Would you want your child to serve?

On Veteran's Day I received a sweet note from a friend - she thanked me (back in the day I was in the Army) and my husband for serving, as well as a handful of her other military (or former military) friends.  My friend mentioned that she would be very proud if any of her sons (she has 3) ever joined the military.

Two of the other recipients of this note from my friend did a "reply all" and I was surprised at their reaction to my friend mentioning her sons ever possibly joining the military.

But You're Right Here

I find myself in a frustrating situation this week.  My husband, who is deployed, has come back to the States for some sort of training.  He's here, in this country.  In my deployment warped brain, this means that I should be able to talk to him, email, or generally make contact more easily than when he's far, far away.

Unfortunately, that isn't always true.  Yes, he's here, but he's working.  And he's jet-lagged.  And he may or may not have a decent internet connection.  And he can't call our home phone from his cell phone because the kids would see it on the caller ID and know that he's here.

I'm having a hard time not getting irritated by this.  For goodness sake, you're only four hours away.  I should be able to pick up the phone and talk to you.  Or hop on the computer and find you online.

It is amazing how ones perception gets warped.  I think a lot of it is due to the great communications that we have available to us, both during deployment and in general.  The expectation of communication is so high now.  Remember what life was like before cell phones?  And the internet?  I might not have even known that he was here in the States. 

But I do know.  And I'm cranky.

When I Want It To Be His Fault

It had been two weeks since the last telephone call with my husband, and I was starting to get antsy.  Even though I knew he was fine -- he finally emailed and explained that the phones had been on the fritz -- I just desperately wanted to hear his voice.  I traveled to visit his parents for the week, and we were certain he'd call sometime while I was visiting so he could talk to everyone.  But no call came.

As I was waiting for my plane, I held my phone in my hand.  I just wanted it to ring so badly.  I boarded the 9:30 flight and finally shut off the phone.

When I landed, there was a voicemail from my husband.  Left at 9:28.

And the stupid thing was that I got mad at him over it.

I Don't Want to Be That Person

I've had a bit of a conundrum this deployment that has me seriously sensitive to my own behavior. 

What it boils down to is this, "To Tell or Not to Tell?" 

The Angry Stage of Deployment

I was chatting with a group of women yesterday, and the only other military spouse asked how R&R went.  I replied that I was glad that I had gotten over the angry stage of deployment before my husband came home - that would have been terrible timing.  The civilian women looked confused, and I guess that it might be confusing to them.  To be honest, I hadn't recognized it as a stage until this time.  And maybe I'm the only person who has them (but I'm guessing not.)  The other military spouse knew exactly what I was talking about.

You know the time:  probably at least a few months in, more likely somewhere past the half-way point, where your previously optimistic attitude deserts you and you are just mad.  Mad that military, mad at your spouse, mad at the whole situation.  I think it is normal to have this as a stage.  I don't personally think it is normal to feel this way the whole time, and I'd be seriously looking for some counseling if I felt that way all the time.  (That just can't be healthy.)  Heck, I have been going to counseling since before mt husband left, as preventative medicine, and it seems to be working so far.

I'm not saying that you have to have an angry stage, and I've been curiously considering the other possible stages.  I bet between the SB readers we could teach a whole class on the stages of deployment.

So, what do you think?

Year of the Air Force Family

It's the Year of the Air Force Family!    I thought that was pretty cool to see - new initiatives, new light being shone on the things families need to stay healthy and strong (maybe not Army Strong, but we have our own version.  It involves hair spray).  I can't tell you how absolutely wonderful I think it is when the command of any branch of the service takes a good look at the needs of those supporting the service and decides that extra attention needs to be focused in that area - and then decides to dedicate an entire year to doing so! 

It is even more exciting to me when I get to be a part of it, and Air Force Family (mine, that is, not the generic.  Although I'm sure we're not the only ones.) is happy to get involved.

One thing I can tell you right off the bat is that when Air Force Guy left the Army to join the Air Force long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away, I thought I was headed for an era of peaches and cream and mint juleps on a sun shaded porch.  No more long duties!  No more field exercises that seem to get extended every single time! 

In our case, that's not exactly what happened.

A Tale of Two Civilians

Actually, it is really a tale of three civilians, but two of them work together.

