The end of the school year is just days away. June is on the horizon. This has been a mental marking point for me – 1 year to go, possibly less. This Island is one of extremes for me. I adore nature’s beauty, but I abhor the filth and trash. I am in debt to such warm generosity, and at the same time I am always watching my back for criminals. The emotional highs and lows will not be missed, but certain places, individuals and unique items will always be thought of with fondness. As we begin the end, I will take time every few weeks to reflect on the “good stuff.”
In our “Best Things about our life in Puerto Rico” list, our Church is ranked at the top. We spent months searching for a good fit. We tried the Base chapel, local Spanish Masses, and finally we happened upon a service held in the Caribe Hilton, a hotel about 4 miles from our home. The 9:00 am Service is in English and is provided by Priests from a beautiful church in Old San Juan, San Agustín. You can see the pale pink spires of the old church here.
The set up at the hotel is rather simple. Mass takes place in a small auditorium.
The beauty of attending a church where we are the only regulars, is that the kids take on roles that would usually be reserved for the adults in the community. The children are readers, ushers, and help serve the Eucharist. During this year of preparation for Harry’s First Communion and Caitlyn’s Confirmation, it has been wonderful to see them take active roles in the celebration of their faith.
While the services are simple, the surroundings are quite exotic. After Mass each week we step out into the hotel’s Tropical Garden.
The setting is beautiful.
You can look out at the magnificent ocean.
Or sit beside the pond.
For children there is nothing like understandings God’s hand than the opportunity to take an up close look at fascinating works of nature.
Thanks to our connection with San Agustín, we have been able to reach out to the needs of the local people. Poverty is rampant here. My kids have spent most of their lives in suburbia, or lovely little villages in the U.K. The daily sights in San Juan have been eye-opening. We often have to balance our desire to be of assistance with the common sense needed to stay safe. While we cannot open our car window and give a hand-out to the multiple beggars we encounter daily, we wanted to focus on this need as Caitlyn chose her Confirmation service hours. She opted to participate in the Parish’s form of feeding the homeless. They have a system worked out with locals for distributing bags of food. After learning the basic components of the meals (a canned pasta with meat, a fruit cup, a pudding cup and a spoon) we set out to shop for and prepare bags to donate. At $2 a bag we were able to include the basics as well as a granola bar, raisins, and a package of cheese and crackers. Here is our assembly in the back of our mini-van.
This project not only connected us to our local community, but to our last community. Caitlyn prepared in Puerto Rico for a Confirmation that took place in Arkansas. Thanks to a wonderful education director she fulfilled her assignments virtually and was able to fly into town to receive the Sacrament among dear friends.
This has been a special lesson for all of us. In our uncertain life with constant change, Faith and Service are gifts. They connect us to our community and tie together the chapters of our life.
Alright folks, this is a long one, but so is a year of training. And so is a race that consists of a 2.4 mile swim, a 112 mile bike ride, and a 26.2 mile run.
Registration was in May 2011.
To say that the year of training went without a hitch would be an exaggeration.
There were no flat tires. No rotator cuff tears. No IT band inflammation.
But, there was that peskey Gallbladder back in October.
And after the diabetes discovery there was a short debate as to whether or not to continue to pursue this dream. It turns out that having this race scheduled was not only a good motivation to remain active and nutritionally on target, but the training was a great distraction during a frustrating time.
Our Irondad was unbelievably dedicated, with early alarms, many 2-a-day workouts, and lots and lots of miles covered.
A great point along the training route was completing and cheering on the San Juan 1/2 Ironman.
Everyone was right on target with training and enthusiasm.
Heading to TX for this race was a family affair. At one point or another everyone participated in the training, and everyone was going to be there when Irondad crossed the finish line.
First I share the spectator point of view:
I had been part of a cheering team at one other Ironman a few years ago. I remembered that it was EXHAUSTING. With 4 kids in tow, I knew that we needed to be ultra organized. We had clothes laid out, signs made, snacks packed, noise makers, activities, sunscreen, cameras and phones charged, and a plan for drop offs, parking and spectating. We were ready to go when the alarm rang out at 4:15 am.
