napping and chatting

Kindergarten is apparently quite exhausting. For the first week, L'il Sis was coming out of that school looking like she'd been run over by a bus. I'm sure she'll work up some endurance over the year, but for now school just about does her in. She doesn't normally take naps (mainly because she won't sleep at night if we let her). But Thursday was a half-day for some reason so when L'il Sis put herself down for a nap about an hour after we got home, I just let it lie.



While her sister was sleeping, Big Sis went into tween mode. She spent almost all afternoon on the phone. Most of the time, she and a friend from school were calling each other. If this was a preview of life to come...*shudder*
.... I actually had to threaten to make her pay the phone bill to get her off the phone.
(no, this is not her room...she took over my room for all the chatting)

Hey, Dual-bag!

This is too funny!

Relocation bonus

Today, I managed to find a benefit to our new home. I had a doctor's appointment, my first since moving here. And you know what? I saw an actual, honest-to-God doctor! And that wasn't all. She actually took the time to listen to me, ask questions, make suggestions, and discuss what the next few steps should be. I was floored and left her office with a positive feeling. It's been a long time since I actually liked the person responsible for my health care. Too long.

Now for the back story. The last 2 duty stations we were at, my PCM (primary care manager) was a nurse practitioner. In theory, I don't have a problem with this unless I have a serious illness but I'm generally pretty healthy. I said in theory. Because I'm sure there are some wonderful nurse practitioners out there. I just wouldn't count the 2 I had as being among them. Both were extremely condescending and dismissive toward me. And for those of you who know me personally, you know how much I hate that! Every time it happened, I wanted to scream at those women that I probably had more education and a higher IQ than they did so they should stop treating me like an idiot and just listen to my concerns for 2 minutes.

3 tours back, the doctor I saw the most was an OB (it was when I was having L'il Sis). We were at a duty station where we saw civilian doctors. And although the OB wasn't my PCM, she was who I saw most of the time due to the situation and short time we were there. I wasn't an interesting enough case for the her though, so more often than not, she was out of the exam room practically before I had a chance to open my mouth to ask a question.

So you can see why I'm so appreciative to have gotten lucky this go-round. It was about time!

Military Spouse Appreciation and Mother's Day

It's Military Spouse Appreciation Day. And I, for one, appreciate the spouses over at SpouseBuzz. They are a great source of support. AND they have this little radio show... Last night, they spoke with 2 gentlemen from USAA about identity theft and renter's insurance. They also gave an iPod to a caller. That caller was me! Thanks, SpouseBuzz and USAA!





In other mil-spouse news, Household Baggage Handlers is being released in the next week or two. Marna Krajeski has edited a volume of essays by military spouses (including me!) so be sure to look for it.

And finally, Happy Mother's Day a few days early!

What's your accent?

Instead of calling it "Midland," I think I'm going to have to call my accent: "Mil-brat." Because I'm not from any of the places named. I was born in Tennessee, grew up in the Army, eventually landing in Oklahoma. Oh, and I pick up accents pretty easily so I have to watch it or it sounds like I'm making fun of people when I'm really not.

What American accent do you have? Your Result: The Midland "You have a Midland accent" is just another way of saying "you don't have an accent." You probably are from the Midland (Pennsylvania, southern Ohio, southern Indiana, southern Illinois, and Missouri) but then for all we know you could be from Florida or Charleston or one of those big southern cities like Atlanta or Dallas. You have a good voice for TV and radio.
The West
Boston
North Central
The Inland North
The South
Philadelphia
The Northeast
What American accent do you have? Quiz Created on GoToQuiz

just another great gene...

I started finding curly white hair in my straight brown hair while in college. Yes, college! Recently, I noticed a single white hair in the back of my 3 year old's mop of brown hair. Guess that's at least one gene she inherited from me.

Wrong number. Sort of.

The cell phone rang and when I answered, I heard a male voice. But it wasn't my husband. He identified himself as LtCol Somebody and then said, "I'm trying to reach...(um)...Basil." Really? Okay, sure. So, I told him he'd reached a wrong number.

Other than being annoyed that I've been getting several wrong number calls on my cell phone lately, I didn't give it any more thought. Then my husband called later that day. Mid-way through our conversation, he suddenly asked if anyone called looking for "Basil." Well, that's a little weird. How did he know?

He's been traveling lately and had apparently been borrowing someone's cell phone to call me. (No, I didn't ask where he was where a cell phone would even work.) Anyway, the owner of the phone accidentally called me. Afterward, he saw my husband and said, "Hey, Stretch, I think I called your wife. The good news is Basil's not there."

FINALLY!

It's cooled off and it actually feels like Fall around here. About time, too.

R&R

R&R is almost here! Woo-hoo!