Welcome Back, Murphy

What a sad little TV show that would be!  Welcome Back, Kotter was great.  Welcome Back, Murphy?  Not so much.

With everything that's been going on lately, I had not even uttered Murphy's name lately.  When I do, it is in the vein of Seinfeld's uttering Newman's name.

Time Flies...

Looking back, it seems I haven't been posting much lately.  In my head, I'm posting all the time...driving down the road, falling asleep, out running walking.  That is one thing about my personality that works well with this whole military lifestyle - I like to keep busy.  And when I'm busy, I don't have time to think about much else except how to accomplish the next few hours and then when I'll get to sleep.

My husband's first deployment, quite a few years ago, we didn't have any children and so I worked.  A lot.  I had a full time job in the evenings and then I substituted nearly every single day.  And it was successful - there were some long days in there, but the 6 months went by FAST.  (Yeah, we're Navy, we consider 6 months a deployment.)

Last time he deployed, a few years ago, we had four little kids.  Enough said.

This time, everyone is in school, so I've really had to get creative to fill the time.  I'm trying to run, and generally exercise more, I'm taking a couple of classes at the community college.  I'm volunteering with the PTO, and (not) writing here, and writing The Paycheck Chronicles.  I'm pretty effectively filling every spare minute of my day.  And if I weren't, there's always Facebook.

I explain my life as one of these Fifteen Puzzles that you may have played when you were a kid - I'm forever trying to move all the little blocks around to get everything in order.  I was explaining that to my favorite mental health professional recently, and she said something that has really stuck with me.  She suggested that I needed to make sure that I kept a block open for my husband.  And that it probably wasn't going to be very helpful if he came home and all the blocks were taken.

Hmmmm.  That's an interesting concept.  But how will I get through it with empty blocks?  This is a dilemma for me.  So I'm curious - how do you keep yourself busy while your spouse is gone, without filling your schedule so much that there isn't room for your spouse when they return?

Just Another Day

It's been an eternity since I've heard from my husband.  OK, it was just last Thursday, but for some reason it feels really long.  And it's playing tricks on my head by now.  Yesterday I had nothing to do and was wearing sweatpants around the house.  I actually had the thought that maybe I ought to dress up or look a little nicer, just in case casualty notification showed up at the door.  Then I thought maybe I ought to clean up my bedroom a little, so they wouldn't see the pile of underpants I had folded but not put away.  And then I started telling myself I was being silly and to just relax.  But part of me was nagging that I would regret it if I had to excuse myself from notification to go put away the laundry.  Round and round like a crazy person after only five days of unexpected absence. 

And I'm filing this post under "Day in the Life of a Milspouse" because, sadly, thinking they might be dead is just a normal part of our day sometimes...

I Really Do Try to be a Grown Up

Situations happen to me.  They just do.  I have very little control over this fact, and I've learned to live with the ridiculousness that life throws at me.  It was always my dream to embody the cool elegance of Audrey Hepburn or the classiness of Grace Kelly.  However, it seems to be my destiny to be Lucille Ball.  On my good days, that is.  On my bad days I'm probably more like Joan Crawford, with complete strangers feeling oddly compelled to drop mini-curtsies my direction and call me, "Mommy Dearest."

But I digress.

Anyway, who knew that merely going through the grocery check out line could cause an existential crisis?

We're EVERYWHERE!

For thirty years (since I was about 5 years old) I have wanted to go to Disney World.  How much have I wanted to go to Disney World?  I would pick Disney over a cruise to Hawaii.  I would pick Disney over a world tour (at least the first time).   I would pick Disney World over dinner with Abraham Lincoln if a time machine existed and I were somehow able to secure a special invitation to the White House in 1864.

Disney World has been a really big deal on the airforcewife list of things to do. 

After waiting and planning and saving, we decided this year was the year to go.  Everything just fell into place, which is particularly helpful.  We expected a big expense, and as we started pricing things out on the Disney website, our expectations proved to be right on target. 

But then I had a chance encounter with another military spouse, and everything changed.

Goin' Postal

Yesterday was one of those days when I swore my head would explode before the clock struck noon. It was a day which called for a little Deployment Rage Syndrome (DRS), but there was just one little problem - my husband isn't deployed. So, since I couldn't just that very reasonable and justifiable excuse, I bit my tongue, clenched my jaw and didn't make a scene which would later horrify me (and my family).

