Gettysburg

After my family left for the airport, Wes and I decided to pack up and take the kids to Gettysburg. The timing was perfect because with wind chills in the thirties it was extremely comfortable to be outside walking through a battlefield and climbing Little Round Top. However, when Wes reminded me that the crowds would have been over the top in August when I first suggested that we go, I decided zipping through the park on the coldest day of the year was maybe not that bad.

Evan and Keagan actually got a lot out of the experience. They now understand that the South was composed of "bad guys" and that the "good guys", The North, succeeded in winning the war. Considering our next move is to South Carolina, the heart of the Confederacy and the first state to succeed from the nation, I figure Evan's analysis of the Civil War will go over really well when discussions begin in history class in say two years. Keagan made the most important observation when he said he would fight for the Union because their uniforms looked the best. 

When Wes and I tried to explain the implications of the North winning the war, and the effect it has had on our society, Evan was able to simply say, "The brown guy wouldn't be president; he would just be a guy."

Keagan "What's the brown guy's name?"

Me "Obama"

Keagan "Yeah, yeah, I like him! He should be president!"

And because this conversation proves we have lived outside the Beltway for most of our our childrens' lives and indicates we now have Democrats in our midst, we will be even more popular in the state of Georgia. Instead of Icebergs, I can hear Keagan suggesting that his next soccer team be called the blue donkeys.

In all seriousness, though, I found the day trip highly educational, and I am really glad that we were able to make the trip before we PCS. I read an article a month ago that stated that every American should visit Gettysburg because the outcome of this battle had more implications for our country than any other. I couldn't agree more.

Trains, History, and God

Today we drove into the city to the Botanical Gardens for the Christmas train show. We have made it an annual visit because Keagan has always been a train enthusiast. However, it was Evan that was the most impressed this year. With his little digital camera, he took a picture of every single leaf, bush, and flower. This year's theme is Childhood Stories and it is more elaborate and detailed than any of the past. It was well worth the wait in the cold; even Wes agreed it was a good idea to visit again. 

We also made a stop at the National Archives to see the Constitution, Bill of Rights, and the Declaration of Independence. This has been on our to-do list for five years, and we couldn't believe our luck when we arrived and found such a short wait! When I asked the boys what they had learned during their visit to the vault, Keagan responded with the default answer, the answer that works for almost every situation except a visit to the National Archives. His answer: "God."

Thanksgiving

For the first time in a really long time, we celebrated the Thanksgiving holiday with my family. We ate some wonderful food, watched several games of football, and played lots of Uno.

Last year my mom sent me the idea of making cupcakes in the shape of a turkeys. After making fifteen of those things last year and almost losing my mind thumbing through stacks and stacks of sprinkles to produce thirty turkey feet, I vowed never again. This year my mom found the idea of making Pilgrim hats out of cookies and marsh mellows. After her experience, she promised to eliminate all holiday cooking crafts.

Vikki wanted Wes to take a few pictures of Mallory. She wouldn't pose for anything, but this one of her walking out the front door is the cutest thing!

A Day of Sharing

Today the students in Keagan's school presented the annual Day of Sharing program. 

Dressed as Pilgrims and Indians, the kids played instruments they had made in class, sang a few songs, and recited a few chants. Each student was required to create an authentic Indian name. Keagan's choice: Baseball Elephant.

Where's the Flag, Ref?

When Evan came up from making a tackle today spitting out grass, another mom of a player from our team yelled, "That's what I like to see. Tackling so hard you take a bite of the ground!" I knew instantly we were meant to be best friends. I wished I would have seen her more often on the sidelines because with this little comment, I felt an immediate connection. It's not every day I find another mother who follows the game as closely as I do, or who yells at the ref when bad calls are made. She didn't bring a magazine to read, and there was no collapsible chair on her shoulder when she arrived. She was pacing the sidelines with each play just like I was. However, today was the last game of the fall season, and beyond the introductions of "Hi, I am Jordan's mom" and "I am Evan's mom", we were so caught up with missed holding calls, we didn't make much conversation. Wes says I will meet plenty of moms just like me once we get to Georgia, but my experience tells me that today was a unique situation.

I have registered both boys to play in the spring. I think Keagan was persuaded to play by Evan because Evan wants so desperately to win next season. He believes that he and Keagan will play the roles of Romo and Witten (those are Cowboy greats for you non-Texans), and in the months ahead, they will perfect a couple of plays (ie Evan will pass the ball to Keagan and watch him run) that will take the other teams by surprise. No one will expect the small white boy to be any good. I am certain Evan is banking on this!

Thanks to this season's coaches who proved that Evan was ready to play the game of football and that God gave me boys because He knew how much I would enjoy bundling up in forty degree weather to yell, "Holding!" and "Where's the flag, ref?"