Off to the swim!
I dropped Irondad and the kids off at the Swim start, while I parked near the bike transition area. (Important for when the bike would be loaded back in the car hours later.) I made the 1.5 mile walk back to the starting line.
The time passed quickly and the sights and sounds were amusing.
Swimming lessons anyone?
And this was my favorite conversation: Irondude 1 says to Irondude 2: “Okay, so this isn’t like a 5k, we need to pace ourselves.” Good philosophy Irondude, hope you have a little training done to back up that stellar plan.
Back at the race start,
I met up with my gang. Everyone was marked up with Irondad’s number: 1979.
While the air was think with nerves and anticipation, the kids were swinging away, without a care in this world.
Have I ever mentioned that I LOVE that my children immediately come to a halt and put their hand over their heart with the first note of the National Anthem, Reveille or Retreat?
Time to get in the water – “Good Luck!”
The morning air felt great, but with such a warm winter in TX, the water temperature was reading 81 degrees. That meant that it would be a wet-suit optional swim. If you opted to wear a wet suit you could not qualify for Kona, you could not win any awards and you would take a 10 minute penalty. Since wearing a wet suit was part of his training plan, Irondad opted to wait the 10 minutes. As you watch the 7:00 start, you will see that waiting was wise, and he started catching the earlier starters in just about 500 meters.
The 7:00 am start:
7:10 Start
Let the games begin!
The kids and I hustled to the Swim/Bike transition. We could walk our 1.5 miles and still have time to find a good viewing location. Now, at about 8:00 am, some of us were a little tired.
With 2500 bodies swimming down the canal, I was regretting that we didn’t mark up his cap with an identifying symbol…. but the we were able to pick him out of the school of swimmers. How? With each stroke, he waved at us.
Strokes looked strong and smooth.
And just as I wondered “how are you feeling?” Irondad read my mind.
We all scrambled to be at different portions for the swim to bike transition.
Caitlyn saw him get out of the water.
We saw him grab his changing bag.
He went in to grab his bike,
And Harry and I watched him ride away.
A little motivation for the ride:
The next few hours were re-charging for everyone (including the phones.) We ate, we read and we ate some more.
Time to find our cheering place! Just along the canal provided cool breezes, lots of viewing and some distractions.
Harry kept cool in the sprayground. While the girls “rested their eyes” until Dad came by.
He has been spotted!
I love being out to support runners/walkers. As one who has been on the receiving end of many kind words, I know how much of a difference it can make. Being called by name will put spring in your step. A high-five from a kid is inspiration to continue on. A funny sign can keep you chuckling for another mile.
Harry’s shouts of “I BELIEEEEEVE! I believe in you and you and you! I believe you can finish this Ironman!” were met with many smiles. It also alerted me that he may have a preaching gig somewhere in his future.
Since the run course lapped three times, we came to recognize a number of runners. Aside from our Irondad, the kids got a kick out of cheering for Fireman Rob. He does numerous events dressed in his gear, raising money for charity.
At one point Harry had turned into a one-man-band. A cow bell, a horn, a sign and some more motivational words: “You’re looking GOOD! Actually, you’re looking GREEEEEEEAT!”
While the athletes loved him, I was waiting for some of the other spectators to offer to pay him to quiet down. Actually, his sisters were actually offering to pay him to stop altogether. We had all been at this for about 12 hours now, everyone was a little testy.
It turns out that Irondad planned to call it a day around mile 13 or 14 of the Marathon. Then he decided that finishing the race would be easier than actually telling me that he was stopping. While that makes me sound really mean, it was fairly true. I WOULD NOT HAVE LET HIM QUIT. Okay, if it were a medical emergency, I would. But pain that would pass? Losing hope? Lack of determination? Nope, I wouldn’t have let him. I had a few tricks up my sleeve. Words that I knew would get him to the end. But I never needed to use them.
The sun was setting, one lap to go.
With the bike retrieved and packed in the car, we were back along the finish chute. If ever in your life you have an opportunity to watch the finish of a marathon, or a half or full Ironman, Do It! You will be inspired beyond belief. All ages. All abilities. All shapes and sizes. Watching complete strangers accomplish such insurmountable goals will move you to tears. Watching someone you know and love is even more emotional.