While I was in the depressingly long line at the post office, I noticed something that began to irk me to the core. 

Dear Children

I realize that I'm the only adult in the house at the moment.  I understand sometimes you have questions that only an adult can answer:  like, "May I go outside and play?" and "May I have those leftover Pixie Stix since they didn't get into Halloween bags?" and the omnipresent favorite, "What's for dinner tonight?" (this one is usually asked at 8:30 am).

You may also find yourselves in a situation that only an adult can handle:  for instance, like that time when Daughter #1 shaved off her eyebrows and The Informer (Daughter #3) couldn't wait to spill the beans. 

But I beg you, please.  PLEASE contain yourselves until I leave the bathroom to ask me these things!  I'm doing stuff in there, stuff that you really aren't helping.  In fact, and this may surprise you, sometimes I go in there when I don't actually need to go in there just to get some privacy and solitude.  Which, I have to admit, is somewhat spoiled when you stand outside the door saying, "Mom!  Mom!  Mom!  Mom!  Mom!" 

As always, there is an exception for emergencies.  Like that time The Boy made a paperclip chain and decided to stick each end of it in a socket.  That calls for interrupting my Mom time in the bathroom. 

But otherwise?  For your own safety and well being I heartily suggest you take a chill until I come out.  I promise, I won't take too long.

Love, Mom

A "shot" in the back

Today was a little backwards for me.  I went to the doctor to have an epidural injection in my back for the first time.  I have suffered from back pain since 1996 - got medically discharged from the Army because of my back in 1999.

It was backwards for me because my husband is always the one in a hospital bed while I patiently wait and then take care of him when we get home.

A recent deer in headlights moment.

The other day I was working with a nurse going through childcare information so she could check things off in the computer that different topics had been reviewed and they could be confident in our ability to care for the latest addition to the family. 

But then she went ahead and threw a curve ball...

"How many floors is your house?"

And for the life of me I *could not* picture our house at all.  Such a tricky tricky question. 

I remembered the apartment we lived in at our last duty station.  The house we moved into when we pcs-ed.  A mish mosh combination of all the houses we have lived in was coming into my mind and I got this horrified look on my face.  I laughed a little and asked her why I couldn't answer such a simple question.  And I can't even blame it on pregnancy brain anymore.  Terrible.

So I have decided to blame it on the military lifestyle and moving so much.  I might be too new to the game to have much truth in it, but I am hoping she bought it. 

What other mental flubs can we blame on milspouse-dom? 

A Change I Would Like To See

I usually try not to complain, but darn it, I am cranky.  And it seems such a simple problem.  And I'm sure I'm not the only military family member who has been frustrated by it.

One of my children recently turned 10 and therefore is required to get a military ID.  The ID offices nearby are only open during school hours, and I thought it sensible to wait a few weeks until a school holiday before getting her ID.

"If..."

Out of the blue, DH asked me the other night, "If I died, would you get remarried?"

I sat thoughtfully for a moment, wondering why he was asking me this.

Me:  "I don't know.  It would be the last thing on my mind for a long time."

DH:  "Well, could you picture yourself getting married again?  If I died?"

Again, I thought about this (not something I often sit around considering).

Me:  "I really don't know.  What brought this to your mind?"

For a Little Laugh

Semper Fi Wife revealed the existence of the following YouTube video to me, and I've been laughing about it ever since. My children are even singing parts of it around the house.

 

I'd like to add something else you should not say to your wife - the military spouse version, "Honey, guess what! I was issued ANOTHER SET OF BODY ARMOR! Yay!"

 Or how about, "You know dear, I know we had been set to go to Hawaii, but my orders came today and they were actually for Minot in North Dakota."

Things you don't say to your wife, indeed.

It Rubs Off

One of the best things about getting together with my military spouse friends is the common language we speak.  I mean, we all speak militarese with various levels of proficiency, but there is a common sense of humor as well. 

Andi talked about the Gallows Humor that is endemic in our lifestyle, but there's more.  I think it is probably a common sense of smart-assery.

"Stop and watch the ants..."

Instead of the old saying, "Stop and smell the roses."

