Aloha, Oh.

Hey, y'all - 

We spent most of July in Hawaii. Your dad had to go to another naval exercise down (over?) there, and since the Navy was once again footing the bill for his travel and lodging, we decided to go along. 

Last year, I was a little overwhelmed by the trip. Your dad had to work the night shift, which meant we had to leave the room every morning so he could get at least a minimum amount of sleep. We stayed at a hotel in Waikiki that was three blocks from the beach, which might as well be three miles when you've got two small children (one who hates to walk on sand), a bag of essentials, a mini cooler and towels. This year, I decided things would be different. 

I called Peg Peg and Tex and invited them to join us for our almost three-week stay, so I could have a little help in the kid-wrangling department. Then, I had your dad book us a cabin on the other side of the island at Bellows Air Force Base. The downside of Bellows is it's not near anything - there's no walking to a store or a restaurant. I take that back. It IS near something: The dang ocean. 

This is Laney, showering off on our cabin's back porch. As you can see, the water is about 60 steps away. 

On our first day there, I discovered the cabins don't come with luxurious amenities like...say...towels. I should not have been surprised. The military isn't known for being in the hospitality business. Beach towels in the local store were $16 each, and there were going to be 6 of us, so...yikes. While your dad went to work, I drove you guys to the Kailua Goodwill, where I bought every beach towel and mini-comforter they had for $1.50 each. I'd like to say "This is how I saved us a ton of money!" but instead, I fell in love with my new towel collection and didn't want to give it up, so I made your dad buy me a duffel bag so I could check the towels back to Missoula. Probably a wash at the end of the day. 

Staying on a military base is a lot like stepping back in time to the mid-1970s, and I mean that in the best possible way. Kids ride their bikes and scooters everywhere. They walk to the playground by themselves with instructions to be back before dark. Everyone watches out for everyone else's kids. Laney made a friend in the cabin next door, so while they were playing in the water together, I took them some crackers and lemonade. From down the beach, the friend's mom yelled "I'll get the next snack!" and we raised our beers to each other and went back to reading our books. It takes a tropical village. 

They also have a mini golf course that runs more or less on the honor system: "Here's a club. Have it back to us by the end of the day."

_________

Flying to Hawaii takes about 8 hours of flight time, and when you land, you have to set your watch back four hours. I don't know if it was jet lag, or the time change, but Hagen set a precedent on day 2 of sleeping through just about everything. He would fall asleep on the way to something, sleep through the activity, and wake up back at the cabin, never suspecting he'd missed a thing. This is why Hagen doesn't know that he's been out for a fancy Japanese dinner, been on a snorkeling trip in Kailua, gone purse shopping at the base exchange, and been parked between pints at an Irish pub. 

 

 He's awake!

_________

Tex and Peg Peg arrived a few days into our trip, which worked out well, because Hagen and Tex share a lot of the same hobbies: napping, complaining about sand, enjoying the shade, snacking, and asking when we can go home. 

_________

Our little family loved playing in the water, which we did a lot of. Swimming, body boarding, snorkeling, you name it. For Hagen, it was mostly floating in a Finding Nemo inner tube and asking to be left alone to float. 

Your dad remains the handsomest dude in the world.

Snorkeling over at Ko'onlina, your dad ran into this guy:

 _________

I don't mean to suggest that it was only Team Burbach who enjoyed adventures, because (as I promised my mother I would), I would like to title this section: THAT TIME MY MAMA DID STUFF. 

We hiked to Moana Falls - a 4-mile round-trip journey, over muddy trails, past "Flash Flood Area" signs, in an absolute downpour. And though I offered her the car keys repeatedly, my mama never turned back.

I couldn't believe my mother had brought a little plaid umbrella on a wilderness hike, but then I remembered that Laney had insisted on bringing a purple vinyl purse on the trip, and there's that old saying about apples and where they fall in relation to trees. 

