Things you can only say to other military spouses

True confession: I am so glad his R&R is not over Christmas break.
That may sound bizarre, but let me explain.  I would love nothing more than to have my whole family together for Christmas (and every other day).  But knowing that I only have 14 days.... no, not over Christmas vacation. Too many visiting relatives and other such chaos, I don't think we'd really have a chance to be with him.

The kids and I are done. Exhausted. We are ready to sit around in our pjs for two whole weeks and do absolutely nothing.  Maybe play in the snow, should more happen our way.  If my husband were here, we would have to do things.  Go places.  Not spend all day laying on the couch in yoga pants and a sweatshirt eating too many Christmas cookies.

We're in that month #6 slump.

Don't misunderstand, I would cheerfully do things if he were here.  But since he's not, boy, is that couch looking welcoming.  We can all rest, mentally and physically, and be ready for fun when he does get here some time in January.  Heck, I might even be able to starve off the extra holiday pounds before he arrives.

True confession #2:  Tonight, I am turning off my Skype and going to sleep early.

The baby was sooo restless last night.  I think I got about 3-4 hours of sleep.  I have had 5 huge cups of tea and 2 large cups of coffee and have remained standing all day in an attempt to stay awake (snow day- no chance for a nap).  Tonight, I am so tired, even a restless baby won't keep me up.   Normally, I sit and wait, like the teenaged girl in stories, waiting for my Skype to ring.  Sorry, babe.  I'll be in dreamland. Maybe I'll see you there.

Hark, it is nearly 8 and late enough to be bedtime. :)

Nighty-night all.

Making my baby a man

I hate Christmas shopping.  Last year I did all of it online from my couch with cup of hot coffee in hand.  I mocked those who roamed the malls searching for parking so they could then search the mall for gifts. "Unevolved buffoons!", I chortled.

So why the hell was I at Target today with that same glazed-over looked worn by all the other parents roaming the toy section?  There were nearly 4 cart crashes too, because we are all examining the toys. The toys are arranged in no particular order, btw.  Insanity.  I think I was overcome by the idea that I am actually close enough to multiple major shopping areas that I can shop in person at different malls (without taking my RV) that I actually decided to try it.  I have learned my lesson, though.  Next year, I'll be back on the couch with my laptop.

I am just about done shopping. I realized I cheaped out on my oldest kid.  He is a great kid and really wants Call of Duty Black Ops for his DS. ?!?!?!?!  Hello?  You just learned how to walk last week, what do you mean you want a first-person shooter game?  I am so not comforted by your response that the DS graphics aren't as good as the PSPs, so the blood looks less real.  (He is 12.  I know, it's totally normal.)

But how do I explain that life means something?  That when a soldier takes an enemy soldier's life that it can really weigh on them?  That even the bad guys have mothers that love them or maybe even a wife and kids?   My husband remembers flying in his little helicopter during Desert Storm (yup, he's that old) and seeing the targets he called in destroyed. He knew there were people in there and now they were all dead.  They were shooting at him, so I'm glad he did it, but I could tell it kind of made him think a bit.  If I get #1 this game (or GoldenEye 007, which looks cool too), will he be able to get that later? 

Maybe I am thinking too hard about all this. It's probably the after-effects of flourescent lighting and holiday musak.

Janet Jackson was in control, why can't I be?

A dear friend just learned that her husband is going to head back out to keep the world safe for democracy.  She posited the question "How come when our husbands get orders to deploy, the first thing we military spouses do is make a checklist?"  An excellent question.  My answer was "Because making a list feels as if we are imposing order on the situation."  And isn't that really what it is all about?

The build up is so terrible.  SO busy and yet we desperately try to cram more family time in there to make up for all the time we won't have.  We have no idea what will happen to our soldier once they head out that door.  I can't control which road he drives on, what FOB he is on, or which flight he is on.  But I can make a list.  Things I want him to fix before he goes.  Things I need to get for him because he will be living "expeditionary" style for a few months.  When are we taking the family pic? (Try not to think about what if this is the last family pic!)  Do we need a new POA or is the last one still valid?  What can I do with the kids all summer to keep me from wringing their necks as they squabble?

Lists.
They make me feel like I can control what is happening to us.

I have been having trouble with lack of control lately.  We just found out where we will go when he comes home.  Of course, the Army told us "Kansas" in two different official emails, but then (in a third official email) they told us, "Never mind, you're staying in VA."  It was great news, but it left me feeling tired and yanked around, much like the toys my kids fight over would feel.  We will have to go through this again next winter, because it is just a one year assignment.  I also am banging my head against the wall with my kids.  Can't control those people either.

I know I am supposed to just trust in God and His plan, but frankly, I am having a hard time with that right now. Maybe it is because I can't even keep the family room picked up for 5 minutes. 

Deep, cleansing breaths, right? 

Some things you just can't get used to

We are just about at the halfway point.  With no return date, it is hard to say for sure.  But for whatever reason, I miss him more this time.  I guess it is because we never really "re-integrated"  from the last deployment. There wasn't really time.  And no, I am not used to him being gone (that is this week's "dumb question from a civilian").  I am used to driving and picking up and doing homework all by myself, though I don't enjoy it even a little.  I AM NOT and will NEVER BE used to him not being part of the everyday life of our family.

My birthday falls around Thanksgiving and I spent it driving to my mom's house for the holiday weekend. (Nothing says "Happy Birthday" like no traffic :) ) I'm glad I have family around this deployment, because it was really tough for me to refrain from throwing myself a pity party.

He was here last Thanksgiving and Christmas, but I can't remember much about Christmas. We were waiting for the official word that he would leave WAY earlier than previously scheduled.  I remember trying to make sure the holidays were just fabulous for the kids, because I knew in my heart he wasn't going to be here the next Christmas.  There was a cloud over me the whole time.  

Just in case the Army can't come up with any other reason to stop with the 12 month dwell time, here's a reason:  Families don't "reintegrate" that quickly.  It is really hard to create the new "normal" when the next deployment is already rearing its ugly head.  The first brigade my husband deployed with had the timeline for the next deployment about the time the unit reached the halfway point of their tour in Iraq.


I officially cancelled my turkey day pity party after receiving some emails from my husband. He has no idea I was even wallowing in self-pity at the time. I realized that if I wasn't ready for him to go, he was just as unprepared to leave us.  He doesn't know our youngest daughter at all- he left for JRTC when she was 10 days old and deployed when she was 3 months old.  She'll be walking before he gets here for leave.  He is missing out on watching our oldest earn rank in Boy Scouts and doing all that stuff with him (I was done sleeping on the ground once I left the Army).  But while we are all missing him, he misses all of us.  Let just say it- it really sucks, and it sucks more to be him than to be me.  And I can't do a damn thing to make it better or easier or more pleasant, other than pics and emails and all that.

It's probably a good thing to focus on to keep me from moping through the holidays.  I am here with the kids, my own bathroom, electricity that doesn't quit, and the loony cat.  He is in a tent on a cot in middle of nowhere.  I need to be grateful for the other things too- he is (relatively speaking) safe and uninjured.  There is a gold star family around here. I know the mother through my daughter's activities.  My heart hurts for them always, but especially around the holidays.

I am already looking forward to next year, when we can all celebrate together and will be blissfully ignorant of pending deployments, because he won't have an assignment yet.  Maybe playing ostrich is not always a bad idea.

My two square pegs

Sometimes I forget that I read alot more than most people, especially things about learning and teaching and child development.  I also forget that social skills and manners were tossed out the window years ago, meaning people will say things that should not have left the space between their ears.

My second son was diagnosed as ADHD, hyperactive type when he was 6.  He had wild mood swings and "poor impulse control".  He also still has tactile issues (think tags and seams in clothing). We are working to refine his diagnosis, because as he grows older it seems less accurate.  He is currently working with a counselor and being treated for anxiety and depression, which is connected to the craziness of Army life and his dad's deployments.  If we retire at 20 years, it will be because he needs to stay in one place. Our gypsy lifestyle does not fit him well. 

