I'm Hikin' In The Rain, Just a-Hikin' In The Raaaainn...

Show and Tell

Dear Laney,

Every month of this school year, you've been assigned a day to bring something in for Show and Tell. Throughout the year, you've had some pretty big ideas on things you'd like to share: your brother, your dog, your trampoline... but I vetoed them in favor of more rational things like a record player or a magic trick.

This month will be your last Show and Tell slot, so I suggested an outside-the-box idea: What if we made a video at home that would allow you to show off those things without the hassle of - say - taking an ornery, old, hairy sled dog into a room full of little people who smell like peanut butter?

You did everything in one take, and were totally understanding when I said things like, "We're going to need an establishing shot of you in the swing..."

Poor Grandma Sue came by in her gardening clothes to plant some things in the yard, and got swept into the shoot because Laney was on such a roll of introducing things.

So, here's Laney's show and tell for May:

Love,

Mom

Beachin'

Hey y'all - 

So, as I was saying:

Your dad had to go to Ft Walton Beach for three weeks with the Navy, so we decided to crash the party. Peg Peg and Tex met us down there and we all shared a condo on the beach for a week. It was overcast and a little chilly while we were there, but that didn't stop y'all from wanting to be on the beach or at the pool every morning by 7:00am. Often, locals would pass us on their morning walk on the beach and watch us splashing in the waves before invariably asking, "Isn't it too cold to be in that water?" "We're from Montana!" I would say. And then they'd nod and respond with something like, "Carry on, then." As in: "If you're crazy enough to live somewhere like that on purpose, there's obviously no reasoning with you."

Your dad had to work every day 'til 3:00pm, then he'd hurry back to us so he could get some beach time in. He assembled a huge sand castle with Hagen, and a 1000-piece jigsaw puzzle with Peg Peg. 

Once again, your dad was the honor graduate of the program, or, as I like to call it, "Valedictorian of War College." I'm sure he did so well because we were there to hold his hand.

Love,

Mom

BREAKING NEWS

We interrupt this beach vacation re-cap to bring you a special report:

Laney lost her first tooth this morning. After months of asking friends, relatives and strangers to feel how loose her bottom tooth was, she finally agreed to let her dad give it a tug this morning. It came right out. 

Thirty seconds of tears were followed by some giddy dancing, some serious tooth fairy talk, an announcement from Hagen ("YANEY! YOUR TOOTH IS MISSING!") and a morning spent showing off her newly-vacant gum to every other kid in her kindergarten class.

Congratulations, Laney.

Love,

Mom

Flying The Friendly Skies

Hey y'all - 

Your dad was assigned by the Navy to attend a special course at Hurlburt Field in Ft. Walton Beach last month. He was going to be there for almost three weeks, which is a long time to go without seeing him, and a long time for me to be a single parent. [Side note: I have NO IDEA how the spouses of service members make their lives work when faced with a "real" deployment - one that's more than a few weeks long and doesn't involve staying in a beach-front condo. Can't imagine. God bless them.] 

Your dad and I decided it would be fun if I flew down with y'all to join him for the middle week of his assignment. Most people would think it an insane idea to fly alone with two small children, but they don't know Team Burbach. 

Our first brilliant move was to send our luggage and car seats down to Florida with your dad in advance. Then, on the day of our trip, the only thing we needed to take with us was a backpack of activities and snacks. Brilliant Idea #2: Everyone had just gotten new headphones for Easter.

Yep, he even rocks this hat on the way to a sunny beach. His head, his rules. 

We had a crazy itinerary that had us flying from Missoula to Denver to Houston to Pensacola...three flights, two tight layovers, twelve hours of travel time.

May I say, not ONCE did either of you cry or even whine. You watched your movies, you colored in your activity books, and you ate eight pounds of animal crackers. Hagen read the safety brochure on each flight because: 1) We love logistics and 2) It gave us yet another chance to talk about how the plane has an emergency slide. A slide! On a plane! For emergencies! There - that's all of Hagen's favorite words in one place. 

Laney's such a pro that on flights where there were two seats on each side of the aisle and we couldn't all sit together, she had no problem at all sitting next to a stranger.

