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Miss Miriam

Most parents I know like to rave about their precious offspring. I'm no different, I suppose. Here are three vignettes that seem to typify my eldest, Miss Miriam.

One morning, my husband asked me, "Did Miriam help you make the banana bread?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Because I smelled something funny when it was toasting, then felt something chewy when I bit into it, then pulled a rubber band out of it!"

I heard Miriam crying in an unusually alarmed way. She ran over to me, crying, "Help, Mama!" She was rubbing one eye so I took a closer look. Her extra-long eyelashes had become stuck inside her lower lid and she needed help extricating them.

We were at a farm festival where a local band played on a makeshift stage. John and Miriam went ahead of me while I fed Will in the car. As I walked up to the festival, I heard the band leader calling all dancers over his microphone. Then he asked, "where's Miriam? She'd get up and dance!"

a moment

We left Montana in November and traveled to Germany in December to spend Christmas with my husband's family. My brother-in-law is stationed over there with his family and their parents joined us from Florida for a true Spear Christmas. Miriam loved her time with her five Spear cousins. We enjoyed the beautiful Christmas Markets, and our passports were stolen.
While that last bit sounds terrible (and seemed terrible at the time), it ended up being easier than expected to remedy. We had to shell out the $$$ for new passports and hang out at the consulate for a few hours one morning and then, voila, we got temporary passports good for one year.
Meanwhile, back in Germany, I was still upset after receiving the replacement passports. I was upset that the trip suddenly became much more expensive than anticipated. I was upset that we missed out on a special family trip while at the consulate. I was most upset at our messed up world that causes people to believe stolen passports are the answer. We walked through a park across from the consulate. Passing by a gazebo, a man sat on a chair with his cello playing ethereal, wistful music. As we stopped to listen, a dove flew overhead, through the gazebo. The sun shone and God reminded me He is good and rules the day, though our messed up world would seek me to believe otherwise.

Will, home, & special projects: an update

As promised, here are the delicious details of life post-Air Force. Our new son, William Reeves Spear, arrived April 11 -- the same day we closed on our new home at the labor and delivery wing of the hospital. Returning to CT also heralded a return to Love146 as their Special Projects Manager which has me internally innovating at one of my most favorite orgs in the world. My husband continues his military association as a SASI (pronounced sassy for Sr. Aerospace Instructor) with Jr. ROTC. The almost three year old spitfire, aka Miriam, is loving her new house with a built-in slide and all her "T-time" with her cousin. There's so much to unpack figuratively (and literally, too) related to this transition, the closing of one door and opening of many new doors, so stay tuned for more.