When we were first trying to figure him out, I was rather taken aback by some of the reactions I got from people, especially family and acquaintances. (My friends, I am glad to say, supported me without question.)  At first, a lot of people told me it was a discipline problem.  And while he was hard to control, his behaviors were not due to a lack of effort on our part.  People second-guessed my decision to homeschool him, my decision not to homeschool him, my decision to see if medication would help him. As if watching my child struggle and suffer while my husband worked long days and then prepared to deploy wasn't enough, I had to deal with the tactless busy-bodies of the world.

I am glad to say that he is stable now.  He is learning and coping with school (he is extremely intelligent, which makes it a little easier).  He has made some friends.  We will move this summer and next summer, so I need to make sure he stays in a good place mentally.  But he isn't "normal". 

"Normal".  That elusive and imaginary mark on the wall that only exists statistically.  It seems that we are all, in fact, just a little bit off.

Just this past week, we finished the evaluation process with #1.  He is struggling in school and with homework.  He has garnered a diagnosis of ADHD- inattentive type.  He CANNOT concentrate. EVER. On anything.  Because I homeschooled him most of his life, I know he can learn and even likes to learn.  He cannot handle homework or long-term projects.  Again, here come the opinion-holders of the world.

"ADHD is just something they made up.  When I was a kid, they just made us pay attention."

"He just needs more discipline" (These people obviously don't know me as a parent at all.  See sock drawer story from a few weeks ago)

"He's just trying to get out of it"

"Maybe he should eat less sugar.....food coloring.....grains.....processed food...."

"He probably watches too much TV and video games"

I think it is most frustrating that the small private school he attends doesn't "believe" in ADD.  Or at least that is what I have been told. I will find out for sure over the next few days. 

Psychological issues and learning disabilities are absolutely heartbreaking to deal with as a mom.  I think it is because at the surface, my kids look completely "normal".  But they are not just like everyone else.  ADHD is covered by IDEA, meaning my kids could have IEPs and accommodations to help them succeed in school.  No one would dare tell the parents of a child with a physical disability that the child "just needs more discipline." Just because he looks "okay" when he walks down the street doesn't mean that he fits into the round hole at school.

Still, people have a hard time accepting it.  Maybe it is because my husband and I are both intelligent and well-educated, so they assume my kids would be too.  But they are intelligent, they just need to be taught in a manner that helps them learn. 

So back to the library I go, armed with a list of materials the doctor recommended that I read.  I had done some cursory research into attention problems when I was homeschooling.  I have known #1 had trouble focusing, but we had been able to work through it (or around it).  Maybe it is a good thing that I don't work also.  Being an advocate for my two sons as we move (and move and move) will take up some time.  I also wonder what it means for them in the long term.  Will they be able to succeed in a college environment?  Will they be able to achieve their goals? I am also nervous about #3 (also a boy).  Will this issue arise with him as well?  I'll just have to wait and see, but if it does, I'll have his back too.

Where did I go?

This is exceptionally hard to share.  I only do so to offer support in the form of shared burdens with my fellow spouses and to give insight to those in the civilian world.


Time changes us all.  So do deployments.  The fun begins when we all try to catch back up.

Sometimes I feel like the past three years have not been real time, as normal people experience it.  It's been some crazy, sped-up version, not unlike "dog years", but with really long days.  I feel way more than 3 years older.  I am about 5 years worth of tired.

Sometimes I am so busy living, that the simplest things evade me.

The other night, my kids said things that really made stop and think, and then decide to forge a path out of the mental and emotional wilderness I have been living in.  #3 told me that when he was a dad, he was never going to yell at his kids.  He was always going to talk to them in his nice voice. That hurt.  What really knocked the wind out of me was later that night, when #4 said, "Mommy, you're smiling.  Why? You don't usually do that."

This person- this irritable, stressed-out, sleep-deprived nutcase- is not me.  Or wasn't, back when I knew me. Back before the war cut in.  I loved my kids with every ounce of my being. They made me smile, almost all the time.  Except maybe when they left legos on the living room floor (those really hurt).  I was very laid back and just relaxed and enjoyed life.  I loved to take my kids on road trips and see whatever we lived near.  We'd sing silly songs and dance silly dances.  I liked that woman.

How sad then, that when I looked in the mirror the other night after putting my kids in bed, I saw little sign of her left.  How much sadder for my two oldest, who have watched their mother change right before their eyes, from the woman I was to this stranger with my face. My smile overshadowed by dark circles and worry lines, my laughter and jokes replaced by cynicism and weariness.  And then my youngest ones, who never knew that other mom.

So that's it.  These last years of deployment and dwell time (when his job ate his life and he was rarely home for bedtime) are not going to win.  I am taking myself back.  The grouchy bitch is hitting the road, and is not invited back. Ever.

Yesterday I did great. I was positive all day, focused on keeping a smile on my face.  This afternoon shook me a bit. #1 came home with a C+ on his end of grading period math exam. They were all careless errors- he had an A average going into this test (which makes it worse in my book). And I almost started crying when I walked in to the basement before bedtime, and saw all the toys I had just put away back out on the floor.  My back is a wreck (a combo of stress and carrying 23 lb #6 around), and I just couldn't even think about all that bending over again.  My kids came to my rescue- with hugs and a fast cleanup. Then #3 came to read me a story.

They deserve a happy mom.  I deserve to be a happy mom.  Time to dig deeper.  Pray.  Stay balanced. Try to go to bed earlier (ha!).  I am going to eat better and exercise more, and seriously think about cutting back on coffee and tea. That might have to wait until warmer weather returns, though.

We are gradually gaining on the halfway mark of this deployment.  R&R is only 2 calendar pages away.  I need to focus, so that my family will thrive, not just scrape by.  I need to have something positive here for my husband to come home to, because all this time later, he might be someone else too.

If the Army wanted him to have a wife, they would've issued him one.

That's a bit harsh. But it feels true at times.

In this crazy Army life, I have chosen to be the parent at home.  I am the stability in an otherwise unstable existence.  I feel great satisfaction that I am able to lessen the stresses borne by my children, whether by dreaming up an elaborate travel plan that makes our move feel more like a vacation, or shielding them from the reality of what their dad is doing now and might go do next.  But, as most stay at home parents know, something's got to give.  And it's usually us.

As I approach one of the "milestone" birthdays, I think more and more about what happens to me next.  We have only a few years left before we can retire.  Our children are gradually entering school.  What am I going to do with myself when there are no more deployments to endure or moves to plan?  Do I try to do a little something now, to position myself better for whatever it is that I might want to do later? Or with all the specifics I am lacking, maybe I need to sit and catch my breath for a spell?

I think the military life makes it exceptionally difficult for spouses to have dreams that are anything more than that.  I know we have all heard about studying "portable" things, like nursing (ick!), dental hygienist (ICK!!), teacher, etc.  But even that is no guarantee of success.  Legally, employers cannot ask, but one doesn't need to be Sherlock Holmes to pick out the resume that belongs to a military spouse.  And not many places want to hire a person who could leave at a moment's (or 90 days) notice. Some of my friends have even experienced being shut out of employment opportunities, because they aren't really "from" that town, and the non-military business owners look out for the other civilians in the area. Naturally, this leads to fierce competition for positions on post or with those who will hire military spouses.

So what do we do, besides try to adhere to the Army spouse motto, "Semper Gumby"?

This is where spousal communication and a whole lot of patience come into play.  My husband and I often discuss our evolving life plans and goals. When he looks at assignments, he really does try to find places that have an opportunity for me to achieve some of my personal goals.  That has been tough these last few years, as kid #3 through kid #6 are all fairly close together.  But we are still talking about the day when the planets align and the kids are in school and I can do.....something. Provided, of course, that we live somewhere that has something for me to do. I would love to finally get a Masters or PhD, but preparing to take a GRE when you don't even know what state you could be living in is, well, challenging. As is trying to refresh and supplement your education with the limited options around some posts.