The time had arrived. What we had waited a year to see. A year plus 15 hours and 47 minutes. That moment had arrived!
Now that guy who is usually a man of very few words shares his experience (I suppose 15+ hours gives one some time to for reflection):
Recap of Memorial Hermann Ironman Texas 19 May 2012.
I thought the air temperature (61 start; high of 89) was great. Training in Puerto Rico definitely helped my heat acclimation. Water was warm (81.3) so the race was wet suit optional. I wore one because that had always been my plan. The wet suit people started 10 minutes later (7:10) then everyone else. The swim has always been my best event so I was really comfortable and got into a rhythm despite being kicked, hit and pawed. I did the swim in 1:25 (actually 1:15 with the 10 minute “penalty”).
I got out of the water feeling good and started the bike. I thought the roads were really smooth and averaged 17.5 for the first half. Stopped at the special needs which I would recommend for everyone to do. Those 3 minutes off the bike definitely refresh you. As I started the turn to the south, I hit the 10 mph head wind. Miles 60 to 80 was the hardest part. The roads were rougher, a headwind and strong sun. After this the roads got better along with the crowds and shade. I finished the bike in 6:51. I felt good, but I was ready to get off the bike. My ”plan” was still intact. I walked the first mile (that was my plan) and my feet felt funny, but I just thought they were just asleep. I started running 1 minute, walking 1 minutes, but stopped at mile 4 to check my feet. I saw the blisters and covered them in vaseline, but by mile 6, I knew I would have to walk the rest of the way. The blisters on my feet were a big surprise. I had never gotten even a hot spot on my feet from biking before, but all the training I did here was very flat. I guess those rolling hills of Texas were enough to make them form.
In every section of the race there is a time when you will question if you can get through it. It depends on how you deal with that questioning if you will get through.
I knew I had plenty of time to finish but it was pretty demoralizing because my “plan” had fallen apart. Jackie and the kids came to the rescue though. Their cheering and positive attitude pushed me on to mile 13. At this point I had decided to quit. Then at mile 14, I dug deep and starting talking to myself out loud (not a single person looked at me like I was crazy), pushing myself, reminding myself what I did to get here, thinking of Jackie and the kids, along with a hundred other things. I saw my motivation team again around mile 16 and knew I was almost to single digits. All I had to do was NOT stop. By now the blisters on my feet were about 2 inches across and new blisters had formed on my heels from walking funny.
Stomach, legs, hydration, energy levels, all were really good. I just wanted to cut off my feet.
At this point the Ironman became a mental challenge more than a physical one. It is amazing what you can do with will power. The power of a child’s cheer or wife’s look of belief in you can be stronger than any drug. It can help you more than any piece of expensive equipment or training book.
The finish was outstanding and Jackie and the kids were still there cheering, making it that much more special. The Ironman is NOT an individual event, it takes hundreds of volunteers and it takes the sacrifice of family to ge t through the training and the event.
The Final words — “YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!” 15:47:58
Will I ever do another? — Maybe.
Will I ever volunteer at an Iroman event? — Definitely People make a huge difference.
Our darling niece was baptised. As a special gift for our God daughter (really, more for her parents, ok really most for her mother) I took some time to do a photo shoot of the event, the dress and the little star of the show. Considering the activity surrounding this day – airport pick ups, house cleaning, food preparations, and lots of extra relatives – she had no problem being the sweet center of attention.
Seriously, look at this face… her eyes… and the delicious rolls of softness.
As always, I could go on and on with the details of an heirloom dress, the adoration of this little one by her extended family and the light she brings into a room….. but today I will let the photos tell the story.
This past week has been the most wonderful whirlwind of celebrations, accomplishments, loved ones, and food. Our TX /AR trip was exactly the breath of fresh air that we needed. I have so many photographs to edit and events to write about, it is hard to know where to begin. While I madly sort through images of a Christening, a Confirmation and an Ironman, I admit that my taste buds and growling stomach can’t stop thinking of the most wonderful Bakery. Most friendly. Most delicious. Most knowledgable. MOST WONDERFUL!
