mostly pictures...wait nevermind, I ramble too.

I've got my (magical) desk assembled and was able to get my shiny new iMac put up. It. Is. Amazing. Things are slowly starting to find their way into drawers, shelves, and cabinets, clearing the floor for purposes like, you know, walking. It feels so good to have things begin to settle. There's still a long way to go, and I had the thought the other day about how I'm likely to get the last few things into place the week before the movers come again in the spring. Still, it makes for an exciting life.

If you've followed this blog for any length of time, you know that I struggled a bit (sometimes a little more than a bit) with living in Germany. It's something that is difficult for me to admit, because in my mind there is this notion that it should have been an entirely magical experience, one that we would look back on longingly and cherish for all our days, eternally pining for schnitzel and driving our children crazy with stories of black forest cake and the Rhine. It just wasn't the case for me. It was a good experience--I don't regret living there, but it was limiting in many ways and isolating. I made a few treasured friends in Baumholder, ones I hope to keep always, but on the whole it was a very lonely time. I've always considered myself an introverted person, but in my own way I've always made connections with people of shared interests. Growing up I was involved in choir, in junior high there was band, high school had choir and theater, and LTC dominated my college years. Connections like those were practically non-existent in Germany.

When I found myself unhappy, I felt the fault must lie with me. If I couldn't manage to find excitement and happiness in magical Germany, it must me my problem, my failure. As we prepared for our move back to America and I looked forward to coming home after four long years abroad, I began to worry that my restless dissatisfaction with some aspects of my life there would follow me home.

I am so relieved to find that this has not been the case. Being back home has been everything I longed for. Closer to family, closer to friends, able to communicate, sure of what to expect and able to seek out options and opportunities--we've found Lawton (often not considered a glamour spot in the Army) to be fantastic. That deserves extra emphasis: fantastic. The sun shines, the sky is so huge and blue--it seems to stretch eternally. We're in our own (rented) little home instead of a cramped apartment. We've found a church and I've joined the choir there and already met some wonderful new people. I'm excited about opportunities to take classes again.

I really didn't anticipate sitting down to write a post today. I had these pictures we'd taken the other day of Justin and Evie and looking at the ones of them playing outside just filled me with such joy. I've said it before, but I'll say it again: It is good to be home.

Happy Halloween!

For a few months now Evie's nickname of the moment has been "B," so when I came across this fantastic costume I knew what she had to be this year. We went to three houses trick or treating this year--four including our own. Evie can say a version of "boo," although she would only say it to me as we walked between houses, and not to the neighbors. That's probably for the best, as that much cuteness might have been overwhelming for someone caught unprepared.



We drove three and a half hours down to Frisco, near Lake Dallas today, specifically to go to IKEA. I've been craving a desk they have, and it had begun to be kind of unhealthy how much I longed for it. After a failed attempt earlier this week to get down there, we finally made it and got the desk, although we came close to leaving without it.

If you've been to IKEA, you know how they have the warehouse section where you pick up furniture. Well, for whatever reason, this desk has to be picked up from a seperate area, after check out, in the "furniture pick up" area. NO clue why. I had to request a slip for it from the information guy in the regular warehouse section. I very clearly said that I wanted the Besta Burs desk in high gloss white. He confirmed the color and printed out my paper. I glanced at it fleetingly--the price matched, yada yada yada, okay off to the check out. We made our way over to the special furniture pick up area, turned in the paper and waited about 10 minutes for them to wheel out the boxes. We signed for them and rolled all our goodies out to the car.

Now this sounds like a fairly easy process, but let me tell you, after a 3.5 hr drive with a one year old, your stress level simply stays at an elevated level. We got out to the car to pack the boxes in--I'd measured from the dimensions given online to see if they'd fit in the Tiguan with the car seat there--supposedly they would. It was at this time that I looked more closely at the boxes that held my beloved desk. Oddly, the boxes had pictures of a tv stand on them--not a desk at all. Huh...that's weird I thought I wonder why they would put pictures of a tv stand on the box of a desk. When I pointed this out to Justin he looked at me blankly and suggested, "It's probably not the desk. It's probably a tv stand."

I guess I was in denial about this possibility because in my mind "DESK" and "TV STAND" do not sound very similar at all, and I wondered how the clerk in the warehouse could have misunderstood--we are afterall back in America, where I can speak English and get things I want. Sure enough, however, after carting the heavy thing back inside with my receipt, it was confirmed that the boxes marked "tv stand" were in fact, a tv stand and not a desk. I am sooooooooooo glad that we caught this in the parking lot and not back at home, after a 7 hour roundtrip journey, nay, quest to get this desk.

The house is still a mess--slightly more put together than an explosion, but I'm making small progress daily. I hope to have pictures to share soon.