Why ants?  How does this relate to being part of the military world?

A gift from the past

Recently I received a large envelope in the mail from my aunt.  Curiosity filled my eager mind so I tore it open to find a wonderful treasure.

That Dry Spell

So, here I am trudging along through a deployment.  I have a busy schedule, I'm battling insomnia (as usual) so I'm tired most of the time, and I've had a lot of things on my mind.

Then I turn on the TV to watch a movie and I see... it.  Yes, it.  That thing that wreaks complete havoc on my carefully orchestrated overwhelmed life.  That thing that throws me into a complete tailspin of frustration and irritation.  That thing that seemingly contrives against me to make the deployment trudge completely unbearable.

A romantic movie scene. 

Milspouse Reading: What's on Your List?

I did something recently that I've never done before. I signed up for a library card and started checking books out of the library. In the old days, I loved building my home library. I liked scanning the books, pulling them from the shelves and referring to them when necessary, loaning them out, even re-reading a few on occasion. But several moves (can you say, weight limit) and living in houses which vary in size have dampened my enthusiasm for expanding my personal library. In short, I'm all done. I'll get my knowledge and reading pleasure on loan from this point forward. 

Before joining the library, I went through my collection of books and decided that, as with music, my literary taste is, well, eclectic.... Some of my all-time favorite books are Eyes on the Prize (a great history of the Civil Rights movement), Anna Karenina,  Eisenhower's Lieutenants (a thorough look at campaigns in France and Germany and insights into the personalities of those designing and implementing strategy, but definitely a heavy read), anything by Jan Karon or Alexander McCall Smith (I'd read his grocery list with pleasure) and Who Moved My Cheese (highly recommend this book). 

A milspouse friend loaned me a book by Nicholas Sparks a couple of months ago. I read it in two days. Since then, I have read five other books by Sparks. The last book I read was Dear John, and it was the most interesting to me because it was about a soldier and how a relationship can strenghten or break due to separation. To be fair, that's an over-simplistic description of Dear John, but because I'm married to a solider, this book naturally piqued my interest more than the other five I read. My only gripe is that Mr. Sparks kept referring to Army posts as bases.....

Yesterday, without knowing what it was about, I picked up The Lucky One, another Nicholas Sparks book. When I opened the book and began reading, to my delight, I found that the main character is a Marine who joined The Corps after September 11. Although I'm only on page 55, I have no doubt it's going to be a great read.

It's an unscientific poll, of course, but I've found that my milspouse friends read far more frequently than my civilian friends.

I Need a Do-Over!

At 10 am this morning I realized that I needed to go back to bed and start all over.

The  (bad) dog (which doesn't belong to me, but to a certain person who is taking an all expense paid extreme vacation) peed on the carpet right in front of me. 

When I got the Little Green Machine to clean it up, I dropped the dirty water ALL OVER THE FLOOR, which ran right to the baseboards I had been painting five minutes before the dog peed.

As I cleaned up the entire mess, I brushed up against the door frame I had painted and got Behr Snowfall Semi-Gloss all over my hair and back.

Then the evil blond child spilled my coffee on one of my books.

My stomach hurts.  I'm a little nauseous, too.  And I'm sicksicksick of grading papers already. 

I so totally understand Alexander, who had that terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.  I think I might have a sign made so people know when not to knock on my door.

WARNING!  AIRFORCEWIFE IS HAVING A TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD, DAY!  PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK!  AND BRINGING CHOCOLATE MIGHT HELP!

So.  I think I might head back up to bed and put my current DVD'd season of choice on tv and pretend today hasn't really happened yet.

I love my husband, but sometimes...

Sometimes I want to smack him!  I wrote a post a while ago about my struggle regarding whether I should get a job after our PCS in July.  I struggle with this as a wife, mother, and professional.  About a week after I wrote that post I decided NOT to get a job.  I quickly became involved in multiple volunteer activities and have enjoyed each and every one of them.  Plus, I get to go to the gym a few times a week while the kids are in school.

So last night I was balancing the checkbook and paying bills and when I looked at my husband's LES I was very surprised.  Since we now live on post we don't get BAH, which is a nominal amount of money that is no longer in our pocket.  Plus we haven't sold our house in PA, so that's another chunk of money we are "missing."  I told my husband what his take-home pay was now and his response was:  "You need to get a job."