The Army has finally recognized the lack of real career options for spouses is a retention liability.  When we started out (waaaaay back in the day ;) ), it hadn't really occurred to the powers that be that it was an issue. Honestly, one can't expect a soldier to live in the middle of nowhere for years on end, and have nothing for his (or her!) spouse to do to pursue their goals while they support their soldier.  That will end in divorce or ETS.  Especially now, when so many of us have at least some college and likely had careers before swooning over some cutie in Dress Blues.  My CAA was a good effort, but somehow went awry. We need to continue to advocate for ourselves and our fellow spouses, to make sure we aren't forgotten.  When one is dealing with the Army or DoD, the squeaky wheel really does gets the grease. 

Issued or not, we are here. And our dreams matter too. 

Many hands make light work, but only if you can find more hands Part 2

"We came from a small, small town and three fellows in my town that were 4F committed suicide."
       from Band of Brothers, a soldier discusses the shame felt by some who could not fight in WWII

I don't plan on blathering on about "the Greatest Generation".  But it is an interesting foil for the present.

When I lived in Florida, I had a conversation with another mom that I have never been able to get out of my mind.   We were discussing vocations (people becoming priests and nuns, for those non-Catholics in the crowd) and I said I would fully support my son if he wanted to become a priest.  This mom looked at me incredulously and said she would be very upset about her kids pursuing a vocation and would try to dissuade them.  She wanted them both to "get married, have high-paying jobs and have some grandkids for me."  I was totally floored. She had been Catholic all her life and just told me she would do whatever she could to change their minds.  Where exactly did this woman think future priests and nuns would come from?  I also thought it was telling that she mentioned jobs and money.  Some callings are just that, and they pay poorly.  I am guessing artist, musician or dancer would not be authorized careers either, as they tend to not be high-paying. 

It is the same attitude that keeps kids from considering the Armed Forces. 

Yes, it is a challenging path. But for some people it is an incredible opportunity to truly affect change in this crazy world.  Within hours of Haiti's earthquake, military units were alerted and prepped to go. My friend was sent to Honduras after that huge hurricane nearly washed it away in 98. My unit was alerted to possibly go to the Carolinas when a storm was aimed right for the coast. Another friend's college graduation was cancelled because the Red River flooded Grand Forks, and her NG unit was there helping. Those aren't even the big things.


"We can do no great things, just small things with great love." Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta

The notion of sacrifice as a good has nearly vanished from our society. It is in our flawed human nature to avoid pain and hardship.  We forget that it is all part of the path of life.  We too often divorce if sustaining a marriage becomes challenging or uninteresting.  We too often mock mothers who leave careers for their family. Members of that thin camo line, those who protect us from people who would murder us in our cities, are written off as too foolish to attend college- kids who didn't study and instead got "stuck in Iraq".

I was an AIT (training unit where soldiers learn their jobs) company commander a million years ago (approx :) ).  I will tell you that I had plenty of smart kids that chose supply as their job.  Some kids had some college under their belts.  I also had kids who saw the Army as their lifeline.  Like the kid with the oldest eyes I have ever seen on an 18 year old, he told me he went to a recruiter's office the day after his best friend was killed by a rival gang.  He told me he knew if he didn't get out of there, he would never make anything of himself and would end up as a chalk outline too.  But I also saw the wave come in after 9/11.  Kids who watched it happen on TV and swore that they were going to be part of the solution.  These kids didn't want any more planes killing thousands more office workers.  They were inspiring. 

Where did they get that idea?  From their family and community.  People who talked about things like Duty, Honor, and Selfless Service. People who taught them that they are a small part of a greater community, and that they need to contribute to the greater good and sometimes it means you hoe a tougher row. 

WE, the people. the parents, need to teach our children and model to our neighbors that the valiant sacrifices our servicemen make are worth more than any fancy house or boat or high-brow career. Without our servicemen and women, our freedoms would be greatly diminished and our prosperity would vanish. 

The trends for enlistment follow regional lines.  Texas (pop:24.7 million) had 10,000 people enlist for the Regular Army according to USAREC for the most recent year available,  California (36.9 million) had only 8000.  Texas' economy is doing just fine, by the way, so the line about "there are no jobs where they come from" doesn't necessarily apply.  Georgia (9.8 mil) had more kids enlist than New York (19.5 mil), with NC (9.4 mil) right behind them. 

So what does this mean for the draft, which is where I originally started? 

We need to educate people and reach out.  I think more people would volunteer if the notion of service wasn't so foreign to them.  I also think that the only way our nation will be jolted off of its increasingly widening backside is when our enemies get lucky.  So many people work so hard everyday to try to stop them, but our enemies, the same people who think blowing up discos in Israel is a good idea, aren't going to give up anytime soon.  And they only have to get lucky once.  That package bomb they found in France was 17 minutes away from detonation. It has taken me longer than that to write this blog entry.



I worry about our nation.  Cultures this complacent tend to fade away.  Maybe it is the way that they teach "social studies" these days, but we, America, we conquered this land.  It was hard and hostile and a lot of people died to fulfill what was then called our "Manifest Destiny".  How is it that Lewis and Clark could blaze a trail to the West, but our young people today live only for their creature comforts and Dancing with the Stars?  I am hopeful, but not confident. Can you draft a nation that has forgotten its warrior spirit?

I don't know that a draft at this point in time would serve the nation or our services well. I think it would weaken our Army despite the increase in manpower.  I would love to hear your rebuttals, because I am not set in stone on this. It is a huge thing to sort out.

Many hands make light work, but only if you can find more hands Part 1

Several people, including a few good friends, have mentioned to me that they think a draft should be implemented.  I think this is a very important question, and I have been thinking about it and researching it over the last several days.  Honestly, there are people with PhDs researching motivation behind enlistment and running statistical models on this kind of stuff, so this will be a poor contribution in comparison.  I think as a military wife who sees first hand what the "Long War" is doing to our families and soldiers, this deserved some thought. I hope it spurs you, dear reader, to thought as well. 

The status quo is unsustainable. 

There are about 1.4 million people serving on active duty.  The census site puts our population at 307 million.  That does include people too old and too young too serve, but that is an amazing ratio to me.
Some service members are on their 5th deployment.  There are still some soldiers who have not yet deployed, but I think the Army is finally catching up with them.

Is a draft the answer?  For the record, the Army is meeting enlistment and retention goals currently.

The draft was ended in 1973, though males are still required to register with Selective Service.  The draft started during the Civil War, where men (age range differed in North and South) were required to serve in the Army for 2 years.  There were riots in New York over the draft.  The wealthy could send someone else in their place or pay $300 in lieu of service.   During Vietnam, people could get deferments for college and other reasons, or join the Natl Guard.  The poorest often didn't meet the intake requirements (low aptitude, criminal records, etc), leaving the middle class to bear the brunt of the draft. These days, parents who want their kids to go to college will be FURIOUS if their little darling that they have been coddling for the past 17 years had to do something else for 2 years first. Though I could argue many college kids would benefit from a year or two in the military.

The Army has already said that it is harder to find suitable enlistees.  The population is fatter.  More kids are treated for asthma and psychological issues (ADHD, ODD, etc).  High school dropouts aren't eligible.  Some kids can't score well on the ASVAB.  Would a draft truly improve our military? Or would we end up with kids with an attitude problem on the line next to my husband?

Israel is cited as a nation that has a successful mandatory service.  Here is a link to follow for info on the IDF.  Let me throw a hypothesis out to you.  It works for Israel for a few reasons that do not apply to us.

Israel is a relatively young country (though the Nation of Israel in the biblical sense is very old).  This is how it has always been.  I think it would be very hard to implement over two hundred years later, barring a dire circumstance.

Israel is surrounded by nations that would like to see it wiped off the map.  Every time Mahmoud Amhadinejad (President of Iran) opens his mouth, he makes sure "death to Israel" is worked into his speech.  Car bombs have gone off in front of restaurants in Israel.  Hezbollah was firing rockets into Israeli towns.  Citizens will respond when their country is in need.  Mercifully, we are not in that situation, although the Times Square bomber certainly gave it a shot.

