Do you remember the end of the movie “Raiders of the Lost Ark”? Indiana Jones is trying to figure out what happened to the Ark. Two Army Intelligence men tell him they’ve got “top men” working on it. “Who?” he demands. “Top men,” they answer.

My Army Intelligence husband will neither confirm nor deny that he knows where the Ark is. He will also neither confirm nor deny whether he is one of the Army’s top men.

I don’t know what to think. He had a meeting today in downtown DC with some scary government agency. He even got dressed up in his more formal uniform. No pixilated camouflage for this meeting. I can’t tell you the name of the agency, but I can tell you it’s initials are FBI.

Top men.

shhh

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Bip turns 3 today!  Now we have to pay for him to get into Disneyland.  No matter, we’re so happy to have him along, at Disneyland and anywhere, any day!

Happy Birthday, Bip!
We are so glad you are our son!

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Tonight at dinner time, I sent Boo out to the park to get Pumpkin Girl where she was playing with her friends. Bip was underfoot during the last minute preparations, so Philip suggested that Boo take him along in the wagon. They took a little longer to get home than I’d expected, so I looked out the window for them. I spotted Boo coming up the street, pulling both Pumpkin and Bip in the wagon.

A few minutes later, hands washed and grace said, we started dinner. Boo and Pumpkin Girl started telling their story.

Apparently, when Boo and Bip arrived at the park, they didn’t see Pumpkin Girl or her friends. So Boo started calling for her. Pumpkin says she heard someone calling softly, “Pumpkin!” She looked around but didn’t see him. She heard it again, softly, “Pumpkin!” Still, she didn’t see him. Boo says he was trying to call her gently, instead of his usual yelling at her. (I was glad to hear that all my lecturing is sinking in.) So finally he saw her and called loudly, “PUMPKIN!!” Bip, ever helpful, called her, too. This time Pumpkin turned and saw her brothers.

Boo, a little frustrated at her, had his annoyed face on and his fists clenched at his sides in mock anger. Bip, on the other hand, raised his arms for his sister. “Like this,” he added, showing me his “come hug me” stance. So Pumpkin Girl said goodbye to her friends and ran to her brothers.

“Get in,” Boo growled, gesturing to the wagon.

As they started to pull away, Pumpkin’s friends called out, “Bye, Pumpkin! Nice ride!”

To which she yelled back, “Yeah, totally!” And home they came.

Not only was their telling of the story, punctuated with Bip’s point of view, very funny, but Philip and I couldn’t help but think that this was just a preview of years to come.

Fast forward seven or eight years. I’m busy getting dinner ready and realize that Pumpkin Girl needs to be picked up from ballet class. I ask 17 year old Boo to go pick her up and Bip asks to go with. Boo pulls up to the studio and finds Pumpkin chatting with her friends. He honks the horn, she “doesn’t hear” him. He honks again, louder this time and she turns towards him. He glowers at her. She says goodbye to her friends and runs to the car. He gruffly tells her to get in. Bip greets her happily.

As Boo’s pulling out of his parking space, Pumpkin’s friends see him and giggle and call out, “Bye, Pumpkin! Nice ride.” She’ll giggle and wave back.

Off they’ll go. But this time Boo will be making a mental note to volunteer to pick up Pumpkin Girl more often.

And I’ll be the one left giggling.

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I’ve moved around quite a bit. I am married to a US Army soldier and we have moved 9 times in 16 years. As a child we moved a bit more than I would have liked, though after 3rd grade we stayed in one place. Through all of my 38 years, one place has remained the same - my grandparents’ house.

It’s not a large home or a fancy one, but it’s home. Here is where we started our 10 day California vacation.

When I was around 3 years old I fell off those steps and scraped my nose on the brick wall.

Our first morning dawned and we were still on East Coast time. We attended mass at the church two blocks from my grandparents’. My parents were married at this church, I was baptized there, as was Boo, and I attended the attached school with most of my cousins. I told this all to my children who were suitably unimpressed.

Later in the day we had a gathering of my extended family. Aunts and cousins and one uncle came to spend the afternoon with us. I have the extreme good fortune to have 4 generations of family all living in one city, relatives from each of my grandparents’ sides of the family. They all know each other, too. I have cousins who are related to me, but not to each other. It confuses others who want to know how we are all related. Eyes glaze over when we say that Holly’s mother is my grandmother’s sister, but Chris’s mom is my grandfather’s sister. Holly and Chris went to school together with Mary, who is my aunt, but Holly and Chris aren’t related. But they are both my cousins. Oh never mind. We know who we are.

It’s funny to be sitting there chatting with grown-up cousins who I used to play hide and seek with just a few years ago (or so it seems). Now our children are the ones running around the yard, climbing the trees and putting together a talent show, much to the delight of their grandmas and great-aunts.