Settling In and A Parental Rite of Passage

I'm sure as the years go by I'll get a little better at this moving thing. Right now the process is not very streamlined.

We have received both of our shipments now--the first being the unaccompanied baggage shipment, the stuff we'd hung onto the longest in Germany. It included things like a few pots and pans, Evie's crib and swing, toys, sheets, curtains, tools, and clothes. It also, unfortunately was pretty severely damaged in transit. Many of the boxes had gotten really wet and/or were crushed. Evie's crib was molded, as were a bunch of Justin's army gear, papers, and more than a few other things. Thankfully, some of the things survived, and in the end it's just stuff anyway. We'll have to file a claim for damages...joy.

The other shipment arrived a day earlier than we'd expected, on Columbus Day rather than the 13th. The moving crew was eager to be GONE, and didn't do the best job unpacking. As I better learn the way this sort of thing works I'm sure I'll be more assertive in making sure they do things the way they're supposed to. This time was definitely another learning experience.

As we've unpacked, we've noticed a few things appear to be missing. Firstly, our silverware. I chose Gorham's Golden Ribbon Edge for our pattern and we've loved it. I don't know if we have a missing box, if it's hidden somewhere among Christmas decorations or books in a mislabeled box, or if it was, as they say, ganked. I'm bummed about that though. There's a handful of other things that we haven't found yet, including the power cord for the TV. The TV arrived no problem, but it's sort of hard to use if you can't turn it on...I contacted Panasonic, but they don't seem to have replacement parts for our model. Ha. Ha.

This Wednesday we were excited to welcome a house guest into the midst of our cardboard jungle, Justin's friend Eric. They've been alternating shifts in Iraq for the last four/five years. Erc's on leave during his third tour and Justin's done two. We haven't gotten to see him since 2004, so it was a long overdue and anticipated visit. He arrived Wednesday night right before we put Evie to bed and we settled down to visit after she was snuggly asleep.

About an hour and a half after she went down, everyone froze as we thought we heard her stir. Justin went in to lull her back to sleep, as is the routine, but after a moment he called to me, and I knew something was up. As I went down the hall I heard her cough, and it didn't sound good. She'd been completely normal during the day; not so much as a runny nose, so this was completely out of the blue. She was raspy and had a terrible gutteral cough that sounded kind of like a goose. She both wanted to be held, but struggled against me as if in pain. She didn't feel feverish, but it was clear something was wrong.

I called my mother to see if she knew what was up, but she couldn't be sure over the phone what was up and advised us to go with our gut about whether or not she needed to be seen. On other nights (when she's fallen, for instance), we've opted against taking her in, but that night we thought we'd better go on into the ER, just in case. As we readied her to go, she threw up and which was a first for her too.

We arrived about 12:30 am and got checked in and immediately were seen to have her vitals taken and figure out what the symptoms were. After that we were told to have a seat in the waitinig area, where there were at least a half dozen people ahead of us waiting to be seen. Around the room there were signs posted stating that for non-urgent cases, you could expect to wait perhaps 3-4 hours to be seen, and in some cases up to 8 hours. I overheard someone across the room grumble about having been there since 10:30 pm and I began to get nervous. The night air and car ride had soothed Evie, and she was feeling curious about her new surroundings. Still, she was exhausted and not feeling her best, and I knew it was a matter of time before we hit serious Disintegration Mode.

As the time passed and little progress was made to see those in line before us, I began to feel a little desperate. She needed to be seen, even though it didn't appear that she was critically ill, but I worried we were doing more harm that good to have her out of bed for hours on end in the middle of the night. With no end in sight, it was a very horrible and helpless feeling to rock the little ball of hurt and know there just wasn't anything to be done but wait.

It felt like forwever, but we were seen after waiting for an hour and a half. The doctor examined her--by this time, whether due to a second wind or the excitement of a new place, she was all smiles and joy. We totally felt like idiots, like when you bring your car into the mechanic because it's been sounding like it's about to explode only suddenly, upon examination, it purrs like a kitten. He checked her over thoroughly though and pronounced that she has a case of croup. (I'd like to advise whoever is in charge of naming things to come up with a different name for this infection, because "CROUP" sounds AWFUL.) From what we've observed, her case is fairly mild, thank goodness, although the doc said it can last up to 2 weeks. Thankfully, Justin's class hasn't yet begun, so if we're in for a lot of sleepless nights, at least we can cover eachother for naps during the day.

It was a relief to have a diagnosis and course of action that night for sure. It's also a blessing to have good friends like Eric, who don't so much as blink when you rush to the emergency room three hours after welcoming them into the house, leaving them alone with a crazy Hugarian as company.

Last night Evie slept just fine, although she has been definitely feeling under the weather.

Chokydar is still getting used to Eric.