One of Laney's favorite things to do in Hawaii is to eat at the automated sushi place, where plates of sushi pass by your table on a little conveyor belt and you pull off and eat anything that catches your fancy and the restaurant charges you per plate. Peg Peg and Tex went along for the ride, and I guess that also counts as being adventurous and "doing stuff"...

...even if they were literally not having it. 

___________

We visited the USS Arizona Memorial at Pearl Harbor, which was profound and very sad, and reminds me: if you ever go to sacred spot where men have fought and died for your freedom and you choose to wear a halter top and cut-offs, I will rise up from my own grave and address your situation. 

The most moving thing to me was the newest section of the memorial wall. It seems there are those who survived the attack on 12/7/41 who have asked to be buried with their brothers in the USS Arizona decades later. That says so much to me about the concept of brotherhood and how the events of a single day can mark your life forever. 

 ________________

For the final week of our trip, we moved over to Waikiki so we could do some city activities, and my mama could be within walking distance of a Macy's and a PF Changs. We stayed at the Hale Koa hotel, which is a military resort on the water in Waikiki.

And of course, we went to the luau. 

...and the Zoo...

...and the Children's Museum and the shave ice place and the mall and the hotel pool where military lifeguards rule with an iron fist and enforce hourly "adult swim" times that bum all the kids out. 

There's no way I could possibly include all of the great pictures from our beautiful, fabulous, fun-filled trip, but if you want to check them out, I put them here. 

'Til next time, Hawaii. 

Miss you already. 

Love,

Mom

The Tetz Visit - The Wrap-Up

Hey, y'all - 

Grandpa Ron visited for a little over a week, and spent lots of time with each of you. He's a semi-legendary golfer, and he took Laney and your dad golfing. There are no pictures of this, because your dad doesn't believe in taking pictures. He also listened patiently as Hagen told him all about dinosaurs and puppies and Rescue Bots and things that transform and LEGO bricks.

At the end of the week, he said, "I think Hagen's going to grow up to be a great engineer." "That's good," your dad said, "because we're worried he's going to grow up to have a much older girlfriend who drives a Trans Am."

On one of the last nights of the big family visit, all of the boys (Grandpa Ron, your dad, Hagen and Uncle Mark) went to see our minor league baseball team play. 

The girls (Grandma Sue, Aunt Nancy, Laney and me) went downtown to the Top Hat to hear a live band and dance and eat delicious munchies. Laney was in hog heaven. Here's a few minutes of you special girls of all ages:

Everyone left town over the next day or two, and we were back to our normal family unit.

Seems awfully quiet around here now...

Love,
Mom

You Hated It. We Hated It. BAWK!

Dear Laney,

Missoula has one of the pre-eminent children's theatres in the country (this is not a joke) and they also offer a summer theatre camp for kids 6-13. I signed you up for a week-long camp earlier this month; you were going to attend classes and workshops and at the end of the week, you'd perform in a production of Blackbeard the Pirate. Anyone who has ever met you and then been forced encouraged to watch your stand-up routines or circus acts or dance combinations or mime shows or pop concerts or instrumental performances or rhythmic gymnastics or trampoline stunts or puppet theatre would have thought this would be a slam dunk.

Instead, you hated theatre camp. You, the child who likes to clutch her imaginary pearls and shout "HOW DARE YOU?!?" when you discover your brother taking the last granola bar from the box, were not about drama school.

On the first day, they assigned roles for Blackbeard, and you and your friend Laila (and all the other 6 year-olds) were cast as parrots. Coming off a triumphant (but uninspiring) run as Snow Chickens, you had each hoped for a better role. There's a lot more sitting around in theatre - and in TV, oh man - than you had expected. You thought the whole week was more or less a drag.

After paying for camp registration, parents also had to pay for tickets to the weekend's show. With my "Snow Queen" experience fresh in my head, I called Laila's mom and arranged for each of us to attend ONE performance; we'd take the matinee and she took the evening show. That way, you and Laila would have a friendly face in the audience at both shows, and none of the grown-ups would have to see the show twice.