Boo and Pumpkin Girl with two of their cousins (who are not related to each other!) during their talent show.

I cannot begin to describe how wonderful it was to sit in the backyard of a house that I have known all my life. The cool ocean breezes kept the day almost chilly - what a relief from the humidity of DC! My family surrounded me, the very same people who knew my mother as a little girl, attended my wedding, celebrated each of my babies and held me upright during Rebecca’s funeral. There was a history there, my history, my children’s history.

There is nothing like the loving embrace of a family member who shows up just because someone says, “Lorri and her family will be here, please come.” Some moments stay with you forever - like this one particularly afternoon at my grandparents’ house.

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The weather forecast yesterday called for “unsettled” weather.

Around 1pm, the base’s early warning system started sounding. Normally, this occurs at noon, first with a loud message assuring us that it is only a test and then a short burst of the siren.

This time, the wailing of the siren lasted a long time. I walked out of my house, across the street to get Pumpkin Girl in for lunch, all the way back home, checked the computer for severe weather alerts and picked up the phone to call Philip who wasn’t at his desk, then called a neighbor to confirm that Boo was safely in her house.

That’s a long time for a siren to be wailing. When it stopped, the Big Voice announced the all clear. Phew.

Then the siren started again. This time when it stopped the Big Voice proclaimed that a Tornado Warning had been issued for the National Capital Region and all personnel should take cover immediately.

I promptly lost my mind. After all, just because it is clear in the area around my house doesn’t mean that a funnel cloud of death isn’t bearing down on us.

I turned on the Weather Channel. The cable company’s informational blurb temporarily blocked the space where weather alerts scroll by and on the rest of the screen was the swirling vortex of red and yellow torrential rain and doom that was…Hurricane Dolly. The local weather blurb became visible - nothing but heat and humidity.

The Big Voice was now alternating between telling me to run for my life and to begin recovery efforts.

I was not amused.

At no time did the Big Voice assure me that this was only a test.

It may be me, but don’t you think that running a test of the “tornado coming, we’re all going to die” announcement, without saying it’s a test, in the middle of the severe weather season is an egregious error of the highest order?

Don’t you think someone in charge of the base owes me an apology and perhaps a box of Godiva chocolates?

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There was Jedi Training in the front yard.

A little sunshine

Some rain (third year in a row, but this time no scary storms!)

Hot dogs

A short walk to the fireworks

More rain during the show

Isn’t this picture cool? You can see the lights of the fireworks reflected on the Potomac and can just make out the Washington Monument. All the lights on the left are Reagan Nat’l Airport. I generally don’t take pictures of fireworks since I’d rather just watch. Plus, other people do a much better job with the same firework show, like this:

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Our next door neighbors didn’t leave on Friday as I thought they were. Their children and ours were outside playing Friday night as long as they could. Saturday morning the parents were still working on cleaning up and the children played until lunchtime. They told us they’d be away from the house on Sunday, but would be back on Monday to clear housing and then they’d be gone.

Tonight it hit Pumpkin Girl. She looked over at me with her big eyes and her serious look. “Do you think Gabrielle’s gone by now?” she asked. I told her that yes, they were gone. And then tears came. All I could do was hold her as she grieved the loss of her friend.

It’s one thing to be the one hurting, it’s quite another when it’s your child. Some days, life in the Army is no fun at all.

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No, not to my blog! Good heavens, what would the world be coming to? No, it’s time to say goodbye to a couple of friends and neighbors. This picture, taken from my front door, is a scene all too common around here lately. It’s the PCS season again. Moving Season, for you civilian types.

Today is the last day that I will answer the door to find our next door neighbors hoping for Boo and Pumpkin Girl to play. They are a nice Catholic family with children neatly spaced right in between ours. My children knew what time their bus dropped them off from school and would often meet them at the bus stop to walk them home. On cold days, they would huddle together under the bleachers at the baseball adjacent to our house or sit in the bus shelter just across the street from the Potomac River, just waiting for the bus to bring their friends home.

The four of them had many adventures together and for the most part, they got along very well. The occasional rough spots were quickly mended.

This morning after swimming lessons I found myself with 6 children playing upstairs, taking refuge from the already hot and humid day. Next door, they finished the final cleaning of their house and the emptying of their refrigerator (into mine!) in preparation of their “clearing quarters” this afternoon. At some point, I’m not sure when, they’ll walk away from their house one last time and we won’t ever see them again.

PCS season is a bummer.

Another good Catholic family is leaving this weekend and clearing housing today, too. They live across the big green field from us. I can see their house from my yard. Their children and mine were friends, too. Their children have been good friends with ours and I enjoyed the mom’s friendship in our Catholic Women of the Chapel and Catholic homeschoolers group. We will probably see them tomorrow evening at church and again, we will most likely never cross paths again.

