Memorial Day weekend

I know this is late, but it was a difficult post to write and I'm still not too sure if I should post it.

It was Memorial Day weekend and it seemed a fitting time to finally sit down and watch Taking Chance, the HBO movie based on LtCol Mike Strobl's story of escorting a fallen Marine PFC Chance Phelps to his home. I remember reading the story written by LtCol Strobl some time ago and crying as I read. That was nothing to the tears I shed watching the movie. Great minds think alike and I noticed that Amy at The Fourth Frog had done the same. She has a great post over there about the film so I'll try not repeat what she's already said.

There were a few reasons I wanted to see Taking Chance. A few months ago, I'd finally read Final Salute: A Story of Unfinished Lives by Jim Sheeler. Although I could barely go a page without having to stop because I couldn't see through my tears, it was hard to put down. As I mentioned, I had read the original article by LtCol Strobl. When I heard that HBO had adapted the story into a film, I wanted to see it but it took me awhile to work up to it. And there was the fact that Chance Phelps died while serving with 3/11, a unit Stretch served in and deployed with in 2003.

One thing I noticed was how well Kevin Bacon portrayed the discomfort so many Marines (and I'm sure other service members) feel when thanked for their service. Sometimes, as in Strobl's case, it is caused by feeling they are not participating in the "real work" of the Marine Corps. This is the way they feel, rightly or wrongly. I know this because I live with someone who, despite 2 tours in the sandbox, still feels that way. In any case, some of the discomfiture is caused by not really knowing how to respond. That's not to say that hearing the thank-you's are unappreciated.

We watched the film with Big Sis, who is 8-1/2 years old. That might seem a bit young to watch this film but we wanted her to see the impact of one Marine's death, even on people who didn't know him. She has struggled with Stretch's career lately. The year-long deployment (Feb. 2007 --2008) and the move to yet another home and school really caught up to us this past year. In the midst of tantrums, she has said things like she wished Stretch had died in a battle. (Which is pretty darn specific, if you ask me!) While we had tried to paint a picture for her of what her life might be like now if that had happened, we could never really be sure if we were getting through to her. And before any comments suggest it, she is seeing a counselor. Much like her parents, (okay, her mom) Big Sis didn't say much after the movie was over and tried to act like she wasn't affected. But she wanted to see a lot of the special features on the DVD. And a day later, she and her sister were playing and the name Chance seemed to figure in the game. I'm hoping that something got through to her.

Update: I saw this about a medically retired Recon Marine and wanted to share. It's a bit long but worth it. I saw a name at the end that I knew and that always brings it home even more. By the way, according to SemperFiWife over at SpouseBuzz, Derek Zeier finished the 100 mile ultramarathon in 31 hours, 03 minutes and 21 seconds. And he wasn't supposed to be able to walk without the assistance of a cane?

weekend wrap-up

Saturday was L'il Sis' birthday bash. The one I've spent the past 2 weeks stressing over. The only major task that I delegated to Stretch was to come up with a game or activity of some sort for the kids. As I was getting ready to drop off food at the clubhouse's refrigerator, an unshowered Stretch was sitting at the computer looking for ideas. Mere hours before the party. Way to give me a stroke, big guy!

But wouldn't you know it? He got the job done. And he totally rocked it! He came up with three games for the kids to play and another game for the presents (a variation of spin the bottle, except the kid the pointer lands on gets to give L'il Sis his or her present). The kids had a blast and I didn't even need to pull out my wimpy little craft (yes! something that gets to be returned to the store!).

Sunday (today) was a crazy day. After church in the morning, we raced home to divide up the kids and go in separate directions. Stretch took L'il Sis and attended a function for one of his Marines about an hour away. I took Big Sis to lunch and a production of The Magic Tree House: The Musical. Afterwards, we met at Stretch's office so I could retrieve L'il Sis and take him to the airport. I was done at that point (so were the kids -- both were whiny) but still had to make it thru dinner and bedtime!

I think we'll all sleep well tonight!

Guard Wife had an interesting post over on SpouseBuzz. The Mrs. over at Trying Our Best had a similar post a little while ago. The issue was having or not having a third child or when to know when you were done having children. This is such a personal issue and it is different for every family and every person.

But I know I am done. So done.

Early on, Stretch and I agreed that 2 children was the right number for us. We both came from families that had 2 kids. From a logical perspective, it meant a parent-child ratio of 1 to 1 (well, when he's around) and when only one parent was around, we had a hand for each child.

Yes, it's nice to hold a baby and inhale that clean powdery baby smell. And it's fun to play with with my toddler nephews. But babies grow up and have to be potty-trained. My girls are 4 and almost 8 now. Neither one needs to have her diaper changed. I no longer have to haul a diaper bag, changes of clothing, and a stroller just to get out the door. I no longer have to pack for every contingency just to go shopping. The oldest can get her own breakfast and even her sister's if she needs to. She can make a simple sandwich if she's hungry and no one else is willing to do it for her. The youngest is fully verbal now. I don't have to guess as much about what's wrong if she's crying. These are little things but they are huge at the same time. It means that the girls are moving that much closer to independence. They are obviously nowhere near being independent but they are a lot less dependent on me.

Although we haven't made the switch yet, legally Big Sis doesn't have to ride in her booster seat in this new state. And L'il Sis could probably make the switch from car seat to booster (her seat does both). The point is both are growing up and it is getting easier to get in and out of the car with them. Do I really want to go back to a baby in a rear-facing car seat that takes up so much room in a vehicle? No. And, on a tangent, why is it that the smaller the child, the more room their luggage and equipment takes up?!

Next year, both girls will be in school. I can almost taste getting a life of my own. So do I want to start all over? No! I love my girls and wouldn't change anything about having them, but to borrow a phrase from Bill Cosby, we have 2 children because we do not want 3.

reunions, weddings, and fun with the "friendly skies"...