During a celebration with friends, I was thoughtfully treated to the most delicious cupcake I have ever eaten. I am not talking, best gluten-free cupcake, I am talking in 40 years of living, BEST CUPCAKE EVER. I knew then that I could not leave Little Rock, AR without checking the place out myself.
Depsey Bakery is located at 323 Cross Street in Little Rock, AR.
Dempsey Bakery is a COMPLETELY Gluten-Free, Soy-Free and Nut-Free establishment. Those who suffer from allergies or Celiac Disease can walk in and order anything off the menu without any fears of cross contamination. Every time I enter a restaurant, even a gluten-free friendly one, I quickly scan the menu for the limited number of items that I can order. I can’t tell you what a welcome relief it is to know that everything in the entire place is an option. In addition, they have dairy free and egg free items.
The location has a clean, fresh feel. I love the red and white decor, with large black and white photographs. It has a retro ambience with a completely up-to-date menu, catering to very real nutritional needs. Each member of the staff was friendly and chock-full of information in regards to ingredients and preparation. Here is a look at the bread display. The breads are to-die-for, especially the baguettes.
If you take a close look, you will see that there are samples of everything! I can think of so many gluten-free foods that I have purchased over the years and ultimately I was disappointed in either the taste or texture. I loved the reassurance that I would enjoy my order. What a smart marketing tool. Dempsey Bakery is confident that if you try it, you will buy it. And right they are!
Go ahead – try a morsel of cookie. I suggest the chocolate chip, the chocolate cloud, the lemon, the snickerdoodle, the chocolate, chocolate chip, and… oh wait, I think that is all of them. Each cookie was soft and chewy. These little “tastes” meant that I went home with a few (dozen.)
I enjoyed the soup/sandwich combo for lunch: Potato Soup and a Roasted Vegetable sandwich on a baguette. I wish I took a photo, but I devoured it before I even thought about being a good blogger. Their menu (which can be viewed on their website) gives a schedule of sandwiches. While I ate, I enjoyed the stacks of reading materials for customers to enjoy: Gluten-Free cookbooks and magazines. I followed it up with a Chocolate cupcake with chocolate icing. An absolutely PERFECT birthday lunch.
I couldn’t leave empty-handed, especially since I didn’t bring my own gluten-free kids with me. So, I purchased just as much as I could possibly fit in a carry-on suitcase. The treasures made their way from Little Rock to Houston in perfect condition and I am not ashamed to say that the kids and I had a tasting-party in lieu of a big birthday dinner. Who needs champagne and caviar when you can have organic milk and cake?
I treated my family to a wide sampling of breads, cookies and cakes. While everything was delicious, the favorites included:
COOKIES: We loved them all, but the Chocolate Cloud Cookies and Snickerdoodles were the favorites. Their cookies are soft, chewy and generous in size.
Victoria might argue that the Double Chocolate Mint Sandwich Cookie out did the rest, but she is a major mint-chocolate chip ice cream fan.
CAKES: While I thoroughly enjoyed my cupcake on site, the Chocolate Drizzle Cream Cheese Cake that I brought home was amazing. It almost reminded me of a grown-up Drake’s Ring Ding.
And a slice of Black Forest Cake was divine, I especially enjoyed the whipped cream icing; it was a nice, light contrast to the rich chocolate cake.
CHEESECAKE – I am a real cheesecake fan and I enjoyed these very much. This would be a perfect choice for someone who prefers a less-sweet dessert as opposed to the truly decadent sweetness of the others.
Overall, I thought that the prices were very fair. I believe that their charges would be similar to a “regular” bakery, or slightly higher, but considering the special, expensive ingredients, they were certainly on par with the Gluten-Free items that can be purchased in a grocery store. I am more than happy to see my dollars spent on a family establishment that provides excellent service, great food and a wealth of information over a mass-produced item in a chain store.
