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?

Some serious growth...

With R&R almost here, I wanted to see how much the girls had grown in the almost 8 months since Dad left. You'd think I put fertilizer in their shoes! Big Sis has grown 2-1/2 inches and L'il Sis has grown by 2-3/4 inches. This has got to stop! At this rate, they'll tower over me by the time they are 12!

I must have seriously weak genes.

Mm-m...

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

The more things change...

Have you seen this week's Jenny comic strip? Definitely a case of "the more things change, the more they stay the same."

And it's not just the nomadic lifestyle. In this current climate of constant deployments and high stress for military families, this is another area where things have changed considerably from previous eras but so much has also stayed the same.

Previous military families who endured separations during World War II, Korea, Vietnam, and so many more conflicts didn't have access to the communication technologies that we have today. Many of us are able to email or MotoMail our loved ones. Sometimes they are able to call us using morale calls or even satellite phones. Occasionally, units or even individuals are able to arrange VTCs (video tele-conferences) with our service members. Previous generations didn't have any of that.

But what hasn't changed? They are still gone, half a world away in a hostile environment. We still worry. And we wait. Our hearts still break a little each day. We wait and wonder about the person who will return. We wonder if they will still like and love the person we've become, the person they will be returning to. We wonder what we will do if they don't return. We wait and torture ourselves with all the "what ifs." We look at our children and mourn the time they've missed with a parent and all the events and milestones that the other parent has missed. We wait and worry about all the little things and all the big things. We wait while looking forward to homecoming with excitement and anxiety. They are still gone. We are still left behind waiting and trying to hold it all together. Waiting for them to step back into our shared life. That hasn't changed.

The book is not about a military family, but the first page of Audrey Niffenegger's The Time Traveler's Wife resonated with me in terms of being the one left to wait. It begins with these lines:
"....It's hard being left behind. I wait for Henry, not knowing where he is, wondering if he's okay. It's hard to be the one who stays."
A little later, she asks: "Why is love intensified by absence?"
Then: "I wait for him. Each moment is as slow and transparent as glass. Through each moment I can see infinite moments lined up, waiting. Why has he gone where I cannot follow?"

The waiting hasn't changed.

*update: I'm not recommending the book at this point as I haven't gotten very far in it yet. I'd only just started reading it and the first page just resonated a bit.

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!

September 11

Six years ago, we were in San Francisco on a vacation. We stood in our hotel room glued to the TV. At first, we thought it was a movie or something. It took us awhile to realize that we were watching news coverage of actual events that were taking place that day. Very quickly, Hubs was on the phone with his unit. Then I was on the phone to arrange for an early return home. There was nothing we could do that day, so we ventured out into the city. It was so eerie. Everything was so quiet and almost deserted. It was as if the entire city was in shock. I guess it was, really.

I feel like I should have something to say today. But I don't. Words really aren't enough.

Preschool

L'il Sis started morning preschool last week. She's getting to be such a big girl! (And I'm reminded of that when she sings "I'm a big girl now!" from the Pull-ups commercials.)

L'il Sis and a classmate waiting at the gate for their teacher to come and get them.

Welcome to Preschool! L'il Stinker never even looked back once the teacher had them all lined up and headed to their classroom. Not once!

At the end of her first day, L'il Sis was happy to tell me what a great day she'd had.

As much as I'd been looking forward to this day, it was a little sad, too. She's potty trained and now she's started preschool. She's no longer a baby, or even a toddler. L'il Sis is officially a preschooler.

Ist day of school

Big Sis started back to school last Thursday. (Yes, I'm a bit late with this post.) As you can see, she insisted on a messenger bag. She wanted something with only one strap. Which makes since, since she preferred to only use one strap on her backpack anyway.

It's hard to believe she's already in 2nd grade! The only thing I'm anxious about this year is the fact that her school is multi-age and her class this years has 2nd graders, 1st graders AND kindergartners! I felt a little better after the parent orientation, but still have some reservations. Big Sis is very bright but will simply coast if allowed to do so. I ought to know since I was the same way!

little artist

This is not a new thing for L'il Sis, but it has been awhile since she's done this. But this week, she did it TWICE! One day, she was coloring in her coloring book (like one is supposed to do), when suddenly I hear, "Mommy, I color my cheeks!" With a pen! Fortunately, it came right off with a baby wipe. Then a few days later, I find the archway into the living room has been "decorated" with a pencil. Cinderella got to clean up her handiwork with a Magic Eraser. I went over it to make sure it was all gone, but she managed to get the bulk of it off. You'd think that will teach her not to color on things other than paper. But I doubt it!