I think our lack of servicemembers comes down to the self-centered culture that has spread like a cancer through our country.  Our "public servants" consistently vote themselves pay raises.  Teachers demand pay raises because their job is hard (true), though their benefits are legion and (in NJ) paid for entirely by the taxpayers. 

Some where along the way, the notion of sacrifice became maligned. 

More on that in a bit. Time to take #4 to ballet.

Need a read in the meantime?  Try here for an interesting study on the military population, here for FAQ from Army's recruiting command, here for a paper from Strategic Studies Institute about the effect of deployments on adolescents, here for a story about re-enlistments and bonuses in certain fields.

Who were those kids?

Oh, the post-Halloween / post-sugar-rush crash.  It's like the hangover after beating Navy.

Who were those tired and ill-tempered people I spent my entire day with?

Since my kids go to Catholic school, they had today off, which I initially thought was a great stroke of luck.  I didn't have to be "the meanest mom ever, no matter how long you look" this year.
Nope. This year I could be "fun mom", and pretend I didn't see them cramming their mouths so full of gummy candies that I thought they might puke.  You want to do one more street? Sure! Another cookie? Go ahead. Sleepover at your aunt's house? That's the best idea I've heard all day! 

I went to bed late (because I foolishly drank a coke at 8:30pm) without a care in the world. I was reveling in the possibility of sleeping late, of not making lunches or doing school drop-off. And all was good in the world today, until about 10am. Then all the positive energy we had built up as a family vanished like a puff of smoke.

Fighting. Whining. Crying. (and that wasn't even the kids...jk!) He started it. No, I didn't.  I'm going to hit him back. What do you mean now I can't come to Target?

Yep, right before I headed off to hit the 50% off post-Halloween sales, all hell broke lose.

But none of my children thought that he or she was behaving egregiously enough that they should have to miss my retail outing.  I guess it is all a matter of perspective.

While at Target, I managed to get almost all of what I went for- which can be hard to do with 5 kids in tow.  A-HA! You're thinking. She finally left one somewhere by accident. No, #3 decided he would rather stay home with Nanny and build his legos than go to Super Target with his sugar-crazed and sleep-deprived siblings.  He is very wise for a six year old.

Today, I discovered an immutable law of retail.

The number of cash registers open is inversely proportional to the percentage of your children that are melting down.  

Or for you math-letes:

Open lanes =  1/ (screaming kids/quiet kids x100%)

Everyone happy? All the lines are open.
Are you toting a hungry 3 yo, an exhausted 10 yo and an infant? Oh, so sorry. Only two cashiers showed up today....

At least school is back in session tomorrow since our school is not a polling place.
I will have to come up with a better strategy for Christmas vacation or that could be a very long two weeks!  Maybe "sort-of mean mom" is the way to go.

House of Cards

We have reached a critical point in our greater military family.  My husband is Army, so that is what I base my thoughts on, but I hear similar things happening in our sister services.

We, the families, are stretched nearly to the breaking point, just as many of our soldiers are. 

Many of us are focused on getting through today, and tomorrow will have to take care of itself.

This is HARD. For everyone.

It SUCKS.  For everyone.

It breaks my heart to hear of Army wives forming a circular firing squad.

It makes me cry to hear about spouses who broke, and how social services got involved, because this time the loneliness and the stress was just too much.


I worry that we are all becoming so hardened by the long and repeated separations, that we have our eyes on the road right in front of our feet, so much so that we can't look left or right.  I worry that so many of us are at our limit, that our emotional resources to support our fellow spouses are running low.

Women need to vent.  Like a teapot that builds up steam and whistles, the stress and fatigue, frustration and loneliness reach a boiling point within us and it demands release.  Hopefully we all have an ear that will just listen.  Because most of our issues, let's face it, won't really be resolved.  Even our soldier's return will not make things "normal" again.  "Normal" is one of those elusive things that we are destined to chase as long as this war continues.  My husband used to try to give me solutions to the things that were bothering me.  But really I just wanted him to hear me, love me and say that it was okay to feel that way.

That is what we need to do for each other in our hours of need.  Even if your own situation isn't a whole heck of a lot better.

I have six children, ranging in age from 12 to 8 mos.  #6 was 3 mos old when my husband left.  I have people struggling in school, struggling to make friends, bed-wetting, thumb-sucking, refusing to potty train, teething, and waking up throughout the night. Yes, it is challenging. Some days it even sucks.  But this is my life, and I will do what I can to make the very best of it.  Does this mean that if a mom with just one child is having a hard time that I will deny her the chance to release those pent up feelings? Absolutely not.  Even if a spouse has no children, her struggles are just as valid as mine.  I try not to complain to random people, because we all carry different crosses.  My baby was only 3 months when my husband left. A friend of mine had her husband's deployment date jump forward, and her husband missed his daughter's birth.  I will not complain about my 6 healthy (if overly exuberant) kids, because some people have kids with special needs, and their soldier is gone too.  I am blessed to have certain friends I know I can call- to get stuff off my chest when that pressure reaches the boiling point.

We need to be there. To listen. Especially for the young families.

My husband has 17 years in. It gives me a thrill to say we have three years left and then we can call it day (or stay in, but it will be our decision).  I had an awful lot of Army under my belt before the war on terror.  Many young spouses are in a new community with all those "new spouse" issues, most likely away from home in some place they never heard of before (because does anyone really know where Clarksville, TN is, besides military folk?).  And then they have to learn to deal with deployment too.  I feel responsible as a "senior spouse" (God, that makes me feel old) to do what I can to ease their path.

When my husband joined the unit with which he is deployed, I ran across a very interesting situation.  There were NO senior spouses.  There were lots of single people and geographical bachelors, and a dual military couple, just for some variety.  The wives of the senior people in the brigade had decided to live wherever they were (not near our post) and let their soldiers prep for deploying and deploy without adding the stress of relocation to their family.  I will not say if that is right or wrong, because it is not my marriage. I cannot say what I would do until a particular situation presents itself, and maybe I would let my husband go on without me in some instances.  But it is indicative of the state of our Army.  We are exhausted.  Many of us are hanging on by the tips of our fingernails.  We are doing the best we can to preserve some level of sanity for ourselves and our children.  But we also weaken the bonds of the Army community at large by refusing to participate.

Our military community these days feels very much like a house of cards.  Exhaustion, depression, divorce, and reintegration that never gets completed have taken their toll.  The fact that there is a huge wait to get into counseling services tells a story too.  We want to be strong, to hang in.  But, like cards, we can't stand alone.  We need to lean and be leaned on.  Give when you can, take when you need to.

I was blessed to have fabulous neighbors and friends when my husband was in Iraq.  During the deployment, someone brought home a norovirus.  #5 got sick first. She was one year old. Two days later, the rest of us became horribly ill.  I was so sick, I couldn't even take care of my kids.  My friend, who had two kids (11 and 9) and a deployed husband, spent the night at my house, nursing my sick kids when I couldn't.  When I was finally back on my feet and thanked her profusely, she said that when her husband was gone and her kids were small, she had a neighbor that was always helping her out.  When she told the neighbor she felt badly that she couldn't do anything in return, the neighbor said that one day she would be able to do it for someone else.  That now she had to take, but later, she would be able to give to someone else.  I cannot overstate how grateful I am to that particular friend.

Try to listen to that spouse who whines a lot.  Maybe you can share a little wisdom and open her eyes to the fact that she is one of many bearing a great burden.   Maybe the only thing you have to give is some cookies or a recommendation for a dentist that she was looking for.  If today is that day that has you dreaming of running off to a tropical island, well, then tend to yourself.  Turn to those who support you. 

It is so challenging, because we are all threadbare.  But we need to stand together with and for each other.

If we do not, then who will?

I don't know how I do it either.