I urge you to check out this gem. Even if you don’t have ANY food issues, it is just so nice to eat in a facility that prepares their own, fresh food without any preservatives. You will not be disappointed in the friendly staff, nor the delightful menu. I guarantee that Dempsey Bakery will be on my Must-Do list each time I find myself back in Little Rock.
I was out to dinner the other night with girlfriends and they asked me if any wisdom had arrived with this life anniversary. I can’t say that I have gained any brain cells, but I have come to a few realizations.
You see, I have had a rich life.
I have lived in beautiful homes.
I have traveled far and wide.
I have run marathons, stood atop mountains, and dipped my toes in oceans, seas, rivers and lakes.
I posses gold and silver, diamonds and pearls.
I have eaten exotic foods and sipped champagne.
There are awards and degrees with my name on them.
But when it comes down to it, none of it matters more than the people with whom I have shared those experiences. What is truly, most important? LOVE. And I am blessed beyond measure when it comes to family and friends.
Time on this Earth is short.
Health is fragile.
I will celebrate this milestone of 40 by cherishing the people in my life who have stuck around all these years.
The Fabulous Forty Birthday Tour started this week in TX and AR, with many more locations to be announced in the next 12 months.
Friendship and time are precious gifts, I thank you for sharing them with me.
Saturday, May 12th: Harrison’s First Holy Communion.
For months Harry was opposed to the entire ordeal.
He wasn’t intimidated by the prayers he needed to learn.
He had no qualms with confessing his sins during the Sacrament of Reconciliation.
It wasn’t fear of gluten in the hosts.
When I pressed him, through his tears, he quietly admitted “I just don’t want to wear a dress.”
Oh Harry.
I guess that is what happens when you have three older sisters.
His memories of their special days included visions of white dresses and veils. When he witnessed each of their Communion Masses, his eyes must have been focussed on his sisters, and not on the little boys wiggling in dress shoes and fiddling with their ties who were also celebrating their First Communion.
Once we had that matter cleared up, it was full speed ahead.
The past few months have been filled with activity at church; Harry often volunteers to assist the Priest at the alter or serve as an usher.
At home his sisters practiced the event. Each girl took turns offering him “the body of Christ” (a potato chip) and “the blood of Christ” (a cup of juice.)
Finally, his BIG DAY arrived.
This Mass was special for so many reasons.
We celebrated at The Strake Jesuit Chapel, in Houston TX – this is the school where Harry’s Dad, uncles and cousins all attended. His was the first First Communion to ever take place here.
We were surrounded by family.
He got to share the Mass with beautiful Bridget, his sweet cousin who was baptised during the same Mass.
And he didn’t have to wear a DRESS!
Side note – he wanted to wear a tuxedo. I finally talked him down to a suit.
It takes a special pair of people to withstand the roller coaster life of a marriage, family and a military career.
One half active duty service member, the other half spouse.
Today is Military Spouse Appreciation Day.
Appreciate doesn’t even come close.
Some people might look from the outside and determine that the biggest advantage of our gypsy life is the world travel. As an insider, I assure you that my life has been improved, not by standing atop the Eiffel Tower or putting my toes in the Mediterranean Sea, but by the strong, talented, funny, loving women that are my compatriots.
These women act as friend, confidant, and emergency contact. In a matter of weeks they take on family status as they are the ones that share your Thanksgiving table, cheer from the sidelines of soccer games, hunt for Easter Eggs, and celebrate birthdays with as much love as an aunt or sister.
This week I threw a small lunch to honor the ladies who stand by my side in our current adventure.
My little party took on a Pear theme, with a play on words as to the importance of the pair in the success of a military life.
I created a keepsake photograph for each guest:
We had a simple meal – A big salad bar with greens, cheeses, nuts, roasted chicken, vegetables, fruit, seeds and croutons. It was a “make your own” to meet the needs of a variety of tastes and diets. I did some mini-quiches too, they were appreciated at lunch and again by my kids for an afterschool snack.
Then we shared some decadent desserts.
Chocolate Tiramisu Trifle
Pina Colada Cupcakes
But most popular were individual Pear, Carmel Cheesecakes.
I followed the recipe exactly, except that my oven required longer cooking times. The process was lengthy, but not difficult. The end result was a really creamy cheese cake and wonderfully GLUTEN FREE!