Whoops

Something that was not on my deployment checklist, but should have been...

Put the EZ Pass on hold - that commute won't be happening for a while.

On the bright side, Air Force Guy shouldn't ever have a problem with low funds again.

The End of an Era - Changing My Venn Diagram

Yesterday my 6 year old son told me something that nearly made my heart stop.

"Mom," he said.  "I think I want a normal haircut now."

Why Does It Feel So Different?

My girls started school yesterday.  Not just a new school year, but they began their school year at an entirely new school.  The first grader showed only a moment's hesitation with the entire process.  The fifth grader, however, had more speed bumps.

I kept thinking, "This is so much harder with my husband deployed!  If only he were here, this would be so different!"

I realized as I walked from the school building after delivering each child safely to her respective classroom, that I have taken that walk alone, every year whether my husband were deployed or not.

Air Force, We Need to Work on This

I've been trying to find a Cub Scout pack for my son, which is not as easy as it sounds when you home-school!  You tend to miss all the neat-o reminders and such that go home in backpacks from the classroom.

However, I think I may have found a pack; and because I believe in full disclosure I let them know by email that I would not be very available for volunteer time this year while Air Force Guy is deployed and that I understood totally if this was an issue (can't do these things without volunteers, after all!). 

Proving once again that it is a small Air Force, the person who emailed me back let me know that they understood our situation totally, as they were an Air Force family themselves.  Well, cool!  And I felt this urge, this urge to say something that would bring us together, something that denoted a shared experience and a sisterhood.  Something like "Oorah" or "Hooah".  Something... But there wasn't anything to say.  The Air Force does not seem to have a club house password, and it can be a bit awkward at times.

Well, that's not entirely true.  Air Force people seem to say "Outstanding" a lot.  It's just not the same thing, though.  I've seen my Army brother hold entire conversations with people using only facial expressions and the grunts of "Huh and Hooah."  "Outstanding" just does not have the same breadth of expression.

Air Force, we need to work on this.

The Wheels on My Bus

School is starting again.  That means activities are starting again.  Which means I'm going to be a glorified chauffer again; particularly since Air Force Guy is deployed and I don't have emergency back up.  I am really not looking forward to this.

I cut my children's activities down to one sport and one activity each.  But there are three of them still at home, one of me, and oh-by-the-way don't forget CCD and the extras (like cookie booths and camping trips, swim and gymnastics meets) that go along with their activities.  So this year we have one in swim team (practice 4x a week), one in gymnastics (2x a week), one Junior Girl Scout, one Cadette Girl Scout, one Tiger Scout, and one mixed sport class (thankfully only once a week).  I couldn't get all the kids in CCD the same day of the week (because there was a time problem with Girl Scouts), and you can be guaranteed that there will be at least one trip to the hospital for a cracked head (a yearly event with one particularly active child of mine), some ear infections, and one of the dogs will find my secret chocolate stash and need an emergency trip to the vet after befouling my house. 

All of this leads me to the only conclusion possible in such an instance.  I need a wife of my own.  That way maybe we can also fit dinner, laundry, and house cleaning in there.

It's Never a Good Time, But do it Anyway

Today I read a story on the main page of military.com that made my heart clench and my stomach hurt - it was all about what happens when a service-member doesn't make their wishes, should the worst happen, perfectly clear.

Crossroad...

We are pretty well settled in to our new duty station.  Our PCS went rather smoothly, surprisingly enough, with a few hiccups along the way.  We were able to visit family and take our time getting here.  We have wonderful neighbors and there are lots of kids for our kids to play with.

My husband starts his military school tomorrow and the kids start school on Tuesday.  And I, well... I'm at a crossroad and can't decide what I want to do with my life while we are here for 10 months.

The Ugly Truth

This post has been riding with me for awhile.  I've rolled this around, considered not posting it, considered curbing some of the truths, and then became comfortable enough with the truth that I determined I could handle whatever comments people may want to lob my way. 

