Quick update: Driveway

UPDATE: Driveway, before and after:

This is delivery method for 13 tons of gravel, which my brother-in-law smoothed out for his weekend exercise instead of going to the gym.  Just too bad my boys couldn't enjoy a *real* *live* dump truck in their own front yard!  But, I have a feeling Mr. Mulch (gravel delivery company) may be back with mulch once we've settled the unpacking enough to try our hand at basic yard landscaping.

In the long term, hope to lay down interlocking paving stones which are supposed to be best for drainage.  The driveway declines from street level to basement level, and the home inspection said we will have to closely monitor the drain at the bottom because it will be prone to clogging.  Asphalt or concrete don't appear to be good options because of the run off.

Paving stones, though, have many options and are a bit tricky to choose when I still haven't seen this house in person.  The current mud-ridden (with bits of broken glass) state required immediate attention, so we stuck with the easier gravel option for now.

Why you should always be nice to your sister

Save three years or so between eighth and tenth grade, and one particularly contentious month in college (January 2001), my middle sister and I have thankfully pretty much always gotten along.  (side note: My littlest sister is eight years younger (versus two for the middle), so we never encountered the same rivalry type of issues.)  I'd like to say she felt compelled to repay all the love and guidance I've provided her the last 27 years (would be more, but can't count the above mentioned non-speaking periods) in tackling our home purchase process on our behalf.  But, in reality, she (and her new husband) are just generous people.

As I've noted in previous posts, our whole family frequently helps us out with difficulties of living overseas and during our brief stints back home - but the efforts on our house (especially on the yard) go beyond normal.

In order for the general world to appreciate the work done, enjoy the photos below. As I was putting this together, she was raking up leaves before a rain storm so that our drain doesn't clog.  And this weekend my brother in law will be spreading out new gravel on our driveway (having already spread out dirt to even it up).

Few words are necessary, given the photos.  First, the before in Feb and then in April:

Looking back towards the house and also along the side of the house:

Interim work revealed a mess hidden under brush, including a chain potentially used for taming lions:

So we called in a professional crew to do some excavation and grading:

The new state of our back yard and side of the house with the fence: 

They've also seeded the yard, but given the amount of poison ivy and other weeds pulled up (FYI: poison ivy root can still cause rashes :( ), we're not sure if it will take.  We will start with a book, but may need to call in a professional service for this summer season.

The next move

Our life is so crazy, I can't even believe I was having these thoughts today -- after all, we haven't even completed *this* move.  Still one week left to enjoy in Texas, and we're savoring every moment.

All the same, for 30 minutes during the ride from Houston to Austin when two boys were sleeping and the third was quietly playing on the iPad, I started thinking that since we'll be in DC for two to four years, on our next move:

-- No more long haul flights with infants.  In fact, Ian might even be 4.5 by the time we go overseas again which means potentially no more long haul flights with diapers.  This is totally game changing.
-- If we can manage a person to pick her up, shipping Bagwelle a few days ahead saves on airport stress (us and her).  Or, maybe we should just stagger our moves.  One person flies one day with one kid and dog, the other follows two or three days later with other two kids.  After all, kids will be older and easier to travel with.
-- We "need" another iPad before our next move.  Maybe just a mini will do, but maintaining the 1:1 iPad:kid ratio is key.
-- Wm could possibly be 10 when we move again. 10! In fact, he could fly on his own (ha ha)
-- Oh yeah, and, once again, did I mention no moving with infants?  It didn't seem hard the last three times, until I realized this was the last time, since we don't have to get on a plane and go half way around the world again in a few weeks.  Which means this time, I can fully allow myself to think about how difficult it was and is.  Bigger kids have their own issues, but babies have gear. And schlepping that gear is tiresome.  

24 hours later, life upside down

I often wonder what being in the foreign service was like before telephones, internet - and airplanes.  I was an expat kid before the advent of the internet, so I remember aerogram letters and phone calls costing $5/minute. But I was in Tokyo -- with highly reliable mail delivery and telephone systems, obviously.  What would it have been like being in a more remote location?  Perhaps over homeleave I'll try and search out a good memoir to read.

While somewhere over the Pacific Ocean today, I thought a lot about how airplanes must have changed foreign diplomacy.  Certainly lots has been written about Kissinger's "shuttle diplomacy" - and some has been written on how any government official can get on the plane and go (or read CNN), so we're in the process of sorting out what is the "value add" for even posting diplomats overseas. I could write on that, but that's not what was crossing my mind today.

Today, I was thinking about my family and how - in 24 hours - we left behind, perhaps (likely) forever, a place we lived for two  years. I can't say the flight passed in the blink of an eye, but it did go rather quickly considering all the emotions I needed to sort through when leaving.  In years past - ie, before traveling with three kids five and under - I might have used that time to write in a journal, documenting parting feelings. At my current stage, I felt lucky to have a quiet hour on the plane with all three boys sleeping to acknowledge that leaving is complicated and I still needed to sort through it all. (Thought ended there - flight attendant then shook me and Greg to tell us that Wm's foot was in the aisle. REALLY?!? Food, beverage, and duty free were over - 85% of the plane is sleeping - and she thinks I'm going to wake up a kid who has finally fallen asleep because his foot has slipped under the armrest and is partially in the aisle?)

If I ever get posted to Europe (doesn't seem to be where my career track is headed, but never say never!), I'm going to look into returning from post on a cruise ship. I could stomach 7 nights in transit.  Jet lag transition should be non-existent (right? it's called "jet lag" for a reason) and it would give time to slowly let go of the old place before having to face the new.  An airplane PCS is like ripping off a bandaid.

