longer here because he paid the ultimate price for my freedom. I know how much my freedom cost when I speak with that same friend's wife, and am humbled by her courage, her determination, her warrior spirit. But mostly, I know the cost of my freedom when I hold my husband's hand and remember all the times I wanted to but couldn't and all the times ahead that I will feel the same.

I often think that if I had the choice I would live in ignorant bliss of the cost of Freedom. But then I stop myself because I know that deep down, I am proud to know the cost of my freedom. I am proud to be married to a man that keeps that freedom alive for me and all those who live in ignorant bliss of the cost. I am proud that my children, as young as they are, know enough to shush those around them when the National Anthem is played and stand with their dimpled little hands over their hearts, chests out and heads up. Knowing the cost of my freedom and knowing well the names and faces of the men and women who keep it for me makes me savor it a little more. So this 4th of July, if you aren't sure what you are celebrating or how to celebrate it, let me make a suggestion: celebrate the simple joys of freedom - having friends and family, a place to raise your children, a future to encourage them towards, and the privilege of believing in something and standing for it. And men and women who, like those first revolutionists, are willing to risk all so that you can enjoy these simple pleasures that so many others do not have.

The spirit that first bought us our Freedom in America is not dead, it lives in the men and women who risk without thought for themselves in the hopes that our freedom will continue and that others who have never had freedom will have the joy of savoring it for the first time.

Helping Mommy...

Here are a few pics of Kaiti and Sam "helping" me at Dance Team practice. They warm up with the "big girls" and try to dance with them at every practice. The girls on the team spoil Kaiti and Sam and make a point to stop by Kaitlyn's Kindergarten room and wave whenever they can. I know that teenagers can come across as selfish at times but this is one of the reasons I love teaching this age - they really are just sweet little kids at heart who really take the time to make my little girls feel special. :)

Dance, Dance, Dance...

After all the practicing and last minute details, packing lists and uniform mishaps, June 20th, the first day of Dance Camp, arrived. The toughest part of my day was saying goodbye to Duane and the girls. Duane took a few days off to stay home with him and his mom drove in from Oklahoma but I have NEVER left the girls overnight. I'm sure I drove Duane nuts with all my instructions, none of which he really needed, but he humored me. :) After managing to shove all the gear and food that 16 pre-teen girls require into 5 different vehicles and making a quick stop at Starbucks, we hit Hwy 98 to Panama City Beach and the Edgewater Resort. After arriving and signing in, the girls started right into choreography and technique classes with the home routine competition that night. We soon realized that we were the youngest girls at the camp with the majority of teams in our division being from Jr. High (7th, 8th, and 9th grades) compared to our Middle School team (6th, 7th, and 8th grades) and that we were at the camp with the defending national champions for the last 5 years in addition to some very strong teams with long running programs. The girls were definitely intimidated but they stuck it out. Dance camp is no joke for those of you who think it might include a lot of flitting around in pretty little ballet outfits. The girls dance from 8:00am until 9:00pm with brief lunch and dinner breaks and are expected to practice with their coaches after they finish their 9:00 pm class. To describe the whole experience would take a book, so I will just sum it up:

• I am now completely positive that my 2 little girls will be enough. After spending 4 days with 16 pre-teens, making sure they shower, making their breakfast and keeping track of their things, not to mention keeping them away from the Babe Ruth baseball tournament boys who were also staying at the resort, I am EXHAUSTED!
• I will be investing in ear plugs when my own daughters reach middle school. It seems that EVERYTHING a pre-teen girls says must be said in a screech or a squeal........
• In spite of the aforementioned distractions, the girls did amazingly well....better than I could ever have expected. As a brand new team at a very competitive camp, I did not expect anything at all except for them to be exposed to other dancers and instructors. We walked away with a 3rd place Trophy for our home routine, a Superior Team trophy for the most amount of blue ribbons of any team in the division, 2 of my girls made the national All Star team, we received our bid to Nationals at Disney World on ESPN and an invite to the Capital One Bowl performance. I could never have imagined how well the girls would do! I am very proud of them and VERY, VERY tired.

Practice Makes Perfect

Most of you know that as soon as school ended, I started 4-5 hour practices with my dance team. I've always coached either dance or cheer but when we moved to Florida, the school already had someone coaching a small dance team so I got to take a few years off and just help her out instead of heading things up. Well, this next year I will be taking over the team. Our school is very small so the team has always been small and never competed. I decided to increase our numbers this year and take the girls to UDA Dance Camp to get them used to competition and provide them with a little extra technique instruction. Tryouts went well and out team increased from 5 girls to 16, the largest our small charter school has ever had. I acquired a wonderful assistant coach who happens to be Kaitlyn's kindergarten math teacher. We did a few fundraisers for uniforms before the school was out and had a few after school practices to get to know the girls and their abilities. Once we ended school and uniforms were ordered, we started preparing in earnest for camp. Universal Dance Association Camps are 4 intense days of learning choreography and technique and also offer a competition for originally choreographed "home" routines. Most established teams hire a professional choreographer to create the home routine and have months to practice with their many returning members. With this being a new program, we only had a few weeks between the end of the school year and the beginning of camp to practice with all of our new members and to choreograph a routine that utilized their skills. And of course, we did not have the budget for a professional choreographer so it was just me and my team captain. Many teams also have a trainer who works on cardio and strength training. We don't have that but we do have ....Duane! Duane worked out a training regimen for my girls and came several days to instruct. Some of my girls nearly cried when they saw him come the second time.......but they stuck it out. :) Duane is a tough task master for anyone but for 6th, 7th, and 8th grade girls who have no experience with preparing for any sort of competition, he is a bit intimidating! Here are a few pics of all of our preparations.....