The local community organized a Stand Against Sarcoma 10k this morning for our friend Rob.  It was a most appropriate way to show support for this avid runner.

Krissie did an awesome job when put on the spot to say a few words, though I know she would have given anything to be cheering her husband from the sidelines vs speaking on his behalf from the truck.  This a hard thing, cancer. 

"One of these things is not like the others, one of these things just doesn't belong…"  Yeah, that would be me up front.  In my dress – partly because the pair of sweat pants I packed had to be tossed after we painted and partly because who is going to talk you into running 6 miles when you are dressed like that right? I did what I do, took pictures, and handed the camera up to Krissie so Rob could have a look at the crowd which took several frames, left to right,  to capture. 

Allen finished in very good time.  And this run, Aidan was determined to join in.  He has run 4.5mi but never a 10k til today.  He did a fantastic job and is very encouraged to try it again. 

Kieran and the kids hanging out waiting for the runners to finish. 

We love you Krissie and family.  We really do.

We weren't sure we would be attending the 4th festivities this year. Our movers were scheduled to load this day.  By the end of Monday they had nearly packed the house so we wrapped up a day early on Tuesday.  We went back to the house to clean up and touch up paint Wednesday morning and then regrouped and headed to the base late afternoon for our last American celebration in Germany.

The kids had a party for their last night at the dance studio.  Games, candy, lots of dancing. Lots of laughing.  Lots of wonderful people.  I was doing really well ri-i-i-ght up until Miss Mary told them to line up for the last time they would dance out the door.  Agh.  Last times are hard for me. Very hard.  

My lovely Moira put on a brave face for her dance-around but this was a rough night for her. It is hard to remember this is the same girl who cried for having to come to Germany.  

These three look like trouble. <g>  

Rousing game of freeze tag here, hand in hand. 

Watching Tess looking so very big also caught my breath.  She began to dance two years ago and stumbled over her own feet for months.  Several weeks into it I wasn't sure she was ever going to get it.  But suddenly she is no longer round and tentative but this lanky, confident girl in long braids who knows many dances. And I am happy for her, for them all.  Happy they pushed through their sadness over leaving the ranch to have this German adventure.  Happy for all they have seen and done. Happy that they are well and strong and so very alive.

But there were still tears over here, because that is how milestones go for me. 

That is how we spent the better part of Thursday in pursuit of UK Visas.  In so many ways the past few months have been a comedy of errors, one of those comedies that are funnier when you're not a main character.  We have been working hard at offering it up and trying to roll with it.  What else can you do? Still, every now and then something surprises you.  In the case of Thursday it was that everything went right.  Everything. 

These Visas are a really big deal.  We cannot do a thing without them but we couldn't apply for them until Allen's paperwork came back from the base.  As it turns out the paperwork sat in the limbo of someone's outbox, forgotten for a week or so, which set us back considerably.  So once we had the documents in hand we headed for Düssedorf, a 3.5 hr drive. 

I missed most of the ride there.  We had confirmations this week as well and extra feis practices.  We had to leave at 5am to make our 9 am appointments.  I collapsed in bed late Wed night, rose early to fill them with Raisin Bran and nudge everyone towards the door.  Then I promptly fell asleep in the car.  

It rained pretty hard approaching the city and I was dreading the potentially long wet walk from however far away we would have to park and reminding myself of the dismal condition of the few umbrellas we own.  As we got off the autobahn we entered a sea of red tail lights with about a half hour before the appt.  And then….then it all just worked out.  

Traffic cleared and we found a few parking spots on the same block as the border agency.  That just never happens.  Never. Happens.  We rang the bell to the building which is as secure as Fort Knox.  We were ushered in and immediately frisked and searched which was a little unnerving. The staff was visibly tense looking over our group.  As we moved into the waiting room however we were super pleased to note that it appeared as if everything we needed to do was right there and there weren't many other customers. 

Allen went over the applications with one staffer and we settled in the chairs for close to an hour while they processed our packages.  Then they called me back for my semi-Orwellian 'biometrics' fingerprinting and scans. With a heavy sigh and anxious rifling through the packages the gentleman informed me that I would have to stay in the room while he processed all the children since they are under 18.  No problem, I said. He looked over the packages again and passed over several of the smaller children and we began fingerprinting and scanning each of them, one by one.  

I am not sure what he expected but when we finished the last child he heaved another big sigh, this time of relief, and shook his head.  "I see a discipline there.  They are all so calm. When we have children here it is usually bad.  Very bad. But these were very good."  As we went back out to the security check and were led to the door the staff there piped in as well thanking the children for their behavior.  We got back to the vehicle ten minutes ahead of our 2 hr parking deadline.  All good. 

Every day isn't like that day. There are days – and I am just pulling from my own history here – when your 7 year old pukes right as you are paying the cashier at the convenience store, or your toddler decides they have to pee RIGHT NOW…. and does. (that would be the day you forgot to pack a change of clothes of course)  There are days when they drop the good salad bowl.  Days when they back into the lamp post, or a tree (take your pick) Days when one of them wades along the beach and splits his foot open halfway through your once in a lifetime Disney vacation – requiring a wheelchair for the rest of the park visit.  Days when the teenager does things so unbelievably flippin' stupid you wonder if there is any possible way the nursery switched him up at birth.  There are days like that.  

And then there are these days, when you smile easy, pat them all on the head, and consider that maybe you didn't completely screw up this parenting gig.  Not completely anyway.  You live for these days. Write them down.  You will want to refer back eventually.  : )