"I just don't know how you do it"

I am fairly certain it is meant as a compliment.  But if you want to know the truth, I am standing there thinking," BOY! Have I got you fooled!"   It just goes to show that a well-coordinated outfit and cute shoes make everyone believe you have your life in order.

I really believe that you get what you can handle plus a little bit, just to stretch you and help you grow. There are some days that I don't particularly enjoy the stretching and growing.  Those are the days when I fantasize about the NYC apartment I could be sharing with 2 cats.  Cats that would let me take a shower and have a phone conversation without interrupting me for drinks, snacks, or technical assistance with the TV.  Luckily for my kids, they are pretty cute and entertaining to boot. So I continue my attempts to block off enough time to shower and live in a house in the 'burbs.

I read an interesting article about the gaping chasm between civilians and military servicemen.   The writer briefly touched on families- how a lot of us live on the installation, behind fences and razor wire and with armed guards at the gates.  Talk about "gated communities".  While I don't think that anyone would argue that military service, especially during war, changes a person, I think the author missed a great opportunity to tell the stories of those who *must* straddle the chasm.  We, the military families.

  News flash- I AM a civilian.  I do not fully comprehend what combat is like or how one can live on a FOB near Fallujah, or trying to sleep while the sirens wail, warning of incoming rockets.  My six years of service didn't involve a deployment; I was leaving the Army as we prepped to invade Iraq.  But military spouses are intimately affected by the gap- it is bed with them every night, especially when their soldier is not.

We can't completely understand our soldiers' experiences.  All we can do is love them and hope that it is enough. But we don't belong to the civilian world either.  I can't imagine ever complaining about my husband working late 3 nights in a row (only 3?) or being gone 1 weekend for a business trip.  But these are real hurdles for civilian families, because they are used to a level of togetherness that many (especially younger) Army couples have never even experienced.

How many brides-to-be would take that stroll down the aisle fully aware that her betrothed will leave for Afghanistan 3 weeks after the wedding, and that there isn't enough time for them to take a "real" honeymoon?  I know one such courageous woman.  I don't know how she does it.

How does one hold on, when one has been married 6 years and has two children, but never lived with one's husband more than 12 consecutive months (which doesn't count the time he was gone for training during those 12 months) because he is on his third deployment?   I know a woman like that too.  I don't know how she does it.

I guess the answer is that we, the military spouses, only belong to each other.  We reside on some little spit of land between civilian and military, where we take care of each other the very best that we can.

How do any of us do it?  Together, or not at all.

I was in a hole. I have since found a shovel and started digging.

I have only met one or two truly starry-eyed optimists.  People who really thought that things were always just great!  I long for a sip of whatever they were drinking.

I am a hope for the best, plan for the worst/ "hope is not a course of action" kind of girl.  Unkind people would say I am a bit of a control freak. Maybe with all of the crazy changes throughout my life, having my books alphabetized by author within a subject area is just how I cope.  Children and people who like control are like oil and water, by the way.  Unless you can cede control in some areas and just accept it as how life is.  Fortunately, I have done fairly well at that.  I will confess to trying to force some kind of BAG on my boys (that's Barracks Arrangement Guide for those who could fold (or not) their socks which ever way they wanted to in college).  Forgive me for thinking that socks should all be in one drawer, and why on earth would it be the middle one?  I think they belong in the top drawer, but bottom drawer works too. #2 pointed out that his feet were on the bottom, so that is where he wanted his socks.  Logical. I can work with that.

So, my day to day existence is pretty much chaos.  You get used to it. But sometimes I think, "How the heck can this all happen to one person? And why I am the lucky son of a gun?"  I am blessed in so many ways (no terminal illnesses, severe handicaps, etc), but sometimes it feels like death by a thousand cuts.  Now that I think about it, company command felt a lot like this too.

This week we had multiple sick people (including me) with TWO different ailments.  I am grateful that I only participated in the upper-respiratory one.  I somehow picked up a sharp piece of metal in my tire.  I lost a credit card for a few hours, only to eventually find it in the jeans in the washing machine.  #5 fell off the front step and got a scrape on her face. (This is the same kid that sported a shiner from running into something in TX.  I have always worried that my kids will get me investigated by CPS because they like to watch the sibling that is in pursuit as they try to run away.) If I get any more emails from #1's teachers, I may just cry. My husband fell off the face of the earth for a few days without warning (testing my nerves, I guess).

Staying centered is a HUGE challenge lately.  Anyone who has been in a hurricane (I did 3 during my 2 years in FL- who's the lucky girl?), can tell you how very loud it is. And how, after several hours, you just want to get away from that sound.  That is where I am today. Loud winds around me and I am trying to find the quiet spot in my head.  I started yoga again- it used to get me some strange looks in college, but I guess you don't expect to see people in a shoulder stand when you walk into the room.   I find child's pose most comforting lately. #5 likes to try it with me, but soon switches to doing front rolls and kicking me in the head as she lands.  Lots of deep breaths and warm beverages. Maybe it won't rain this week and we can take the stroller out for a run.

After the first day of fighting at Shiloh, Sherman told Grant,"We've had the devil's own day, haven't we?" Grant replied, "Yes. Lick 'em tomorrow, though."

Me too, General.

A rescue heart

I absolutely love animals. Well, okay, maybe I am not an equal opportunity animal lover.  I prefer furry, non-rodent types.  My son wants a snake, and was told to read his apartment lease carefully so that he can get one when he moves out.  I don't mind snakes (or frogs for that matter) but they aren't companions, like cats or dogs.

A cat lives with us.  Other families that share their home with a cat understand that cats are pets you never really own.  They just tolerate you because you feed them. My cat, Denali, is absolutely insane but quintessentially feline. She loves you on her terms, will sit on your lap if she wants to, and reserves the right to stalk your feet if she happens to be hiding under the bed.  She has a great purr- which is one of my most favorite sounds.  A good loud purr makes me feel like everything is right in the world.  It's just so relaxing...ahhhhh.  She is also an outstanding hunter of mice, crickets, tree frogs, anoles, chipmunks, birds, and baby squirrels. She was staking out the rabbit burrow in the yard, but I don't think she did anything more than that.  In NY, I had one of the few mouse-free homes in Stony I housing area, and would offer to lend the cat to my neighbors.  She isn't particularly big and no one believes that she is about 10.  We aren't 100% sure of her age because she was adopted from the Ft Lee Vet Clinic's shelter. 

Okay, so maybe I am a sucker for strays.

Denali was an insane 18 month old thing, most likely feral and on the small side.  For the record, I wanted to adopt a medium-coated cat that looked more tranquil, but my husband convinced me that short hair was the way to go (he was right- read on to Shaw's story).  She was litter box trained, which is the only thing that made the relationship work initially.  Our dog (Murphy, RIP) would watch the cat run around and jump on things with what looked like amusement, coupled with confusion about what the hell was going on.  Denali would try to run, but we had wood floors, so she didn't have any traction and slid out on corners. Yes, I laughed- especially that time she actually slid into a wall.  One day, she ran down the stairs, across the LR/DR and jumped into the wastebasket we kept under our desk.  She stayed in there for about 30 minutes, then hopped out and casually strolled into the kitchen for some food. Loony, no?

Murphy (our black lab/something mix) was a stray as well. She wandered into our yard in Clarksville, TN and was halfway to starved with BBs under her skin and a collar two sizes too small.  I swear I was only going to keep her until we could find her a good home.  I was working and pregnant with #2, #1 was only 19 months old. I did not need this dog. But Murphy was so sweet to the kids and scared of everything else....well, needless to say she still lived with us when she died shortly after #5 was born in 2007.  It broke my heart and I actually mourned the silly dog. #1 was very upset also.  He felt bad that he called her a dumb dog sometimes and thought he should have been nicer to her.  Bunch of saps, we are.