Ninja's Newest Member

Whereas Evan has been blessed with a wonderful soccer coach, Keagan has not been so lucky. I realize it is recreational soccer and that he is only five years old, but the Toole boys and the Toole boys' mama only know competitive soccer. As a result, we expect the coach do a little more than just pass out a snack schedule and wear a whistle. We want drills, laps, and called plays. We also expect any male coach to refrain from wearing any foundation or concealer make up, and because Wes is certain Keagan's coach did just that, we went into the season with a few doubts. After the coach didn't show for last week's game and Wes was out in his Sunday best running drills before the game, we decided we needed to begin the hard search for a real soccer coach. It's more difficult than you might think, and as much as you might be thinking this, it has nothing to do with the level of expectations that I might have. Luckily we think we have found him.

Next season, Keagan will play for Coach Bob, and because he has weekly practices that include drills with cones, wears tank tops (it seems like a realy manly, sporty thing to do), and doesn't wear any make-up, we feel certain he will be a good match for us. Even without the coach, the team has a lot to offer. Keagan will be playing with his best friend Mason, and although Keagan will attempt to create game winning plays with his BFF, Mason will be sure to keep him grounded with discussions of Star Wars and battle scenes. We don't stop there, though. The team also has a very fierce name. The Ninjas. 

On January 9 we begin the indoor winter season with the Ninjas. Here's to Coach Bob and the new team! 

Puppy Love

Keagan's take home folder was stuffed today with pieces of artwork that I instantly recognized as the handiwork of any child but my own. For one, it included pictures of things that I could easily identify. My own boys draw like me and that means they will be third graders before they can draw stick figures. Second, the color palette included purples and pinks. My boys only use black and blue with splotches of red to resemble fire because everything crashes and burns when you are five and a boy. And last, the artwork was completed on stationary. We are lucky to find some printer paper when the boys get the hankering to draw, which is so rare there is no need for us to keep any fancy paper with flowers and colored lines.

When I asked Keagan about the drawings, he told me he drew them for me. As much as I wanted to believe he made such a thoughtful gesture, I didn't believe him for a second. I knew he was hiding something. So I asked again about the artwork. This time he told me Riley, a little girl in his class, drew them at home and brought them to school today.

There are two Rileys in Keagan's class and so I had to clarify the identity of the little girl. Keagan replied that it was the "not cute Riley" that drew the pictures and then furthered revealed to Evan that this is the same Riley that told him in class on Monday that he was handsome. Later he said, "I don't know why she always wants to play dogs and chase me around the playground." Oh, for puppy love!

Riley's beautiful rainbow pictures have been put away for safe keeping. They now sit next to the wonderful pictures that Campbell drew Evan two years ago. I am hoping to meet the master rainbow artist very soon! 

Most Aggressive Player

Team United completed its fall season tonight with the bi-annual dinner at Fuddruckers. During trophy presentations, Evan was awarded the certificate for most aggressive player. Of all the titles passed out to the boys, I felt this one was the most prized.

No Turkey This Thanksgiving

This is Evan's turkey. 

His task for the week was to disguise his turkey so that it is not eaten for Thanksgiving dinner. Evan first planned to create a turkey soldier, but when he couldn't find camouflage in the house (yes, I realize Wes is in the Army and that camo should be found in every closet, but for some reason it was never spotted by Evan). His next plan was the pirate, and because we have left-over eye patches from last year's pirate birthday party, it seemed like a good idea to me. But do you know how hard it is for a seven year old to design a costume from a "variety of materials" that fits a paper turkey? Really absurd. And let me say again REALLY ABSURD.

Once we got the turkey dressed, we designed a background for the turkey. Evan drew a pier, cut out a little brown pirate ship, and designed the plan to use sand paper for the sand of the beach. After cutting strips, we decided that didn't look good. So at the afternoon hour of 5:45 when the sun should still be shining but it is as black as midnight I drove to Dolphin Beach to collect sand. I could see nothing and all I could do was pray that I didn't scoop up a cup of sand that included goose poop. Luckily I didn't or thought I didn't, but when I got it home, Keagan instantly asked, "What's that horrible smell?" Oh, let the halls of first grade reek of goose poop! Revenge is sweet.

I feel certain that this activity will be listed on Evan's differentiated instruction plan, and I am sure it is found under the sub-heading "creativity and ingenuity". However, I feel CRAP would be the better title. Just because it is cute doesn't mean that it has any academic merit. This is what I wanted to scream when I supervised Evan cutting boots from black plastic flags, when I searched the house high and low for red material for the pirate shirt, when I persuaded Evan that euro coins (because Lord knows we have no use for them now) would work for treasure as well as pennies that can actually be spent in the United States, when I scrubbed the sand permanently glued to the kitchen island, when we promised Keagan his blue knight's spear would return in about one week, and when I argued that no one will tell that the navy pirate hair isn't really black.

But alas it is done. Evan says his is the best, and I guess that is a good thing. God, forbid, we send a turkey to school that is not fully outfitted with a treasure chest, ship, pier, and buried gold coins.