You may recall that we've just moved. Or maybe you just thought I'd fallen off the planet. At any rate, we managed to accept our household goods one day and then the next day we flew to another state to retrieve our children and second vehicle. We visited with my sister for a few days (she took care of our girls for us that week we were getting the house ready and trying to move in). Then we went on to yet another state to visit Stretch's family (which included a side trip to yet another state -- we're up to 3 now if you are counting, not including the one we started from).


We left family and started our drive back to our new home 3 states away. On the way, we stopped in Myrtle Beach for a night so we could have dinner with one of Stretch's Naval Academy room-mates and his family. It was the first chance I had to meet them. We've been married 10 years and we finally proved to them that I actually exist (and so do the kids!). I still heard his ex-roomie remark, "I still say Stretch was on the beach this afternoon with his wallet saying, 'I need a mom and 2 kids!'"

After a grueling 3 days in the car, we finally make it to our new Maison Dragonfly. Then the serious unpacking had to begin. But there was a catch. Isn't there always? In the midst of all of the unpacking, I also had to start packing. Because we were off on yet another trip! My cousin was getting married and the girls were going to be flower girls in her wedding.

In true military family fashion, no one from this part of my family had met L'il Sis yet and she turned FOUR in May. Big Sis hadn't seen any of them since she was 2, so didn't remember anyone and kept asking who "these people" were and how were we related. But they were excited about the wedding and their princess dresses. My sister's daughter was the third flower girl so they were even more excited.



But the real fun was yet to come. We had an evening flight to return home. Which would have been fine except there was heavy weather at the airport of our connecting flight. We were delayed. Then delayed again. Eventually, they boarded us onto the flight. Only to tell us that all flights had again been grounded and they were looking for another update in 50 minutes. So we just sat in the plane at the gate. Fun! The next time the control tower lifted the ban on taking off, our pilot did so as quickly as possible.

Of course, there weren't 4 seats together. Stretch sat with the kids. I was in a window seat next to a stranger. Who went to sleep. Which wouldn't have been a problem, except I developed a need for the restroom. But we were almost to the next airport so I thought I'd try to hold it. When the plane landed, I was one of the first people in the aisle. Stretch knew I was in pain and told me to just go and get to the nearest one and he'd follow with the kids. We're still standing in the aisle. Then the pilot announces that they are waiting on the guy to drive the jet way to the plane. He takes his merry little time getting there. Or at least that's how it felt. He finally arrives. Still no jet way. The pilot announces there is a mechanical problem with the jet way but mechanics are on their way and will get it fixed in no time. At this point, I would have been happy with a ladder! Finally, the jet way was in place and the door was open. I made my way out as quickly as a woman with a full bladder can. Thankfully, there was restroom just across the hall from the gate. I ducked in. ALL the stalls were full! I was beginning to think there was a conspiracy!

Finally, mission accomplished, I reached for my cell phone to call Stretch to find out which gate they were at for the connecting flight. It went straight to voicemail. I started to panic a little. I called back but then my phone was ringing to let me know I had a voicemail. I pulled it up and heard, not a message, but my husband talking to whoever was manning the gate at his end, "our flight just landed...my wife is in the head...no, she couldn't wait..." I hung up and dialed Stretch again. He answered this time. He told me which gate to go to and then added, "Run. They've already closed the door." Just peachy.

I get there and find I am not alone. There is a man waiting to board and someone in a flight uniform who turns out to be the co-pilot. The door is unlocked and the 3 of us head down the jet way. My family is waiting for me at the end of it. Big Sis' eyes has been crying. She grabs my arm and doesn't let go. Of course, our seats are near the back of the plane. When we finally get to them, an announcement comes on that the XO has arrived and he will be nice enough to turn on the A/C. Apparently, these people had been sitting on this plane for a long time. Without A/C. But we were still waiting. On the pilot. Yeah, I could have been spared the slight coronary that I'd been given exiting the ladies' room.

We finally made it home just after 2 a.m. Big Sis (who didn't sleep the entire trip) kept saying how tired she was and that we would all need to go to bed as soon as we got into the house. No arguments here!

Back to the land of boxes...
Now, I've heard of mil-spouses who tackle the unpacking and get it done in less than a week. These are super-women. I don't understand how they do it. I actually know one from our last duty station. While her husband was deployed, she moved onto base, had her house unpacked within two weeks, AND hosted an event in her new home. Yeah, let me tell you, that is so NOT happening here. And not for lack of trying. The boxes just seem to multiply. Well, since I'm still knee-deep in the unpacking of it all, I guess I'd better get back to it...

article

Check out "Anti-War Wounds." The article is an eloquent expression of what it feels like to be married to a military servicemember during this war. And it makes a pretty good point on using the word "we." Katie Dyer was able to put into words something that is often so difficult to express.

Update: I think the writer's focus was not on the anti-war movement but rather on what it is like for military spouses when confronted with some of those attitudes by people who have no idea what our lives or our spouses' lives are like or about. I had something similar happen on my recent house hunting trip. While eating breakfast one morning, an older man started chatting with my mother-in-law and me. As soon as he found out that Stretch was in the military, he immediately started in with how terrible the war was and what a waste it was and then followed up with "but your husband probably supports it" as if all military members blindly support anything and everything the administration does. Regardless of Stretch's views, this man was talking to me. And he had no idea of what my views were or what it feels like to hear someone say that the past year my husband and I spent apart had no value and was a complete waste. I think Ms. Dyer's point was that everyone has the right to their own opinion but opinions can be expressed without trampling on other people. For one protester to tell her that she'd join them when her husband was dead was going beyond the pale.