Laney carried her own backpack with her own activities, and led the way most of the time.  She got so far ahead of me as she was boarding the plane on one of our legs that I heard a flight attendant stop her and say, "You need to wait for your mom!" I jogged up and assured the flight attendant, "Nah, she's got it." Laney didn't need my help to find any of her seat assignments, and was usually waiting for me in our row by the time I got there.

This was not our first (or second, or even third) cross-country trip, just the three of us. I have a guideline I follow when we travel: As long as you're being awesome for me, I'll be awesome for you. So stopping for a chocolate milkshake at Ruby's Diner in the Houston Airport was a given.

Hagen said a lot of things out loud that entertained the general public - he was a real comedian of the jet bridge. As I was holding him in the crowded hallway while we waited on our gate-checked stroller, he was poking around on my chest when he suddenly remembered, "I know! I know! LEAVE MOM'S BOOBIES ALONE!" "Yes," I agreed, "Leave Mom's boobies alone."  And on our next leg, waiting for our stroller to come up in the baggage elevator, he said, "My stroller is in 'dere wondering where I am. 'ERE'S HAGEN,' my stroller is saying! Come get me!," etc etc as he performed The Monologue Of The Stroller.

Your dad picked us up from the airport and we checked into our condo, just in time to catch this view from our balcony:

No filter here - it really looked like this. 

 You guys are the best.

Love,
Mom

So That's Why We Match

Dear Hagen,

As you know, Finley is your best buddy. The only person invited to your birthday party. The only other kid you like to talk to at school. Your teacher says that the two of you spend most of your school days over in a corner, working together on one project or another, and having discussions like, "Do you t'ink we should?" "Yeah, we should." "Okay, 'et's do it." 

Finley's mom Katie owns the school you attend. Katie and I had gone back and forth about when to move you both up to the "big kid" school - knowing that you would both need to move over at the same time. We weren't in any rush, because we both knew that the two of you would once again retire to a corner to work on your self-appointed projects and continue your old man conversations.









This past Monday, you moved over and joined the big kid school. It's a big deal, and I don't mean to downplay it, but as expected, you transitioned with no trouble.  Your teacher sent me this picture as you (with Finley in the foreground) were getting ready to head out to the playground:

You like your new teacher. You like that there are lots of big girls in your class who are into hugging you. You like that you get to venture out to the big park. But mostly, you like that you can still hang out in the corner with your bro and do your own thing while covering a broad range of conversational topics:

Welcome to big kid preschool, buddy. 

Love,

Mom

Going To The Courthouse And We're Gonna Get Ma-a-a-rried.

Hey y'all, 

Last month, I flew to LA for the day (I've become the master of the 36 hour turn-around) to attend Brian and Tyler's wedding at the Beverly Hills Courthouse. It was a happy, beautiful day. They had a small party of 12 guests (I made the cut because I took pictures) and had a short ceremony at the Courthouse, followed by a lovely dinner at The Montage Beverly Hills. 

You might think that the wedding chapel inside the Beverly Hills Courthouse would be posh, since the average home price in the neighborhood is $6.5 million (I'm not making that up), but you would be wrong. There is a trellis of fake flowers and parked in the corner is a styrofoam cake. Fake cake is how everyone in LA stays so thin.

The magistrate asked Brian and Tyler how they met, and when they admitted "online," she replied, "Yeah...it's always either the internet or a bar," which seemed a folksy thing to add to the ceremony. 

Then, the ceremony was over and Brian and Tyler hugged, and we clapped, and both mothers-in-law got to sign the certificate as witnesses. They're also both Notaries, which is so sexy.

Sure, it was a day to celebrate what will be a life-long love for two of my favorite people, but the REAL star of the event - for me - was Brian's niece, Natalie.

Natalie and I were seated together at dinner. We ate two pounds of cheese apiece, and balanced forks on our heads and sang funny songs and generally hit it off as most two year olds will with fun 38 year-olds who've had two vodka tonics. I just wished she'd talked me out of ordering the duck.

Brian and Tyler opted for a smaller wedding so they should instead spend several weeks in Italy. I now love and hate them in equal measure.

Congratulations, you crazy kids.

Love,
Brooke