Lean On Me

I have to admit it, I ultra-personalize my phone.  With all the moving and what-not, sometimes my phone is the only thing I get to truly reflect me on a semi-permanent basis.  I have ring tones, answer tones, phone bling...  During Air Force Guy's last deployment I used Bill Wither's "Ain't No Sunshine" as my answer tone, but figured that I should change that out when armywifetoddlermom told me for the fourth time that calling me was "very depressing" because she had to listen to that song while waiting for me to answer.

Point well taken.  Although I still love the song, I changed it.

Thanks, Murphy

Here's another version of Murphy's Law for the milspouse:

When your husband has been deployed for three weeks with limited communications options so far, and he finally gets a computer and gets to IM for the first time of the deployment...your doorbell will ring and your phone will ring twice during his allotted 30 minutes of chatting.

And the phone will be someone important, like your OB nurse, so you will have to take the call and multitask.

Naturally, you've been sitting by the phone all day and haven't had anyone call you...until it matters.

Thanks a lot, Murphy.

A Year Is A Long Time

Well, my husband is nearly half-way through his first year long deployment.  Being Navy, deployments are usually 6 or 7 months.  And it seems I like that, 'cuz all of the sudden this thing has gotten long.  Rreeaallyy long.  My heartiest amazement to those of you who have done this more than once.  I know that I'll make it through (I don't really have a choice, do I?) but golly, this looks a lot more than twice a "regular" deployment to me.  It's more like squared longer.

I'm not really sure what the point of this post is:  am I complaining?  am I helping other people to know that is is OK to be sick of a deployment?  am I applauding all of you who have done this over and over again?  I guess it is probably a combination of all three.  So, "Whaa!  It's OK!  You're Amazing!"

Marvin K. Mooney, Will You Please Go Now!

Having already established that my life is like "If You Give a Moose a Muffin," a new book has been added into the mix at our house.

Marvin K. Mooney, Will You Please Go Now!

Trust me, I'm not trying to get rid of my husband and I really would like to keep him home with us for a bit.  But if the last two deployments he went on busted the schedule by having him leave earlier than anticipated (and quite suddenly in the case of the first deployment), this one has tried to make up for that by continually setting his date to leave back.  This means several things...

Stop! You Can't Do That!

We're down to the wire now, and the last few things I've neglected getting ready for deployment need to be done NOW or they will not get done at all. 

Among these is something that is not technically necessary, but gives me great peace of mind -

True Friends' Celebration

Without getting into a pity party, suffice it to say I've had a monumentally lousy week.  Having said that, I'm painfully aware there are others who've had worse!  So, when I Facebooked about my lousy week one night last week, who was it that picked up the phone to make sure I was okay? 

Some local friend? No. 

A family member? No.

It was a SpouseBUZZ sister - of course! 

A friend from across the country (Nebraska to be exact! And you know who you are!!!) who offered me comfort and companionship, a shoulder to lean on and words of wisdom!  What a great group we have here!  What a solid wall of support to lean on and rely on!  What a magnificent group of milspouses!  Thank you, Andi, for conceiving this idea and giving all a tremendous bond with some of the most incredible people! 

It reminded me of just how intense the bond of Military Spouses is, across time and space.  Reminded me of the time Maint Toad stayed with me through Migs' ER visit and resultant surgery.  Reminded me of all the support Andi gave me when we were getting Sew Much Comfort up and running!  Reminded me of the pain we all felt when Trying to Grok endured so many miscarriages - we all felt the loss and heartache.  So, if you have MilSpouse stories of support, please feel free to share them and celebrate your MilSpouse friendships!

And the Geardo Saga Continues

Air Force Guy missed 5.11 Day.  It was a big blow, but luckily the guy at the store selling 5.11 gear put everything he needed (ahem, it should be "needed", if you know what I mean) on back-order. 

This, of course, meant that we spent the last four days going into the 5.11 store every day for AFG to run in excitedly and ask, "Is it here yet?  Is it here yet?"  Today his things finally came in.  And we're at the point where the amount of gear in this house has surpassed critical mass. 

Coping mechanism, "not looking at the calendar" fail...

When DH was deployed the last time, I vowed to stay away from the calendar.  Some folks count down to the return of the soldier, and I had tried that with deployments prior.  I found it to be similar to looking for a needle in a haystack. 

The Greater Good, or the Greater Good?

