Ten Years to Remember

My how time has passed. Chip and I celebrated our 10th anniversary on August 2, and we thought it'd be fun to take a little trip. And why not take the kids with us, right?

Some of our favorite trips (early in our marriage) were the ones where we packed the car and headed in a particular direction, not knowing where we'd wind up. Those carefree traveling days are a little trickier with three children in tow, but we proved it can still be done.

As of that Saturday morning, we weren't sure if we would go to the Adirondacks or the Poconos. En route, we chose the Poconos.

The kids settled quickly in their seats, content with their movie selection, Chip snoozed, and I smiled at the ease in which our trip was progressing.

My premature celebration came to an end, however, about three hours into our six-hour voyage.

So we stopped in Auburn, NY.

Turns out there are quite a few things to do in Auburn. We found a hotel that had just opened - quite literally - and we were excited to be the first to christen our room.

And boy did we christen it.

Sunday morning we got up, and I ran downstairs to grab some breakfast and bring it back up. The kids were quick to spill the chocolate milk on the white duvet. When we left the room to go explore the town, Chip covered the stain with a towel.

Of course the cleaning crew was quick to see the ginormous dairy spot, and they treated us to a new duvet while we were out.

The kids were wonderful that day. They were very well behaved at the Chinese buffet. They were even pleasant on our short hike to see a waterfall. And we all had a blast at the Sciencenter.

Back at the hotel we discovered we had picked up a nail in our rear tire. We couldn't do anything about it that evening, so we focused on making the most of the rest of our time together.

The kids went swimming, and then famished, we returned to the room to order room service. After Chip hung up the phone, William started playing in the closet. Tired of the noise he was making, I told him to go sit on the bed.

He took one step and fell flat on his face. I picked him up and blood started gushing from his forehead. All I could think was, "We've got to get him to the hospital, but we have a flat tire!"

The ever-cool-under-pressure husband I was blessed with calmly announced he would go get our first aid kit from the car. I told him to leave the door ajar so that if room service came, they could come on in; I was a bit busy applying pressure to William's head.

While I waited for Chip - and while trying not to FREAK out - I couldn't help but snicker a little bit as I surveyed the room: the white duvet we were so worried about earlier in the day was now covered in blood, there were blood-stained towels on the floor near me, and I, of course, had blood on me, too.

Of course the food came while I was tending to William. I was afraid the poor girl would drop the food once she came in. Luckily she was concentrating too hard on not dropping the heavy tray to notice what she was walking in on.

Chip returned and was able to use the adhesive end of a Band-Aid to tape William's head together. I'll spare any extra details, but it's worth noting that when we made it back to Buffalo, his head needed more attention. Oh, and he wound up re-injuring it two days later. 

I've said it before: I don't know how little boys ever make it to manhood. Mercy.

As for the tire, we were able to get it replaced the next day.

Here are a few pictures we snapped along the way:

Mirror, Mirror

I caught Abby staring in the mirror this morning. I asked her what she was doing.

"I'm practicing how to look when I'm listening to the teacher," she said.

Abby's "listening" face

I laughed. She came over to me and said, "This is how I will look when the teacher gets on to me."

Abby's "I'm in trouble" face

This Old House

On occasion, I can actually pass by security at the casino without being ID'ed. I consider this a long awaited rite of passage. I finally looked 18. But, as I recently discovered, I look a whole lot older than that. Consider the following:

* I told Abby we would go out of town soon. She asked, "What are we celebrating?" "It's Mommy and Daddy's 10-year anniversary," I replied. Abby scooted over to me and patted my arm. "You sure are an old one, aren't you."

* Abby examined me and Chip and after much consideration said, "You don't look like you are married; you look like ordinary people who live together." I laughed and said, "What do married people look like?" "Well," she started, "you don't look the same. Daddy looks so young and you ... you look so old."

* "Mama, I'm healthy," Abby boasted. "Not like you. You are old and unhealthy."

I could go on, but I won't. Frankly, I can't remember anymore of Abby's quips (could be related to the "old" age thing).

Funny. Seriously, I'm laughing.

Hay, Man

Chip, the kids and I rode up to Lewiston tonight to eat at a place called The Silo. It's been featured on Man vs. Food, in particular the "Haystack" sandwich, which is steak and cheese smothered with hash browns. Chip got one (a small one) and said it was pretty good. The view was better, though, and we enjoyed our walk along the water. Good times.

Abby is SO excited ... and she really loves to pose.

Chip's Haystack

Did I mention she likes to pose?

The Silo in the background

http://www.buffalonews.com/incoming/article105946.ece

The Last Few Weeks

William looks like a king as Abby puts his shoes on his feet.

Maddie wasn't sure what to think about dancing with Daddy.

Abby, on the other hand, loves Daddy's dancing style.

The kids enjoy looking at Outdoor Alabama together.

I caught Abby doing William's hair ...

which turned into Mommy washing William's hair.

William came to me and said, "My nose is bweeding, Mama." 

Birthday Goodness

Thirty-two. Years are going more quickly now, aches are creeping in, memory is fleeting. Yep, I'm in the throes of thirty-dom, no doubt. But it feels good.

I rang in the new year by attending an all day retreat (work related) and then going to dinner with Chip and the kids. Dinner was nice.

It should be an interesting year.

Bring it on.

Days Like This

It's days like this that take me back to that fateful April day.

It was a windy day in Virginia. I had decided to cut grass, so I donned my white cap and headed out the door. Abby was asleep in her bouncy seat, and Chip, who was enjoying a day off, was relaxing by the TV.

The darn wind sticks in my mind - it had blown my cap off so many times I decided to forgo wearing it, and the "For Sale" sign out by the curb sprouted wings, forcing me to chase it down Cedarmeade.

The side yard was next, and about halfway through cutting it, Chip ran out and said he needed to go back to the hospital, something about a mass casualty situation. 

"It's on the news," he said. "There's a shooter on the loose at Virginia Tech."

My heart sank, and the care of how the lawn looked quickly faded as I ran inside to watch the media coverage. There on all the news stations was my school - the school I had so fondly called home for the past year and a half.

I wanted desperately to call my friends to make sure they were OK. Instead, my friends were calling me. They wanted to make sure I wasn't at school.

I wasn't. I was out on maternity leave.

As the facts of the deadly day unfolded, I discovered that two of my public speaking students were shot; both survived, thankfully. Most dreadfully, perhaps, was the news that came a few days later.

It turns out that the shooter had actually been in one of the classes I assisted. No doubt at some point I had come face to face with him. 

As is usually the case when traumatic events happen, I couldn't help asking why. Why did he choose April 16, 2007, as the day to carry out the unthinkable? Why did he choose that building? Why did he do it?

For a long time I had trouble with the shooting, even though I wasn't physically there during the chaos. I remember even just a few years ago, here in a classroom in Buffalo, when I heard some young women screaming, and for a moment I froze in sheer panic. The women were only horse playing.

Even in movie theaters or malls or restaurants I sometimes think how easy it would be for a shooter to go on a rampage. 

So this morning at five, when I heard the story about a fellow who carried out yet another senseless act, the pain of the Virginia Tech shootings surfaced again. And my heart ached for the parents of those kids who chose to see a movie that night the same way it ached for the parents of the students who were killed.

As I prepare to send my oldest to Kindergarten, I am terrified of my child being out in the world, completely out of my control, yet I quickly realize - and am comforted - by the peace of knowing God is in control.

That's just it - God is in control.  Even in times of suffering, God is in control.  And the kicker is that God doesn't allow anything to happen that won't bring Him glory; He uses days like this to draw us closer to Him.

"But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me."  

2 Corinthians 12:9