Of course, that means what can go wrong will go wrong.... The only day I had to get the car detailed threatened rain. The morning that L'il Sis was in preschool and I had scheduled a hair and wax appointment, well, my stylist gets horribly ill and has to cancel. While I feel terrible for her and wish her a speedy recovery, I still needed those grey roots to disappear. So, I put my head into the hands of a total stranger and hoped for the best. It worked out okay, but I could have done with less stress to get it all done. When the stylist was shampooing my hair (my favorite part!), I was getting a little head massage. I could feel her trying to work the tension out of my neck and temples. I appreciated the attempt, but almost felt I should tell her it was futile.

Obviously the other thing R&R means is that I'll be absent from the blogosphere for awhile.

*random observation: While driving around running last minute errands, I saw an attractive young woman driving a car with the following on her rear window:
Proud family of
(rank) (name)
(unit)
serving in Iraq

Maybe it's the cynic in me, but my first thought was that it really wasn't a good idea to advertise the fact that her husband was overseas, not home, not around. Especially in such large letters. I understand she's proud of him. But couldn't she find a way to express that without compromising her own security?

This is in front of the main gate to an installation that is home to some noisy machines. I like it!

I posted before on the sound of freedom here. What does freedom sound like to you?

Mm-m...

I'd never had dark chocolate m&m's. Until today. Where have these been all my life?!

random movie

One of the benefits of deployments is that I get to fill our movie queue with all sorts of things that I know Hubs wouldn't watch. I've caught up on movies that the rest of the planet has already seen, chick flicks, BBC TV shows, and other totally random films, like The Man Who Sued God. Sometimes I watch things that are really good but because they are independent or foreign films probably didn't get much play here in the States.

Last night, I watched Sweet Land. I'd never heard of it so went into it with no expectations. It was wonderful! The story is of a German mail order bride arriving in 1920 Minnesota to a hostile Norwegian-American community. Prejudices run rampant and she is unable to procure the paperwork necessary to actually get married. But beyond that, it is a love story of two strangers who come to respect and love each other despite/because of their obstacles. You can see the growing attraction and sexual tension between the couple. You can see the love growing in their eyes as they surreptitiously watch each other. But that's just about all you see. Anticipation is almost another character in this film. But I guess I relate to that these days!

It's come to this

Last night my sister called:
Sis: What are you doing?
Me: Something weird... I'm watching Heartbreak Ridge on TV.
Sis: What's that?
Me: It's a Clint Eastwood Marine movie.
Sis: (long pause) Your Marine really needs to come home.
Me: Ya think?

Lactation, Navy-style

In 2000, I gave birth to my first child at Robert E. Bush Naval Hospital in the middle of the Mojave Desert. That pretty much sets the tone, doesn’t it? Because she was my first child, I was horrified that these insane people at the hospital were going to send this child home with me when I was obviously unqualified to care for her. Maybe that’s why I didn’t notice that all of my post-delivery care was provided by men. My nurses and corpsmen were all men. Don’t misunderstand me -- they were great and I received wonderful care. But it was a bit odd, and I didn’t notice. My mother pointed it out when she visited before my discharge. It might have been odd but it wasn’t terribly surprising. After all, it was a Naval hospital.

The nurse serving as the lactation consultant was also a man, a Navy Ensign. He was very encouraging and supportive and just a bit over the top. My husband says he was way over the top. My husband left for a short time to bring a friend to see me. While he was gone, this Ensign, the male lactation consultant, came in to see me for a consult because I was having some problems. Once my husband returned, the Ensign called him out to the hall to go over all the things he’d already discussed with me and to drive home the importance of my husband being supportive of the process. While that sounds pleasant enough, this was an Ensign on a mission and he was on the warpath to ensure my husband knew he should have been there to receive the lecture, I mean consultation, with me. Maybe he was having a bad day. My husband is a 6’8” Marine. I didn’t see this “lecture” as a good idea.

Our lactation issues were just beginning. The hospital also had another person whose job title was Breast Education Specialist/ Lactation Consultant. This person was, thankfully, a woman. After being home with our baby and continuing to have difficulty, I was referred to this consultant. My mother was still there to help out so she came with me. The three of us, Mom, the baby and me, sat in this woman’s office for an hour. We discussed what I had tried and what more I could do. I nursed the baby while the consultant observed and offered suggestions. Finally, we got ready to leave. As we were going out the door, Mom asked her, “Did you nurse all of your children?”

She smiled and answered very sweetly, “Oh, I don’t have any children.”

Gee, I think I could have read the books myself. Oh, wait, I think I did.

*In case it wasn't clear, this post was a memoir post. The child I wrote about is going to be 7 in less than 2 months. I was having a rough, deployment gremlin-filled day and wanted to post something that struck me as funny.

random quote

I ran across this quote recently. I'm not sure who said it. But I'm thinking about posting it, prominently, somewhere in my house:

"Children are paparazzi. They take your picture mentally when you don't want them to, when you don't look good, and show it back to you in their behaviour."