CHEESE CAKES
1/2 pound cream cheese, at room temperature
1/2 cup sugar
3 large eggs, at room temperature
1/2 cup sour cream
CARAMEL
6 tablespoons light corn syrup
1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/2 cup heavy cream
Fleur de sel
Pre-heat the oven to 325°. In a large bowl, beat the cream cheese and sugar at medium speed until smooth. Beat in the eggs, 1 at a time, then beat in the sour cream. Pour the batter into six 5-ounce ramekins or custard cups.
Set the ramekins in a small pan and set the pan in the center of the oven. Add enough hot water to the pan to reach halfway up the sides of the ramekins. Bake the cheesecakes for 10 minutes, until set at the edges but still quite jiggly in the center. Turn off the oven and leave the cheesecakes in for 1 hour. Transfer the ramekins to a rack and let cool completely.
In a heavy medium saucepan, heat the corn syrup. Stir in the sugar and cook over moderately high heat, undisturbed, until a deep amber caramel forms, about 9 minutes. Off the heat, carefully stir in the butter with a long-handled wooden spoon. Stir in the cream in a thin stream. Transfer the caramel to a heat proof pitcher and let cool. Stir in 3/4 teaspoon of fleur de sel.
Pour 1 1/2 tablespoons of the caramel over each cheesecake and swirl to coat the tops. If the caramel is too thick, warm it in a microwave oven at 10-second intervals. Refrigerate the cheesecakes until chilled, at least 3 hours. Sprinkle with fleur de sel just before serving.
The cheesecakes can be refrigerated for up to 2 days.
To my fellow Military Spouses out there – I appreciate you beyond words!
Check out many more Military Spouse Blogs – click on the button to the right celebrating Military Spouse Appreciation Day! Thanks to Household 6 Diva & Riding the Roller Coaster for linking spouses all over the world together!
I remember some nights as a new mother when I believed with 110% of my heart that my baby would NEVER stop crying.
I wanted to get in the car and just drive and drive until the sounds and scenery were completely different.
But then an extra set of hands, and some sleep, and a sunrise would lead to the realization that yes, this too shall pass.
I hit that point this week, sometime on Thursday.
Hate and exhaustion got the better of me.
I was tired of trying. Tired of fighting. Tired of praying.
I wanted to find a boat, sail away and never look back.
I wanted to get on a plane to somewhere else. Anywhere else.
I was homesick for a place that doesn’t really exist. Somewhere in my head there is a dream home comprised of memories of the past and plans for the future.
I think many military families go through this now and again. A longing for the last place. Anticipating the next place. Not really invested in the current place. I like to think that I am a “bloom where you are planted” kind of person, but here, the concrete and sand aren’t really giving me a place to grab hold.
While I can’t control the things that were wearing me down, I had complete authority over what led me to the bottom of my well.
You see I imagine that I have this big storage of strength. The place I dig into when I am facing a hill near an end of a marathon. The stockpile of stubbornness that allows me to set goals even in the face of uncertainty. That vessel that holds my inspiration, stamina, and will was empty. And I let it get that way.
How? Well,
1) I have spent the last few months putting together a formal complaint to the Department of Education about the school situation here. Months of reading policy and gathering documentation. Months spent looking for and writing about the negatives. I am pretty sure that my radar for “wrong” had completely overshadowed my ability to see anything truly good.
2) We were facing illness. Daily the Prince and I face chronic health issues. While dietary constraints and medications are inconvenient, I would say that we both have a very good handle on daily life. When we are looking at medical issues with a parent or a child, the world seems farther out of our control. Frustrating. Helpless. The hoops I was having to jump through just to get some answers about Grace’s headaches were making me crazy. Worries about a Grandfather made us feel as if there were even more than the actual 2000 miles between PR and TX. The actuality of not being able to control everything got the best of me.