Sigh. With friends moving away, storms in the forecast all weekend, and Boo off the Cub Scout camp, of course I am feeling disquieted today. I need to focus on something else.

It’s hard, you know? PCS season really is a bummer - friends are moving away, it’s hot, it’s sticky and there’s nothing I can do about it. I can stick out my tongue and stamp my foot and nothing’s going to change.

But I can change my attitude. I’m not so much as a “glass half empty” person as I am a “Hey, how come everyone else got a glass?” type. Looking on the bright side doesn’t come naturally to me. I’m really going to have to now, though, or I think I’ll go crazy.

Let me give it a try. Here’s a thought: Each newly emptied house is an opportunity for another great family to move in. Oo, here’s another positive thought: In about one month I’ll be enjoying the coolness of the California coast and when we return, summer will be nearly over and Fall will be just 6 weeks away.

See? It’s not so bad, really. I just hate saying goodbye.

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Look what we got yesterday.

It goes along with these:

Oh yes, it’s time for the joys of warmer weather - bug bites, skinned knees, 90% humidity and potty training. Try to contain yourself.

It occurred to me at the beginning of the month that we are going to Disneyworld in 6 months. Six short months and wouldn’t it be nice to have no one in diapers! Of course, that means more frequent potty stops and the potential for embarrassing accidents, but I’ll risk it.

Boo wasn’t too hard to potty train. It was also Spring and Summer time and he likes to please. We did get off to a rough start, though. Maybe it was my inexperience as a first time potty trainer. Or it could have been that Boo doesn’t like to do anything unless he knows he’ll succeed, so he was slow to warm to the potty. Plus, our downstairs bathroom was a bit far for a toddler to reach in a hurry. So we set up shop right in the living room. With a little Playhut pop up “room” and a potty chair, it was like having an outhouse in the house. We didn’t have many people over. Boo spent the summer without pants and he figured it out soon enough. We didn’t stress too much and by the time he turned 3 in early Fall, he was done.

Pumpkin Girl was a lot easier, of course. Like the typical little sister, she both admires her big brother and is determined to out do him. She told us she wanted to wear underwear like Boo and we told her she could if she learned to use the potty. A week later she was dry all day and sporting Hello Kitty underwear. She was 2 years and 4 months old.

She reads above grade level, too, the little over achiever.

As for Bip, that remains to be seen. He really, really, really likes his new underwear. His best friend is in underwear almost all day. Our bathroom is very close. However, he is extremely silly and very independent, which could take him far - but in which direction?

So we’ve got all the equipment in place, including a spray bottle of Mrs. Meyers and a cleaning rag for the inevitable accidents (like the one that happened while I was typing), and now we wait and encourage and smile and clean.

Wish us luck!

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Despite the nice weather, the neighborhood was quiet today.  Most of the boys were off at the end of the year Cub Scout campout, along with their siblings and at least one of their parents.  The ones  left were the toddlers and their moms.  It was an interesting day for me, nowhere to be, nothing pressing to do, no one knocking on the door, no one running in and out of the house.

Philip woke up way too early for a Saturday. He wanted to get out of the house in time to set up camp before the activities started.  He woke Bip up, too which resulted in my early start.  It turned out nicely, though.  Philip, Boo and Pumpkin Girl were on the road by 7:45 and Bip and I settled down for a day all by ourselves.

I don’t often get a chance to spend time with just one of my children alone.  They come as a set, especially the older two.  When Boo was my only child, he and I did a few Mommy and Me type things that were fun.  Pumpkin Girl and I didn’t do any of those activities, but she and I are kindred spirits, so we find time to spend with each other easily.  Bip just tags happily along with what ever is going on.

Today he had me all to himself.  He played happily while I tackled mounds of laundry and various and sundry other tasks I’d been putting off.  After my morning vanilla chai while reading my favorite forums and blogs, the two of us headed out to the BX.  With nothing else to do today, I could take the time to let him buckle his own car seat.  “Me do it!,” he proudly says. Bip is such a joy to shop with.  He chatters along about the things he sees in the most amusing toddler way.  It’s fun to squeeze his fat little legs  as he sits in the shopping cart and to hold his hand in the parking lot.  I like to pretend to leave him in the car when we get home and he laughs with delight when I “remember” him.

Back at home, we watched lots of Thomas videos and when he told me it was my turn to pick a movie, I took him up on his offer and grabbed one of my favorite chick flicks.  I settled down with a crochet project and he constructed ancient ruins with his blocks and drove his cars all around them.

Later he and I went to church together then watched “Toy Story” while eating dinner.

It was a simple day.  A quiet day.  A Bip and Mama just doing nothing sort of day.

When I kissed him goodnight, I told him that I enjoyed our day together and that he was a good boy.  He told me, “yeah, you fun!”

Yeah, you fun, too, Bip.

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