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?

yep, she's a Devil Pup

A few weeks ago the girls and I joined my mother, step-father, sister, brother-in-law, niece and 3 nephews at a beach house in Topsail for 4 days to celebrate Mom's birthday. Most of the kids loved going down to the beach and playing in the surf. I say most because my 2 year old nephew screamed and shook when he first saw it. And L'il Sis thought "a dab'll do ya." I'd take her down to play in the sand and water. She enjoyed it but after a bit would decide she was done. Then for several days, she didn't care to even go down to the beach and water. That was why I missed what happened and am telling this story second-hand.

Big Sis was down on the beach with everyone else (I couldn't get L'il Sis to leave the house). They see an aircraft and my sister tries to point it out to the 2 year old, "Look! A helicopter!" Big Sis, in all her 6-year old wisdom, practically rolls her eyes and with the "duh!" clear in her tone, informs them, "That's NOT a helicopter. That's an Osprey."

When she returned from the beach, my sister asked me about it and when I confirmed that, yes, the description sounded like an Osprey, she said, "She's definitely a military brat!"

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.

Greater Good

I wrote what follows last year, before our current deployment. I was inspired to make a few changes by a post on SpouseBuzz.

The Greater Good

My husband’s thoughts start turning to the next big thing he wants to do in his career. I’m not sure why he even bothers discussing it with me. Maybe he wants me to feel as though I have some control over what happens. The illusion is not working. The most I can hope to do is point out how difficult certain things could be in various locations (the ones I really, REALLY don’t want to go to) so that he lists it as his number two or three choice instead of as his first. Any of the places I suggest he try to go to are met with a blank look. Sure family life or liberty might be great there but how will that get him into the action, get him into a deployable unit? Duh, it won’t. But I’ll be happy. We’ve done the deployment thing and gotten the t-shirt but no family member wants to do it again.

There’s a scene in the Disney movie The Incredibles when Frozone is tearing through his apartment looking for his super-suit. His wife is preparing for a dinner party and is less than thrilled at his wanting to run off to save the world. Service members are a little like Frozone, grabbing their super-suits and leaving us behind for “the greater good.”

I was telling a non-military friend that my husband was itching to deploy again. It was killing him that his buddies and his Marines were over there and he wasn’t. She asked if he’s crazy. Well, yes, but I knew that before I married him. Clearly, he didn’t become a Marine to do a desk job. My husband likes to say that a smart Marine doesn’t whistle while he packs. It doesn’t mean that he wants to be separated from us, to miss chapters of our girls’ lives while living in challenging conditions. He just thinks there is something important that he needs to be doing, that he should be doing. When your service member is talking about needing to defend our country and our freedoms, how can you argue with that? A missed birthday or simply being home to take out the trash seems pretty unimportant next to that.

Despite my aggravation with the absences and how much my husband gives to the Marine Corps, I am proud of who my husband is and what he does. After all, his sense of duty and commitment to his country are part and parcel of who he is. These are some of the very reasons I fell in love with the man. The truth is, while a strong sense of duty and a desire to serve are admirable qualities, it is hard to be the one left behind for “the greater good.”

We were in San Francisco, on the first day of an overdue vacation, when 9/11 happened. We spent the morning in our hotel room at the Marine Memorial watching the news coverage while my husband made phone calls to his unit and I scrambled to change our travel plans to return home early. We later watched local coverage of people lining up to donate blood. They felt that was something immediate that they could do to help. My husband watched that and quietly commented that he was glad he was in a position to do more than just donate blood.

Damn super-suit.

anticipatory grief

It hasn't been an issue this deployment, but anticipatory grief was something I really struggled with the last time Hubs deployed to Iraq. Of course, I didn't know what it was or even that it had a name. I only knew what I was feeling and thinking about and wondering what was wrong with me that I kept thinking such morbid thoughts. I recently ran across an article on the subject by Kristin Henderson, the wife of a Navy chaplain. It was comforting to know that I wasn't alone and that it is a common experience for families left behind. Ms. Henderson has written another article about the growing disconnect between the military and civilians that is also worth reading.

update on deployment gremlins masquerading as contractors

I'm quickly losing the capacity to be civil.

When people tell you that they will call you no later than ___ with information, shouldn't they do so? Especially when that information involves when they will be making pertinent repairs to your home? I would think so. However, the contractor responsible for repairs to my house failed to call me Wednesday until after 5:30 p.m. (AFTER I'd left a voicemail for him asking for the information). At that time, he left a voicemail saying he wasn't sure if they'd be here Friday (today) or Monday but he would let me know. Guess what? No phone call. I left a terse message on his voicemail this morning. Then I spoke to the maintenance supervisor. Mr. Contractor just called acting offended because he called and left a voicemail for me after my voicemail to him on Wednesday. I interrupted him and pointed out that in his message he said he would call back to let me know whether it would be Friday or Monday. He paused, realized his mistake, and apologized. His tone quickly went from one of umbrage to one of retreat with his tail between his legs.