When we moved to TX, I adopted a Lab from a rescue.  She was returned to rescue and now works for DEA as a drug dog.  She was very smart and energetic, but my kids made her anxious.  I researched breeds and met lots of dogs. I ended up adopting a cat (that makes 2) that my friend found in her yard.  He was old, dirty, long-haired, declawed and just pitiful.  I named him Shawangunk (Shaw or Gunky for short).  Shaw was the first cat I ever put in a sink and washed, which is where "declawed" came in handy.  He had an ENDLESS supply of hair and I would just comb and comb and comb that cat until I had a cat-sized ball of fur. Then I would flip the cat over and brush his other side.  It did keep me busy while my husband was in Iraq- at least I had a cat to groom while I watched TV at night.  I was grateful my husband insisted on a short hair cat all those years ago when I brought home Denali.  Shaw lived with us for 19 months, until his body really went to pot and we had to have him put down.

During this time, I worked with an Austin rescue to pull 2 fabulous dogs from the Killeen shelter (a Border/ Pyrenees mix and an Aussie/Sheltie mix).  My heart broke every time I heard of dogs being abandoned because people did not educate themselves fully about a particular breed and (even worse!) the person that sold the dog didn't take the time to educate them.  I eventually decided to volunteer with the Golden Retriever rescue. 

Since I have a lot of kids and not all that much free time,  I was happy to find things I could do.  I did phone interviews with prospective adoptive families and I checked the rescue's voice mail for a week from time to time, and we were on a list of approved foster homes for dogs awaiting adoption.  The voice mail was known as the "hotline" because people could call anytime to leave us a message.  Too often, it was a call from a GR owner that wanted to surrender his or her dog.  When I first signed up for hotline, another volunteer (who did an amazing amount of things for the dogs) said that I must have a true "rescue heart" to do that.  After my first week on hotline, I figured out what she meant. 

There were a record number of surrenders that first week.  One woman I spoke with for almost an hour, because she was so heartbroken to surrender her dog, but a neighbor was trying to poison it.  There was the dog alone in the yard of an empty house in the summertime, whose owners left it when they moved away. There was the woman who spoke of surrendering the dog like one might talk about getting rid of a couch. 

A rescue heart:
I was not there to condemn or judge the surrendering owner.
I didn't let the dog's current quality of life get me down. 
I knew that the dog, once we had it in our custody, was going to get the best care and most love the volunteers (and vets) could provide. 
I worried more about dogs left on country roads, or stuck in the pound and sharing a cage with an agressive dog (like the border/pyr mix I got into rescue).


I feel the same way about kids.  It's kind of a "let's take them all home" feeling.  If I didn't have six young kids, I would seriously consider being a foster parent. Maybe I'll do it when mine get older.  My big, liberal-sounding, save-the-world pipe dream is to open a school.  I'm not sure if it would have to be private or charter, but it would focus on freeing kids from the horrible schools some are trapped in and giving them a real opportunity.  It could be urban or rural, but urban seems more likely. I would require parental involvement and would insist on discipline in the school.  The beauty of private schools lies in their ability to tell the kids who aren't interested in learning to leave.  I hope to catch them early enough that they will be interested in learning, but cultural pressures are hard to overcome.  Perhaps two schools, one for each gender, would be better.

Okay, reality check....
I signed up to be a volunteer for a dog rescue here in VA. 
My school(s?) will have to wait at least until everyone is potty-trained.
 

They are these completely different people that just happen to look an awful lot like me

I think every parent falls into the trap at some point. During a pregnancy, it runs rampant and is unrestrained.  An eager father-to-be buys a football for the little baby boy he just saw on a sonogram.  Moms dream about girls in tutus or cheer uniforms.  People joke about what college the baby will attend.

As a child grows, we are responsible for exposing children to as many opportunities as are reasonable and prudent. I (like most parents) tend to sign my kids up for things I don't mind watching.  Ballet and gymnastics are both indoors and tend to have chairs for waiting parents.  Soccer is fun to watch, but it is BYOC and it is hot at the start of the season and freezing by the end.  Indoor swimming is fabulous, but outdoor swimming runs into the heat and seating issue again.  I loathe football, hence, no one plays football.  Hockey is expensive and hard to find in the south.  You guessed it, no one plays hockey either.

Call me cold and unfeeling, but I don't feel even a teeny tiny bit bad.  I only got to take ballet because it was down the street.  My single working mom (for most of my childhood, anyway) was not going to come home from a long day at work to schlep me to activities.  I let my kids do scouts and 1 other thing and that is it. There are six of them, for crying out loud. I have to make dinner at some point.

If only our children's interests closely patterned our own. But God has a sense of humor, so He gives you kids that look like you, but that is where the resemblance ends.

Take #1 (please... no, jk).  He is 12 and in 7th grade. He may be in 7th grade for the rest of his life at the rate he is going.  He "doesn't find school all that interesting." Oh? Well, in that case, just sit in front of the TV for the rest of your life.

He has gotten 3 progress reports, which means he has less than a C or is not turning in work in THREE subjects.  Oy vey.  The kicker, of course, is that he is quite intelligent, but is a disorganized mess and just can't seem to turn in homework. And I just can't relate to him on this subject.  I have thoroughly  enjoyed learning stuff since I can remember. Maybe my curriculum was empirically more interesting, but he is giving me excuses I didn't pull out until Calculus 2 (ie. "I don't actually need to know this in real life.").  I would argue he really does need to understand percentages, or he'll end up with a crazy mortgage and lots of credit card debt.

My husband's reassurance that he didn't like school either is, well, not very reassuring. 

Then there is #2.  He is 10 and extremely smart.  Like really, really smart.  Like so smart, he will never be invited to keg parties because he can't interact with people.  Hey, he could go to USMA. ;) lol

What is amazing about him is that he uses his brain in a totally different way than I do.  I like to think of myself as verbally dexterous.  I enjoy reading, writing, music, the arts, politics, all that good fuzzy stuff.  I have wide ranging interests, but those are the things I enjoy the most.  #2 sees numbers.  He understands them the way I understand sentence structure.  I was giving him a math lesson when he jumped in, gave me the answer and explained why it would be completely obvious how to solve that problem.  Then he gave an example of how one could solve it a different way and what one could do with the solutions to the equations he just solved.  That was one of the many "Who are you?" moments that I have experienced as a mom.  I'm sure he's mine because I was there and he has a birthmark, but let me guarantee that if he becomes a math-lete, I had nothing to do with it. He is a perfectionist when it comes to schoolwork and strives for all As.

#3 (6 and in 1st grade) thinks he shouldn't have homework because he was already at school all day. I tend to agree with him for that age group. #4 loves pre-K (whew!), but wants to leave our family and move in with my sister-in-law.  #5 loves Mommy- that'll wear off with age. #6 uses her crawling skills to keep me in sight.

I have found that a great truth of parenthood is that the longer you do it, the less sure you are of what the heck you are doing.  Especially when you have more than one kid, because, trust me, they are these TOTALLY different people.

Just because you're not paranoid, doesn't mean they're not out to get you

My husband has something of a background in psychology.  His degree is in Human Factors Engineering, which teaches that I am absolutely correct when I think I should be able to work basic electronic devices without reading a manual as thick as the Bible.  It has to do with human-machine interaction and how to make that flow as smoothly as possible.  So along with classes in engineering and math, he took just enough psychology to be dangerous.  He studied stuff like Learning and Sensation and Perception, and probably other things that I just don't recall.  I used to get fairly annoyed when he tried to apply his academia-based theories to my real-world chaos.  I would tell him that a child did some such thing to make me mad, and he would tell me that I needed to evaluate why that was so upsetting to me and just let it go.  ????  I thought I must have hit my head, because it sounded like my husband just told me to let my kid get away with something. 

The best of all was when I told him that the kids were conspiring against me.  It did not seem statistically possible to be summoned by a different child at NEARLY PERFECT 4 minute intervals. And then there would be the designated "bad kid" of the day. One child would dedicate all their time from wake-up to bedtime to yanking Mommy's chain, but it was never the same kid two days in a row.  Tell me that is random, because it sure doesn't feel that way. 