You know, military spouses tend to be a "jump in and get it done" group.  Or maybe a "go and get'em" group.  (And I know that I'm making a huge generalization here, but play along with me.)  And when we have the opportunity to do something that will benefit lots of people (your spouse's unit, your kid's school, your neighborhood), it seems obvious that we should do it.  It can be hard to remember that we've got people at home who need us, too, and our impact on them is a lot bigger than our impact on the rest of the world.

Last week, I was asked to do something that could, potentially, have helped military families as a whole.  I was very excited and it sounded like fun.  I immediately started scheming to stash my kids with friends and neighbors, reschedule swimming lessons, and generally juggle stuff so that I could participate.  Then I realized - it was the last day of camp for two children, and they were having a little presentation.  I quickly decided that it couldn't possibly be that important to them, and they'd be fine without me.

Married to a Geardo

Yes, it's already been established that Air Force Guy is a Geardo.  I think he might be the King of the Geardos, in fact.  Or at least the heir apparent.  In any case, the man has never met a piece of gear or equipment he didn't feel that he absolutely MUST HAVE NOW.

So I'm sure you can imagine the near accidents that ensued when, at a stop light near a local shopping center, AFG noticed two banners near the road that blared "5.11 TACTICAL GEAR NOW HERE".

With judicious use of the horn, some pantomimed begging and gesturing, and the luck of fifteen leprechauns, AFG managed to skate across three lanes of rush hour traffic and into the shopping center in question.

Lost In Translation

If you are a regular reader of SpouseBuzz you may or may not know a few things about me.  Lest I lose YOU in translation too, let me tell you two things.  First, my husband is deployed.  Second, we are in the middle of an international adoption.

That, apparently, is a combination ripe with frustrating possibilities.

You Might Be a Military Family If...

Everyone in the family has their own personal Camelbak...

The Beginning of Not The Same

I realized as I was sitting in a completely empty house on July 4th with no working knowledge of our gas grill that, perhaps, I should just admit to myself that this is our first of "just not the same" days that we will meet head on this year.

My next thought?  I knew a place I could go where I would not be the only one doing this today.

Just Spaghetti?

Last night we had the d'Arc family over for dinner while they were in town, which was a lot of fun.  I made homemade spaghetti and meatballs for our dinner.  In bed at the end of the evening, I asked my husband if he'd enjoyed his dinner.  "Yeah, sure, it was fine," he noncommittally said.  Only fine?  That didn't seem like the praise I was fishing for.  "Well," he continued in a bored and sleepy voice, "I mean it was just spaghetti and meatballs."

To which I huffily and half-jokingly replied...

I rolled three kinds of raw meat mixture and made homemade tomato sauce for hours yesterday.  Not to mention the salad and the from-scratch cookies.  How about this: how about you spend the next nine months eating DFAC food and MREs, and then we'll see how you feel about my "just spaghetti and meatballs."

I hope he gets all Beef Franks MREs all deployment long...

The Hostility in this Household Must Stop!

I love having my husband home and not deployed. I really, really do. But, I've found things around the house are always a little different when he's home. Specifically, there are several items in the house which seem to prefer that my husband be far, far away from home. They like me. They do not like him. When he returns, they suddenly disappear. I'm not sure what he's done to them, exactly, which causes them to perform their vanishing act. 

But they do. And it's getting to be problematic.

Pre-Deployment and the State of my Rear End

A few weeks ago Butterfly Wife posted on her blog a question - should she change her blog name to Does This Army Make My Butt Look Big?

What a timely question (and I nearly died laughing reading the newly proposed title!).  Just the last few weeks I've been wondering something close to that myself - Does this pre-deployment make my butt look big?  I'm pretty sure the answer is yes.

For the record, I'm not blaming anyone, any entity, or anything outside of my own self for the state of my rear (and arms, and legs, etc ad infinitum).  I know darn well that I made the choice to eat that, not do that exercise, and so on.  However, I also figured out last go-round that pre-deployment certainly makes it a lot easier to throw caution to the winds!

In a nutshell, knowing that the love of your life is going to be gone for a year (or more) and with the beginnings of anticipatory grief making themselves heard, who can say no to just one more trip to Baskin Robbins when the husband says he'd like to go just one more time?  Of course, it won't be the last time, but I pretend not to realize that...