A Bag of Beans and a Baby

My favorite thing about toddlers is how easily they can be entertained. That being so, yesterday when R and I found ourselves with some one-on-one time, we opened a bag of beans and went to town...

At first, she wasn't quite sure if she should touch them or not, but she got over it pretty quickly

And then, of course, decided that the best course of action was to eat them

Once we had gone through several rounds of "no-no Rogue" and she realized that 1) she could make a noisy mess and 2) I was going to cheer like a mad man every time she picked up even one bean and put it in a container, she came to the reasonable conclusion that beans are the coolest toy on the planet.

Until she noticed that I was taking her picture, and then my camera was the coolest toy on the planet.

So thankful for one-on-one time with this kid.

Memories

Last night we went to Creamers Field for family date night. We were checking out some cranes when I spotted this plaque:

It says "Dedicated to the loving memory of Callie Mae Thomas, Fairbanks resident from 1955-2006, Callie loved the birds and Creamers Field and ice cream, all in one day". I thought that it was such a cute plaque -- the perfect balance between serious and whimsical rememberance of someone passed from this life.
I think a lot about what The Fire Team will remember about me when I've passed from this life. I'm sure that no one else is so obsessive about this, and I concede that the obsession may spawn from my own losses, but I am constantly reminded of the fact that I have no control of my childrens memories. As much as I could that I could erase my short tempered moments, laundry piled up, and cereal for dinner days from their memory and replace it with road trips, belly laughs, and family dates, I can't. All I can do, I suppose, is pray that the good memories outshine the not-so-good memories, and be more mindful to make the memories that I want them to have. And, of course, take them out for ice cream and bird watching more often.

Here are a couple more pictures from our date...

Seriously...Alaska in the Summer...how'd we get lucky enough to live here?

P was really brave about getting up there, but not so sure about getting down. Such is life with this girl! 

A Son

Build me a son, O Lord, who will be strong enough to know when he is weak, and brave enough to face himself when he is afraid; one who will be proud and unbending in honest defeat, and humble and gentle in victory.

Build me a son whose wishbone will not be where his backbone should be; a son who will know Thee and that to know himself is the foundation stone of knowledge. Lead him, I pray, not in the path of ease and comfort, but under the stress and spur of difficulties and challenge. Here let him learn to stand up in the storm; here let him learn compassion for those who fail.

Build me a son whose heart will be clean, whose goal will be high; a son who will master himself before he seeks to master other men; one who will learn to laugh, yet never forget how to weep; one who will reach into the future, yet never forget the past.

And after all these things are his, add, I pray, enough of a sense of humor, so that he may always be serious, yet never take himself too seriously. Give him humility, so that he may always remember the simplicity of greatness, the open mind of true wisdom, the meekness of true strength.

Then I, his father, will dare to whisper, “I have not lived in vain.”

-General Douglas MacArthur

(I found this while I was looking for quotes for a craft project and I just couldn't get over it.)

Boys Club!

Check out these guys...

Seriously, could they get any cuter?

I don't think so either.

No, O people, the Lord has told you what is good,
and this is what he requires of you:
to do what is right, to love mercy,
and to walk humbly with your God.

Micah 6:8

Goodbye Tuff Girl

I got a new car. I needed one. My Jeep (which P lovingly named Tuff Girl) was getting close to the magic mileage number for the best trade-in value and our growing family was getting seriously cramped, and while I loved so many things about Tuff Girl, I knew it was time for us to part ways.
After two days of scouring every major car dealership in the greater Anchorage area we got a great deal on a great car with as much seating and cargo space as you can get without going the minivan route. On a side note, at every dealership I would tell the salesman what my three options were and every time they would try to sell me a minivan -- so frustrating! Anyway, I should be elated, right? And I am. But. But for the fact that in order to get the new car I have to leave Tuff Girl at the dealership. You wouldn't think that would be an emotional moment, but it was. It always is.
One of my dirty little secrets is that I have cried every single time we have gotten rid of a vehicle, from the Delorian-like red car that John and I paid $100 for in Italy when we were still dating to our recent trade-in of the Jeep. Without fail, I have driven away wiping tears from my eyes like I was leaving my child with complete strangers. I know that it seems ridiculous, but here's the thing -- the passing of vehicles is like the seasons of our lives passing, and so I have become emotionally invested in each of them. When we left our car in Italy to move back to the states we were launching full speed ahead into our married life. When we traded in our not-so-trusty 1985 Bronco we were finally becoming grown-ups and tackling a car payment. When we went from a pickup truck to an SUV because I was pregnant with G we were letting go of our kid-free freedom. When we left that SUV at the dealership and drove home the Jeep I cried at the idea of giving up the car that brought G home.
It was no different this time. If anything, it was worse. I'm pretty sure that I was more emotionally invested in Tuff Girl than any other car to date. She moved us from California to Colorado and then from Colorado to Alaska. She was faithful to give me absolutely no problems through two deployments and barely slipped a tire through my first Alaskan winter. Sky and I had matching cars. She brought both of our daughters home. She had backup sensors, which I am positive saved me hundreds of dollars in insurance premiums! But our family has outgrown her. Another season of our lives has passed, and so the Jeep must go (sniffle, sniffle).