Now, much as I love being right, I'd love this problem being resolved even more!

When it rains...

A couple of months ago, we had a heavy rainstorm. The next morning, I found that our back wall was literally crumbling away. I contacted the maintenance department (we live in privatized base housing). Several people came by to look at it over the next several weeks (yes, I said "weeks" not "days"), including 2 different sub-contractors. After over 3 weeks of this, I was pretty fed up and physically went to the leasing office. While I was there, they were trying to reach me because the contractor was at my house to do the repairs. No one had bothered to tell me they were coming! So the repairs were made and completed just in time for in-laws to visit. They finished the work in the afternoon. My in-laws arrived at dinner-time. Let's not cut it too close, guys. This wouldn't have been a sticking point except the guest room is right across the hall from the door in the picture!

By the way, the first picture is the baseboard on the wall that needed replacing. See that huge hole in it? I was told they would fix that by filling it with caulk. I replied that wasn't going to do it for me and that the baseboard needed replacing. I said this to at least 2 men. I got another baseboard.

So contractors fixed our back wall near the back door (inside and out) as well as the roof a couple of weeks ago. Well, it rained yesterday. Hard. There was a waterfall where our backdoor is supposed to be. See the picture.


Then the windowsill was completely wet. I took pictures to document it all. Then I printed the pictures and took them down to the leasing office this morning. The ladies there were pretty aghast at the sight. Especially since they knew this was an ongoing problem. One of them remembered me from the last time I was in there about the wall. So, around noon, 2 of the ladies from the leasing office, the work order manager, the area maintenance supervisor, and the contractor all converged on our house to see and discuss.

Later, a maintenance man brought a dehumidifier that is now plugged in and draining into the downstairs shower. It is currently blocking the back door. Hopefully, it will only be here for a couple of days. He also fixed the powder room toilet (again). And looked at the cracked stair (again) and will be ordering a replacement. When that gets here, he'll replace the stair and caulk the others. Is caulk the new duct tape?!

The contractor is supposed to call me tomorrow to let me know when they will be back to do yet more work on the roof and back wall area (on the outside this time). If I don't get that call, I can assure you that I will be making some phone calls of my own! Hell hath no fury as a milspouse in an unsat house with small children and a deployed husband.

I joke that the house is falling down around my ears but sometimes I wonder if the joke isn't on me! But then, hubs is deployed, so, OF COURSE, all this is happening. See all the fun he's missing?

Coaching (warning: yet another potty story)

Starting July 1, L'il Sis and I got serious about this potty training business. What finally got her over her fear of release? Would you believe a Tinkerbell nightgown? Yes, that's all it took. And she hasn't looked back. Sort of.

L'il Sis has been wearing her big girl underpants (cotton training pants) during the day and doing a fabulous job. She hasn't had an accident during the day in ages. But. Well, let's say, "Houston, we have a problem." This one is more common than her fear of release problem, from what I hear. Girlfriend is constipated. I have plied her with apple juice and anything else that I think will provide her with fiber and kept her hydrated. Yet, she's only managed the deed once in a week's time. And that one time... I sounded like a labor coach. Seriously. There I was, cheering her on, encouraging her to "push, push it out...you can do it." It was just so wrong!

Devil Pup

Claire is a true Devil Pup. Lately, her rendition of "B-I-N-G-O" includes this refrain:

"E- N-C-O...E -N-C-O!"

(*an NCO is a non-commisioned officer such as a sergeant)

movie review

I watched Billy Connolly in "The Man Who Sued God" (2001) last night. It's an Aussie flick and was entertaining with an interesting premise. Connolly plays Steve Myers, a lawyer turned fisherman, whose boat is destroyed by lightning. When the insurance company refuses to pay up, citing the "act of God" clause, Myers decides to go after God, or rather his representatives on Earth, for the money. The churches and synagogues find themselves in an interesting position: either they admit liability and open the flood gates to untold claims or prove that God doesn't exist, making them frauds. At any rate, Myers isn't really attacking the religions; he's really after the shyster insurance companies. The film is witty and well worth the time spent watching it. That said, for those unfamiliar with Billy Connolly, supposedly Robin Williams once said that anyone can swear but only Billy Connolly can make it poetry. I'm not sure I'd go that far, but there you have it.