Swimming for the Gold

My little fish! Keagan loves the water and while Evan sometimes whines about making the trip to swim lessons on Tuesday afternoons, Keagan always looks forward to it. If we could afford it, I would send him multiple times a week. That's how much he enjoys it! Today he was promoted to swim tots six after he mastered the skills kick and catch and see saw. While the soccer and t-ball seasons are coming to an end, he is excited that we will continue to swim throughout the winter.

Evan is Seven!

Fourteen little boys + two games of laser tag + six pizzas + one big GI Joe Cake = Evan's 7th Birthday Party

Happy Birthday, Sweet Boy!

Peach Orchards and Low Country Cookin'

We are trading opera for country music,
We are swapping vineyards for peach orchards,
We are, with some hesitation, saying good-bye to European history and hello to the home of the Confederacy, and
We are giving up wine (well, Venetian wine) and home-made pasta for sweet tea and low country cookin'.

Yes, we chose Georgia. I know you're shocked because I know most people assumed we would go with Germany. However, neither of us looked forward to downsizing our house to fit into a 1200 square foot apartment, ordering internet service with Duetch Telecom (my whole body convulses with just the thought of the service), or living thousands of miles from a Target.

I was in complete support of the move to Fort Stewart, Georgia because it provides year around warm weather, quick access to the beach, a housing market that we can afford, and a short term stint living in the deep South. That was until I went to the bank today. I ran into a woman, an Army spouse, that I had never met before. The inevitable PCS move was broached and when I said, with a smile on my face I might add, that we were moving to Hinesville, Georgia, she said without any hesitation, "Oh I hated that place! You won't get out of there fast enough."

And I said in a very polite way, "Please don't tell me that. I really want to make this move a good one." And she proceeded to say, "No, I am telling you. It is that bad. Did you know the town doesn't even have a Target?"

It was at this point that I was wondering if I should serve Shock Top or a bottle of port when I broke the news to Wes that I wanted to change my mind...again.

However, I am convinced that I can be happy anywhere; I will be happier if there is a Target within a five minute drive and if we find a house with a pool. Did I mention the humidity is really uncomfortable there?

Well, look at me all worked up about a Target and a pool when we are still dependent on the Army to get us there. I need to remember what happened to us just last week and know that it can all change again next week. Until then I will welcome the thought of peach orchards and low country cookin'.

Happy Birthday, Evan!

Seven years ago today Evan surprised us with his early arrival. What a great day that was! This morning he awoke to clues that led him on a search through the house to the new bike that awaited him in the garage. Mr. Fennelson, our next door neighbor, will be the happiest with this gift because I think he had all he could take of bike repairs.

Even if he does require 20 inch bike, he is still a little boy. It's highly probable that we will leave his birthday party on Friday with crumbs of chocolate cake and clumps of icing on his mouth just as he did at his first birthday party.

This Life of Ours

Thanks for the calls of concern, the emails, the messages, and just the general questions all of you have had this past week as we have struggled to come to terms with our disappointments. The Army deleted our original orders to Vicenza, Italy for reasons that we wish to not elaborate upon because it makes Wes's blood pressure rise and tears to come to my eyes. After several therapy sessions involving Reece's peanut butter assorted two pound bags of candy (I didn't even know this assortment of fine chocolate even existed until I went to Target last week wishing to buy my way to happiness), I think I have recovered. Wes went to assignments on Thursday, and after profuse apologies and statements like "it is out of our hands" and other statements that went something like "blah, blah, blah" we were promised any duty station of our choice. I feel the conversation went something like this.

Assignments: We are so sorry about this situation. We will be happy to send you anywhere you would like. Name your place.
Wes: Fort Sam Houston, Texas please.
Assignments: Well, any place but there. That locale is at max capacity.
Wes: Okay well you tell me what you have open and we will go from there.
Assignments: How about Fort Drum, NY?
Wes: I can feel the frost bite on my toes already. Next option.
Assignments: Fort Dix, NJ. It is only a couple of hours drive from Philadelphia.
Wes: Philly? I went there once. That was enough for me. Next.
Assignments: Fort Campbell, KY
Wes: Yeah, I really don't think my wife would fit in with the rolling hills of Kentucky.
Assignments: Korea is always open.
Wes: I have been there before. It's a country filled with little people who eat kimchi for every meal.
Assignments: Fort Bliss, Texas is really struggling for agents.
Wes: That's in the middle of the Juarez drug cartel where people are kidnapped and murdered daily. I might as well go to Afghanistan.
Assignments: Fort Hood - they really need some new agents this spring and it's home for you.
Wes: Have you been to Texas? It can take two days to drive from one end to the other. I might as well be in Kansas because it is just as close.
Assignments (By now the humor of the one-liners is weighing heavy on the lady in the cubicle behind the computer screen): I can send you to Vicenza working in a different capacity.
Wes: Okay. This is better. What else?
Assignments: Germany has an opening in Schweinfurt. I can give you Fort Stewart outside of Savannah, or I can send you to Fort Gordon in Augusta, Georgia.

So there you have it. We have some possible answers to the move we will make in six weeks! We still have to make the decision and make it quickly. I feel like another bag of peanut butter cups may be in order.