Needless to say, my observations were dismissed by my husband as sheer coincidence.  I think that if there are people that think the Cubans, Communists and FBI killed Kennedy, then it is entirely possible that my kids are working together. It's a great plan really- only one kid draws fire, and the others get away with doing pretty much whatever they want because mom is busy trying to wash all that magic marker off the wall.  It's not my paranoia, it is sheer genius on their part. If only I could prove it.

I did prove that they move my stuff around when I am not looking.  Like everyone, I do, on occasion, leave my car keys, purse or other important item where it does not belong.  About halfway through my husband's year long, all expenses paid trip to Iraq, I realized I spent more hours a day looking for stuff than I spent on anything else. Then, one day, I caught #2 in the act.  As he walked through the kitchen, he picked up some (important) papers from the island, looked through them as he walked and placed them over by the computer.  He about had a heart attack when I shouted "A-HA!"  So, why can't I find anything?  Because there are little people touching all of my stuff.  Being a mother does not forfeit your right to stuff and the secure maintenance thereof.  That is why it is perfectly acceptable to lose your religion when a child (say #4) goes into your bedroom, takes jewelry from your jewelry box and leaves it on the dining room floor. 

A child's love for a mother is hard to understand sometimes. They show it in the most unusual ways.

There is something wired into a child's brain that Mom (and only Mom) is the answer to whatever troubles the child at that moment.  Feel sick? Find Mom.  Need a drink? Find Mom.  Didn't put away your shoes and now you can't find them? Find Mom instead, because all that estrogen has given her the ability to know the precise location of EVERY SINGLE ITEM owned by every member of the family. Never mind that I have 5 single earrings that I am holding on to in case the mate reappears.  I think one of the best stories I have heard that proves this point was from my dear friend and neighbor.  Since her husband was at home, sitting in the living room and watching TV, she decided to go upstairs for a shower.  One of their children came in the house, walked right past his father, up the stairs, into the Master bedroom, and knocked on the bathroom door to ask his mom for a drink.  He just didn't think to ask his dad for one. It's funny because it happens all the time.  I am also not the only mom who has considered changing my name and not telling the kids, so that they can't call endlessly for me.


Mom? Who's that? ;)

Jane, get me off this crazy thing!

Several kids ago, I suffered from a terrible running problem.  30+ miles a week, and my favorite distance to run was 8 miles because I could do it in just under an hour.  I loved every second of it.  What a great sport that gives you exercise AND time to think or chat.  Most other sports require focus and concentration. Frankly, that's not my bag, baby.

The most interesting thing about all of the miles I have run in my life (and I did my first road race at about age 11) is that something like 98% of them were outdoors. I have run as soon as the roads were cleared (somewhat) of snow in NY and I have been caught in pop-up thunderstorms in the south.  Too damned cold and way too hot- I ran then also.  Some people have tried to introduce me to a concept known as the "treadmill."  The reason we don't call it "human hamster wheel" is that a marketing person said not to, because that is what those things are.  I can go for miles and miles outdoors, but put me on a treadmill and I am looking to get off within five minutes.  There is no start or finish line. There isn't any scenery.  There is the lady cawing with the other crows on the View jogging next to me.

As an aside- the exercise bike doesn't bother me as much. Go figure. 

The punchline is that as mothers, heck, as adults, our life tends to feel like that treadmill.  We're worn out and breathing hard, but are have that nagging feeling that, really, we aren't actually going anywhere.  The unending piles of laundry (when are they wearing all this stuff?), the dishes, the cooking, driving, homework, commuting, bill-paying, kids' sports, and then collapse in bed. No scenery, no finish line.

 Excuse me, Mr Conductor, I'd like to get off this train now.

I've grown weary of the predictability and monotony of the days, and I am exhausted by the feeling that my treadmill is set to 5 minute miles and I'm going to fly off the back (like George Jetson on the dogwalker thing). Maybe it is time to evolve the rhythm of my life.  (See, I can't just get a new groove, because many parts of this one I rather enjoy- like my husband and kids. So we'll just morph the peripheral stuff).  Step one- everyone who can reach the dials on the washer will do their own wash.  I have already taught #1 and #2 to iron the last time they left their school uniform in a ball on the floor, so that's covered.  

But what is step two?  How do we make sure each day feels unique unto itself? How do we make sure each day is appreciated for the gift that it is? Every precious hour is something we can never get back. Something so fleeting and magical merits a lot more than the lacakadaisical way in which we use it.
"What did you do today? You know, the usual. Not much."  ???? Really? Just another chunk of your unique life- gone.

Tonight, I was watching a movie and holding #6.  She'll be 8 months next weekend. She is absolutely huge and at the top of the growth charts. More importantly, she is becoming a truly sentient person. She knows  her siblings and laughs at them and reaches for them.  She crawls to get her toys. She tries to squirm away when I hold her and she sees something she wants. And it happened just that fast, during all my days full of the "usual."  I don't feel like I missed anything, heck, I have been with her all but a few hours since she was born.  Yet, I am flabbergasted at the rushing currents of time.  She'll never be that snuggly, mushy, new baby again, with those teeny-tiny fingers and eyes that just don't stay open for long. 

#1 will be a teenager next year, #4 starts kindergarten next year, #5 will head to pre-K.  Time to put down the laundry basket and pay attention, because it'll be over before I know it and the treadmill of "other stuff" will still be there waiting.

the magic of autumn

No matter what the calendar might tell you, autumn just began in Virginia this week. 

I prefer the word "autumn" to "fall."  I'm not trying to sound pretentious, I think it is because "autumn" sounds like "auburn" and the red leaves are my favorite. "Fall" sounds so very resigned and disparing- like the fall of Rome or the fall of mankind.

I spent a blissfully autumnal four days in PA last weekend. The air was crisp and had that autumn tang in the breeze. The leaves were gloriously colored, like golden fire.  The birds had not yet headed out for warmer climes.  We took in one of the many Fall Festivals (I guess one would need a bigger sign to hold an "autumn" festival, which would be more expensive) and the kids had a great time.  Pony rides, funnel cakes, hand-churned ice cream, hay rides and Civil War re-enactors were all there for our pleasure.  It was a Civil War era farm, so there were many people in period dress running the blacksmith shop and whatnot.  Sometimes I think that if we lived on such a farm that my boys would get into less mischief, because they would be exhausted from all the work.  But my farm would need high-speed internet and need to be less than 30 minutes to a Target. A DSW would be nice as well, but I won't be greedy. 

I'm not sure why, but autumn makes me smile. I cannot help it.  Just seeing all the trees and smelling the smells and getting to wear jeans (but not a coat) lifts my spirits.  Autumn is cooking with nutmeg and cinnamon and the squash family and apples. Apple pies, cakes, muffins, yum!  Pumpkin spice coffee and harvest spice granola bars for breakfast on those early mornings in the van.  It's finally cool enough to cook inside again, so I can roast pork and make chili and soups with crusty breads. It's amazing that I don't put on 10 pounds each year.  Only because I am outside more and stay active do I avoid my rightful fate.

The kids love autumn too. There are leaf piles to jump in.  The bugs are all dead.  It is the perfect weather to ride bikes or play sports.  No more heat and humidity, so no one is cranky. It's not cold and they're not bundled up, so the little kids can actually move all of their limbs. And then there is the trifecta of kid holidays to daydream about- Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas.  Ah, bliss.

The coming winter will likely break my spirits, but that's for a later blog.

It was kind of disappointing, as you can imagine, to come back from the joy of autumn to an unseasonably warm 90 (!!!) degrees here in Manassas on Columbus Day(!!!).  Getting out of the car was kind of like the part of the movie Nemo, where Marlin realizes he is about to be eaten by the glowing fish and says, "Good feeling's gone." Ugh. Back to humidity and heat and a sticky house. Au revoir, cool, fresh air.  Hello, A/C. 