Or, maybe we'll get posted to Tokyo soon - and maybe I'll be able to save up vacation - and try the 13 night cruise (Tokyo-Vancouver) I just found online.  Then I could actually experience the foreign service in the not-so-distant past before jet planes.

For now, life is just a little upside down, starting with sleeping. Baby went to sleep at 7, and I followed. He was up at 10 and it's now 1:30 and he's still going strong. I'll leave Greg to take care of the other two.

Good bye thoughts from Bishop Jones

(disclaimer - blogging from iPad is super annoying)

Last Sunday at church. Thankfully, Bishop Jones was preaching and - even better - he was near the top of his game come sermon time. Rambling, for sure - that's de facto for a brilliant priest pushing 75 - but a careful listen yeilded some chuckles and gems to take with me "on my journey," as he says nearly every Sunday.

Meditation number one: Be an icon of love in the world, making an impact to mitigate its harshness, evil and injustice. This really resonated with me because of the portfolio I am wrapping up at work (human rights issues, including extrajudicial killings, trafficking in persons, and child labor). The portfolio is quite weighty, and the victims need love.  They need justice, too, but love can perhaps heal more.

He said this in the context of marriage and children. He officiated a wedding yesterday. His foster daughter (whom he and his late wife adopted later in the child's life) recently passed away. The rambling about a new commitment and the love needed to reach hurting children produced the meditative thought above. Eloquent and worth thinking on - just had to listen closely.

Timely comment: We dread the termination of anything beautiful in our lives.  Such a simple and obvious statement, yet so true. And so timely since our family is nearing an extreme terminus. We haven't fallen in love with the Philippines, but we've certainly found beauty, both in scenery when travelling domestically and in our coworkers. Ian was baptized in that church, so it will hold a special spiritual beauty for us - acknowledging the termination of that relationship brought tears at the end of the service.

Three boys, three personalities

Obviously each kid has his own personality.  I wouldn't expect anything less.  I'm wondering if, when they're older, I'll be able to look back and find out that certain aspects of their personalities were apparent in their different ways of falling asleep. 

Wm screamed himself to sleep from 6 months through nearly 4 yrs old.  You might think I'm exagerating, but I'm not.  Please ask my mother in law who after two nights visiting us in Manila said, "I finally figured out what is different about this house. Wm goes to sleep without screaming.  What a difference it makes!"  I concur having lived through over three years of a minimum of 15 minutes (and norm of 30 to 45) of top-of-the-lungs screaming. We tried many methods, finally concluding nothing worked.  My guess is that it was his way of relieving a day's stress.  I'm glad he's found other ways now that he's older.

#2, on the other hand, loves sleep.  Still does.  Until he was about 3, going to sleep was a breeze -- as a baby, once we changed his diaper, put on pjs, and showed him his bed, he would dive for it.  We'd have to be paying attention or he would lean out of our arms toward the crib so strongly, he might fall out of our arms missing the crib.  While he still easily goes to nap, bedtime right now is a bit of a struggle - but if he has a book and a little light, usually he'll "read" until he's ready.

I'm still trying to figure out the baby.  He hasn't fallen naturally into a nap pattern, unlike the big two.  Which means no pattern at bedtime, either.  Some nights he'll nurse to sleep.  Some nights he needs a swaddle, paci, and Greg swaying for 20 minutes, not wanting me anywhere near. 

Tonight was different yet again.  Greg is at the airport dropping off Bagwelle, so I have all three at bedtime on my own.  Wm and Patch were getting a little out of hand, so I turned off the lights and put Ian in his crib to tend to the other two.  I could hear him making noise - not really crying, but not really happy either.  Thirty minutes later, with big brothers settled, I went to check on him and found him peacefully asleep. 

My prediction? #1 will be strong willed with committed emotions.  #2 will be easy going and chill.  #3 will be constantly looking for the new and different.  Perhaps I should print out this post and put it in their baby boxes - and when they have kids of their own, see how my predictions turned out.

This time next week

I will be on an airplane, about half way through what will likely be the second worst day in my life.  The first worst will always be our PCS (permanent change in station) from HYD.  The extreme trauma and sadness of leaving dear friends, the incomprehension of the airline making us repack five carry ons into seven, the frustration when an immigration official tried to tell us we (and the entire US consulate staff) were in the country illegally and we couldn't leave, the frantic run to get on our plane, the lack of sleep of two toddlers over 24 hours, a miserable connection in Frankfurt, a child wetting an airplane seat, the glare from the lady in front of me an hour before landing in Houston when my child started screaming (for the first time in 27 hours of transit).

I almost shouted at that lady that she had no idea what my family had just been through, and who was she to judge a crying three year old?  But, I resisted, disembarked, and collapsed into my mother in law's Accord for the three hour drive to Austin.  Knowing how bad it can be - and knowing that our kiddos were fantastic travelers on more recent Manila-U.S. flights - has obliterated my fear of the upcoming PCS.  But leaving a place is always hard -- even if we are going "home" to the house we have yet to see -- so I still anticipate it being the second worst day.

The house is packed out.  My last cable is out for clearances.  We've started the highly lengthy check out process (39 signatures required).  Bagwelle flies out Friday.  Our car has already arrived in MD.  Still trying to stay in the present, but it's becoming increasingly harder.