Let me tell you - and I say this with all the love in my heart, and as someone who would literally hurl herself in front of a bus for you should the need arise - the show was terrible. It made no sense. No one seemed to be having a good time. There were too many kids (20 parrots! 14 mermaids! 8 crabs! 11 sailors! 6 pirates! 4 pieces of seaweed!) and no plot. There was a moment in the show when Parrot #1 said something like "I want a cracker!" and then Parrots #2 - #20 each repeated "Yeah! A cracker!" I guess so each child could say they had a speaking part. But listening to 20 kids in a row intone "Yeah! A cracker!" almost made my brain melt out of my ears. Again, I say this with love.

The camp sent a letter home that parents were NOT allowed to take photos during the show, but could come back after the evening production for a 6:00pm photo call. I respected their wishes and left my camera at home. I came BACK to the theatre later in the evening. I arrived at 5:45p so I'd be sure to get in and find a spot before the photo call. Instead, I discovered that the play had ended early and they'd decided to go ahead and have everyone come out for pictures, so at 5:45pm, I had just missed the 6:00pm photo call.

You know how sometimes I can fixate on a little logistical thing-gone-wrong until I wind myself up in such a tizzy that my peripheral vision starts to blur and my blood pressure escalates and I end up writing letters to half of Missoula suggesting various activities people should undertake with the horses they rode in on? This was one of those. Your dad urged me not to e-mail the theatre in the midst of my rage stroke. Instead, I sent them an e-mail the next day about how disappointed I was. To their credit, they e-mailed me back right away (correctly assuming they were dealing with an unhinged woman who lives just twenty blocks away and is willing to use her powers for evil) and suggested I bring you back to the theatre at my convenience, where they would put you back in costume and make-up and I could take all the pictures of you I wanted until I no longer wanted to burn their houses down. Instead, I took a deep breath and e-mailed them back and said I appreciated their offer, but instead I was going to remind myself that you were playing Fourth Parrot From The Left, and not accepting a Lifetime Achievement Award from the American Theatre Wing. La la la la, life goes on.

Fortunately, Laila's mom snapped some photos with her phone, so we can always remember your brief stint as a parrot:

If ever there was a photo of someone thinking, "This is bullshit," ^ that one is it.

When all was said and done, you and Laila were in much better spirits, and if anyone asks you what your favorite thing about theatre camp was, you'll probably say, "When it was all over and we got to go out for spaghetti."

That was the audience's favorite part, too.

Polly wanna cracker. Mama need a beer.

Love,
Mom

Summer Is A Clown Car

Hey, y'all -

How much can we fit in?

This week, we've kept Nancy and Mark and added your great-grandpa Ron, with a guest appearance by your uncle Nate.

We all took the day off yesterday and went up to Seeley Lake:

We paddled around the wetlands and saw a baby otter (who was excited to check us out) and its mama (who yelled at her baby to stay the hell away from us). We saw a blue heron (or an egret or a crane or something like that - I don't do birds). And we saw two deer (though if you'd tried to convince me they were oryxes or something, I'd have believed you because nature eludes me). Hagen spent most of the day absolutely content to float in his inner tube and talk about rocks. 

You'll notice that Laney isn't in these pictures. She's spending every day this week at theatre camp and she is NOT HAPPY ABOUT IT. Not one little bit. First, we're having fun without her. Unacceptable! Also, she has been cast as a Parrot in this weekend's production of "Blackbeard The Pirate." It's the Snow Chicken situation all over again, and Laney Burbach was not made to wither away in the chorus. We've had to promise that we're all going to come cheer for her this weekend and we will no longer have fun this week before 5:00pm. 