3) I was tired, weary, EXHAUSTED. The Prince flew home to TX. The kids and I had a science fair, a spring concert, late nights with headaches, worrisome Dr. appointments, award ceremonies, a car that needed new tires… all in a week that seemed as if Monsoon season had hit. I was getting too little sleep, too little exercise, and I was feeling a tremendous amount of stress in every area of my life, especially while driving through flash flooding. I knew that every day I was compounding the problem, but there didn’t appear to be an end in sight.
So that brings us to Thursday.
The day that my rope ended.
And thankfully, that guy that I am married to came home.
So I finished 2 paintings.
And I slept for 12 hours on Friday night.
And I went to the beach on Saturday.
And I went running.
And on Sunday we went to church.
And I baked muffins and made a big dinner.
I took the time to do all of the things that fill me up enough to handle all of the things that a Monday will throw my way.
Do I still want to take off? Kind of. But not as much. We talked about all the options, to include me leaving with the kids. While the options and invites are incredibly tempting, I know that we are a better family when we are together. We don’t run away just because things are hard. We don’t give up.
I have always believed that the Air Force sends us exactly where we belong. That each home has something to offer, and we have something to give. This philosophy has carried me from Washington to Florida to England to Arkansas and now to Puerto Rico. I wasn’t about to set a precedent that if we were unhappy or dissatisfied we could just bail.
When our time comes to leave I want the kids to remember the beauty and the adventure, not some anxious countdown to our escape.
So, what do we do? Adjust the sails. Figure out a better strategy. This might mean homeschooling. Maybe more regular changes of scenery. More energy spent on what we enjoy. Figuring out what we have to give.
Does this mean I won’t be running away any time soon?
Well, the next time the urge strikes, I promise to go for a run and take a nap before I make any rash decisions.
Well, they are round, with a hole and Grace was in the middle of both of them yesterday.
No results from the test, but all went smoothly.
She was required to refrain from eating for 12 hours before the procedure. So, while we waited for her 12 noon procedure, her stomach was growling. We had a variety of reading materials while we waited (yes – as you have read before, Dr. Appointments are an all-day affair here, so we go prepared.) The item of most interest was our first issue of DELIGHT magazine. To say that it was delightful would be an understatement. I know that this issues will be well-worn with creases and cooking splashes as we anxiously wait for the summer issue to arrive.
I, too, was not eating in solidarity, so as we browsed through page after page, we were drooling over every recipe. If the wait had been any longer, we might have nibbled on the corners of the pages. Before heading into the exam, it was decided that we would attempt the bagel recipe once we got home.
If you have never had an MRI, it is cold, very loud and you have to enter a cocoon-like tube and stay perfectly still for about 40 minutes. It also includes an injection. Out of all of my children, Grace was really the ideal one to tolerate it. She is very rational and takes rules and requirements SERIOUSLY. When the technician told her to close her eyes and not to move, the child did not flutter an eyelash through the entire process.
During the procedure she listened to classical music. Afterwards she told me that she knew some of the music and played them on the piano inside her fingers.
During the procedure I stood by her side, and rubbed her legs and feet, just to let her know that I was there. Forty minutes are a long time to glance around a room. Grace was tall enough to be placed on the adult-sized board that feeds into the machine. But on the shelves that I was facing, there were small toddler sized boards, and tiny infant sized boards. I gave thanks for our blessings. I can only imagine the torment that some families have to go through as their little ones fight life-threatening illnesses. We are lucky. Sometimes our luck might not seem so great. But we ARE lucky.
The technician was wonderful, and so patient. He let Grace have a look at his computer when we were done. She is hoping for some good prints of the results to frame for her room. Nothing like brain-themed room decor. That’s our Grace.
As promised, when we got home, we made bagels.
We activated yeast, kneaded dough, waited for rising, boiled and baked.
As a native New Yorker, I will say that they were impressive. Soft. Chewy. A very bagely texture. Far better than any “gluten-free bagel” that I had ever had purchased.
I am an artist. I married a pilot. I live in a hotel. On the beach. In the Caribbean.
Check all romantic notions at the door and join the chaos of this military family of six. From culture and cuisine to creativity and chronic illness - we've got it covered! My experiences in mothering, marathoning, moving and marriage are sure to amuse. Glad you're here, stay awhile!