This weekend made up for it.  I could finally smell it. Autumn!!! The trees are changing. The air is cool. My kids are outside and happy.  I am relishing every glorious moment, because winter will be here all too soon.

When I grow up, I want to be.....

I envy my niece. She wants to be a vet and is very driven to get into vet school and achieve her dream.  She has wanted to be a vet since I started dating my husband (her uncle) 13+ years ago.  I can honestly say that, as a child,  I wanted to be about everything for 15 minutes or so. I have wanted to be a pilot, veterinarian (until I found out what they really do), teacher, writer, musician, lawyer, vulcanologist, geologist, paleontologist, storm chaser, chemist, and president.

Have your kids ever made you watch (or read) Olivia?  The pig who wears red and has a great imagination?  My life plans kind of looked like hers.  Very non-specific.  Even when I got to college and decided to major in history, people would ask me what I wanted to do.  This was usually asked in a condescending voice and by those with business degrees (or something else "useful"). "And what do you plan on doing once you have your degree in history?" Like I majored in underwater basket weaving or something.  Depending on the person inquiring, I either told them I would teach, go to law school, or "I don't know, but I have to serve 5 years in the Army first, so I'll have time to think about it." I never told them that I settled on history because they offered to send me to Europe, and the English department was too far of a walk from where I lived.

Just between you, me and the entire internet- stay-at-home mom never even entered into my mind.

I live my life open to the possibilities that could be just around the corner (or at the next duty station).  I have taken the LSAT, GRE, and am about to take the VCLA and Praxis2 in two subjects.  I have reviewed Trigonometry AND Shakespeare, because I am not sure which subject I might get hired to teach.  I'm probably going to seek certification in "Social Studies," which is a huge mish-mash of history, geography, economics, and political correctness.  I'm not sure the other "social studies" teachers will care for me.  ;)

I attempted to learn how to knit, which is significantly harder to do than the ladies on the ferry made it look.  I did manage to tie the needles together in a big knot (which cracked up everyone around me and made me laugh so hard that I cried) and, eventually, I made a 2"x2" square.  I saved it, so I can show the kids that I tried, but will never be able to knit my grandkids booties (or anything else).  I learned how to sew, which was easy because I bought a really smart sewing machine.  When you have a Boy Scout and a Cub Scout, this is a very useful skill.  I have brushed up on my Spanish (surprisingly useful here in NoVa).  I would like to learn Arabic, just to see if I can. I homeschooled for 7 years and did extensive research into learning and teaching styles.

That makes me tired just reading it.  But please don't be impressed.  That's not my point at all.

Where exactly has all this taken me?  Ummmm, so far- my living room, where I put together Olivia puzzles with #5 (3 yo girl).

I like to blame the Army and our itinerant lifestyle for my lack of direction, but that's just an excuse.  Tonight, after swapping emails with my beloved, I realized that I have been meandering pretty much my whole life.  I don't understand it, but I sometimes wish I could be like those people who always wanted to be a doctor or musician or ANYTHING, and have spent their life in pursuit of their goal.  I set small goals, and usually achieve them (see knitting story above for one of many notable exceptions), but WOW to live your life with that kind of focus.  On the other hand, I feel bad for those who fall short.  What if you always wanted to be a doctor, but can't get into or through med school?  The heartbreak must be terrible. My lack of path has never led me to crashing lows, but I think perhaps I have missed some stunning highs along the way.

Is it a legitimate life goal is to dabble in as many things as you can before you die? How do I foster big life goals in my kids when I still don't know what I'll be when I grow up?  My sons both want to be specific things (#1- chef, #2- inventor/engineer), and have been very consistent about it over the years.  I am nurturing their dreams as best as I can, while I continue on my own meandering path.

Life is what happens between moves

My oldest child (a boy) is 12.  This is his seventh home.  I homeschooled him for a long time, to try to relieve some of the stress associated with this gypsy lifestyle of ours.  I hope to settle long enough to get him through high school, because he has taken everything Army life has thrown at him with grace.  He has earned one high school.  Unfortunately, I can't make any guarantees or promises, because that's not how it works.

I live my life in 12 month increments these days.  Move. Deploy. Redeploy and Reset. Move. Deploy. Only to have him return home this summer and repeat.  We were truly blessed to be at grad school for 2 years and at USMA for almost 3.  I have nothing but the greatest admiration for the families who have stayed "in the real Army" without any such break.  I am tired and frazzled, and the kids are too.  All the families that are on their fourth or fifth deployments, I wish I could just give them a hug.  There are no adequate words for that.

When my husband returns from Afghanistan next summer, we need to attend school for a year (never mind that we are on the late side for attending, we have to go).  We are hoping to stay here in VA, but won't know til December.  So I do what every good Army wife does- I live my life so that next June I can live in VA or somewhere else.  I am working on getting my teacher's certification, but have already looked into reciprocity with other states.  I picked out a Boy Scout troop for #2, in case he is here to do that next year.  I make lists of places I'd like to see in the area, and perhaps I'll get to see most of them.  I have planned for #1 to take the high school entrance exams next year, in case we end up here for longer than 2 years. I make plans that I can abandon if we get a call from branch.  I try to make the kids feel like this is home, while trying to gently remind them that next summer, home could be somewhere else.  We face another possible move after my husband's year of school.  I have already decided to leave most of our stuff in boxes for that year.

One of the most frequent comments I get from civilians is "I could never move."  I replied to one woman that I didn't think I could NOT move at this point.  I grew up in one city, but have forgotten what that was like.  To have friends that weren't going to scatter to the wind within 24 months.  Not to be the last person in your social circle left at a particular duty station.  To never experience looking around and seeing that everyone you met when you arrived has left, and thinking it must be time to go also.  I shared with an Army brat/ former Marine that I sometimes worried that I had perfected not putting down roots, and would not be able to do so when this Army adventure was over.  Would I ever unpack the china?  Buy curtains that actually fit the windows?  Select a couch that only fit in this particular family room, that would be an absolute bear to ever get back out of the house? Can my oldest sons, whose lives will be forever shaped by being the sons of a soldier, learn these skills too? 

The hardest thing for civilians to understand is that, until high school reared its ugly head, I rather enjoyed moving around the country.  My kids have been EVERYWHERE. I love road trips and I am big into stopping at interesting places that we happen past.  I was outvoted on touring Vicksburg battlefield last time we moved, but I think if we pass it again, I might win.  I'm not sure how to share that with people who cannot concieve of ever leaving their hometown, or allowing some faceless bureaucracy decide what will happen next in their lives.

Don't feel bad for me.  It's been a heck of a ride.

Home is where the Army sends you!

Fort Lewis, WA

Fort Campbell, KY

Fort Lee, VA

Orlando, FL

West Point, NY

Fort Hood, TX

Manassas, VA

Ah, the vanity of it all

I have decided to join the world of blogging- another voice shouting in a crowded room.  I hope that it will clear the things from my mind and entertain or enlighten anyone that happens to read it. 

I have always enjoyed blank pieces of paper.  They are just waiting to be filled with ideas and thoughts of all kinds, some fabulous and some mundane.  All the great literary works, my son's homework, and my grocery list all started out blank.  I look forward to seeing where this goes.  My mind moves from topic to topic, like the high-bounce balls my kids love.  They figured out that if one throws a high-bounce ball in a smaller, closed room (say, the master bath), it will be a rip-roaring good time.  At least, until I notice the house is quiet and find out what they are doing.




My husband is serving in Afghanistan and we are in Virginia.  I decided to move here for the family support, as #6 was only 3.5 months when he left.  I'm very glad I did.  Sometimes, Mom is just not enough. I also am blessed to have friends from other places here- Army people.  People who speak my language of waiting and EML and PCS and dwell time.  I was delighted to spend a good hour on the phone with a dear friend that I hadn't spoken to since we graduated college.  I know, how good of a friend can she be after 13 years? Well, when you specialize in moving every 24 months and your friends do the same, you find that the best friends are the ones you can still gab with all those years later. I am blessed to have those kinds of people in my life.