Love,

Mom

Sports Camp (Lord Help Us)

Dear Hagen, 

In a rare fit of optimism last month, I decided to sign you up for a week-long Rookie Sports Day Camp at the YMCA. Rookie Sports is for kids 4-6 and wraps up every day by lunchtime. Each day, your group would be learning about and playing a different sport: Hockey on Monday! Football on Tuesday! Tumbling on Wednesday! T-Ball on Thursday! Soccer on Friday! 

The night before camp started, I stayed up fretting that the whole thing would be a disaster. When I'd asked you in the past why you didn't want to go outside and play soccer with the kids at your preschool, you'd answered, "I usually like playing with zero other people." You don't like sports or humanity, so I worried that sports camp was going to be a mistake. I explained to your dad in the middle of my tossing and turning: "Look, if I'd signed him up for Computer Coding or Advanced Pterodactyl Studies or How To Build The World's Great Structures Out of Tinkertoys, I would have no concerns. But instead, I've signed him up for a week of everything he hates." If your dad freaked out every time I freaked out, this family would accomplish nothing. Still, I was irritated by his lack of anxiety. 

Laney and I took you to camp on Monday (picture above) and you were in remarkably good spirits about the whole thing. We left you in the capable hands of a gaggle of teenage counselors and ran back to the car. At noon, when we picked you up, I asked, "So....how was sports camp?" You said, "It...was...AWESOME!!!" You even gave a little fist pump. Three seventeen year-old girls were running Rookie Sports, and they each thought you were "The cutest thing in the world," and every time I dropped you off, they gathered to give you a hug, and when I picked you up, you were always sitting in the lap of one of 'em. So that's part of the mystery solved. 

You also made friends with an older (6) girl who always picked you to be on her team, and when I showed up at noon to get you Wednesday, you looked at me and shrugged and said, "She wants me to stay." "Yeah?" I asked, "Well, I need you to come with me, so we're gonna go." I'll be damned if I'm going to wait in the car so my preschooler can chat it up with a girl. 

Today was the last day and I'd heard there was going to be an awards ceremony. I didn't figure it applied to Rookie Sports people, but when I walked in the gym this afternoon, your favorite counselor met me with "Hagen won an award today!!" I'm embarrassed to say I may have hollered, "For WHAT?!?" She told me, "Hagen won the 'Honest Camper' award, because he always tells you the truth...AND THEN SOME."

"We all played soccer today," she also told me, "except for Hagen, who spent the class running up and down the gym howling, because why Hagen?" "Because I'm a coyote," you explained. "He's just got more personality in his body than I've ever seen!" she gushed.

You won a soccer ball for being the Honest Camper. It's flat, so you're wearing it as a dome hat. 

Everything went exactly like I thought it would. 

Yay, sports.

Love,

Mom

Nancy and Mark - The Summer Visiting Season Begins!

Hey y'all - 

Your great-aunt Nancy (Grandma Sue's sister) and her husband Mark are visiting us this week, making them our very first summer visitors. As I've mentioned time and again, if you live in Montana, people only seem to want to visit you in the summer. It's a marvel to me that any work gets done in this state at all between June and August. Nancy said she wanted to be first on purpose so we wouldn't be suffering from visitor fatigue. 

For our first big outing, your dad decided we should go to Lake Como. It's absolutely beautiful, but at an elevation of 4500', it's about 20 degrees colder than I'd like it to be. That didn't slow down this crowd, though:

Your great-uncle Mark is originally from Boston, and still talks like it. Before we could start driving to the lake, we had to wait for him to run get some swim shorts at Tahhhhget.

Nancy is a former Head Start teacher who now leads kids on science and nature-based excursions, so you guys are always in hog heaven when you hang out with her. She is infinitely patient and knows dozens of songs about dinosaurs. After teaching you a song about T-Rexes, Hagen made one up about a triceratops. This is you guys with your triceratops horns:

If only we could get Hagen to be more comfortable around her:

All around, a great way to kick off our summer of visitors.

Love,

Mom