This is probably us.

Read about it here. We've known it's coming. Training has shifted gears for it. New tanks arrived months ago and Sgt. has a "new" job. We've heard the rumors of it for some time. Timeline had been laid out, as best it could be. Supply requisitions are getting approved left and right and it's not just because the budget is busting with funds; Supply Sgt. says it's never been this easy to get money for stuff. It's being rumored to throw in an extra drill or two a month because when they started their special training it threw their regular training off so now they'll be a year behind in that. We've ridden the roller coaster enough to know it can change in the blink of an eye. However, nothing ever eases the pit in the bottom of your stomach to hear orders to a war zone are on the way. Rumor or not...it feels the same.

I'm a proactive girl...The boots are bought. Cold weather gear has been beefed up. Hot weather gear has been beefed up. Boonie hats bought. Socks ordered. Goggles...well, I'm still choking on the price of those. Holy crap. Don't know why I pretend I'm surprised, I choked the last time I bought them, too. Sgt. always asks when he will get the "good stuff" to eat like I send to our soldiers. I tell him when your boots hit the sand so in the meantime, enjoy that pear. I'll be adding another box of Oreos to my cart at Costco like we thought, I suppose.

Yes, it's still early. Yes, I know it can change. Yes, we'll be strong. Yes, we'll do what we have to do. Yes, I bought Sgt. a new chain for his chainsaw because his honey-do list will only grow between now and next summer and right now getting rid of trees for the holy grail of swing sets to be put up is at the top of his list. Heh. No, he does not outrank me. Thinks he does but gals we know that's not true.

What's been going on....

It's been almost 45 days since my last post. Boy, have things at the Sgt. L household been crazy, crazy, crazy. I'm in benefits change-over season at work, getting employee folders in compliance, and just general work mayhem. BG has been sick - into our 3rd week now. We're on our second round of antibiotics and a new decongestant. She'll go from absolutely wonderful to spiking a 102* temp in the blink of an eye. When she's sick she wants to be held and the only person she wants is "mommmmeeeee." I've averaged about 3 hrs of sleep a night for almost 3 weeks and I feel like I've been beaten within an inch of my life. The inlaws are on their way into town and will be staying at Chateau Sgt. L. We live in a constant state of CHAOS (Can't Have Anyone Over Syndrome). My living room is a staging area for Soldiers' Angels care packages. BG and I packaged 19 up a couple of weekends ago and I figure what better way for Sgt's mom and BG to bond...tape boxes and stuff with treats. Thru SA I got word of a chaplain who has 1,100 soldiers whose morale is down. I can't possibly write 1,100 letters by myself in a reasonable amount of time and I like to handwrite and not use a standard letter with a signature so I got the wheels a spinning. I have emailed every school principal in my state requesting letters from the students for the soldiers. I put a similar request out to a few family and friends in the spring and got 2,500! That was from 7 people with basically just their kids' classes participating. BG goes to a private school with about 300 students and they all participated for me. So, I figure with just a quick note to 7 of them and that great of a response, I could only imagine what an entire state can do. So far not as much of a response as I would have hoped but it's still early and I have about another 1000 emails to send. One thing I learned with my first 500 recipients....schools have kick azz spam filters and kicked about 2/3 of them back to me. Hard lesson learned. I've also emailed state superintendents of 2 other states hoping for participation. 47 states to go. Cross your fingers...I would love for this project to take off and I want enough letters so that given the opportunity I could send one to every soldier. Sgt. asked what was I going to do when these letters came in. My response: WE will sort them, fold them and send them to those who need them. His response: "Oh." I want to be overwhelmed with troop support. Will post an update to see how things go.

I took up golf lessons in mid-June. I offered them to Sgt. for his birthday but he didn't want them so I took lessons for his birthday. Nobody was gracious enough to tell me I was insane for starting an outdoor hobby at the onset of hell summer. With the July 4 holiday, summer travels and temps in the upper 90s and low 100s, I didn't make it back for another lesson until last Tuesday...I played in a tournament this past Saturday. My company was a major sponsor and I was put on the team. I spoke with the captain and was going to back out so I didn't embarrass myself in front of "everyone." He looked at me cockeyed and asked who everyone was. I told him the people who watched. He tried not to bust a gut laughing at me when he reminded me it was a local Police/K9 charity tournament, not the PGA. Hell, I didn't know...the only tournaments I have ever seen have been on television and there are always spectators - even for the little local ones. Well, not little as in the town this was in has 3 stoplights and half the townspeople share a last name. Since it was captain's choice and I'm a gal, my partners loved it because I don't "swing like a girl" and I consistently drive 150-175 yards and they wanted me for the par 5s. We didn't win - not even close but I didn't suck as bad as I thought I was going to and they didn't play as well as they had hoped so we balanced each other out.

The Sgt. L family lives and breathes; I just need it to calm down a little bit. I know there's more I just can't remember it all right now...

Hope everyone is doing well and one of these days I'll catch up on the 367 feeds on bloglines to see how you all are doing.

Happy Tuesday, friends.

Conversation 101

I'm a pretty good talker. Well, according to Sgt. I'm just about the best there is. I usually make at least one friend wherever I go and irritate the rest of the peeps until someone acknowledges me. Not necessarily true but it's what HE says.

We've had a crazy month or so running in different directions and sometimes we tend to lose sight of one another but normally we make it back to common ground. Sgt. is a wonderful friend to others and fantastic father. He is also a good husband but he tends to be better to others than he is to me. Meaning I have to rely on me a lot to get things done. I, personally, think it's all linked to the Y chromosome but that's just my wifely theory with nothing but his track record to substantiate it. I digress.

The summer always sends us in lots of directions and this summer it has put us going opposite ways. Last night we were able to actually talk. Granted, it was with BG in the bed between us because she absolutely refused to sleep without holding both our hands. Sweet? Oh, heck yes. Bad? Oh, heck yes...she's a terrible bed partner who flails with all 27 lbs. of her little body. It'll knock the wind right out of you. But, our king size bed is more conducive than her double bed. So, a family night it was. Normally he is asleep before his head hits the pillow but it takes me an hour or two to unwind and drift off to sleep. Last night was a RARE occasion so I took full advantage of it. We talked. Not just idle chit chat but we talked.

I often look at him and it makes me smile remembering when we first met. See, I hated him; I didn't like him one iota. He was drunk and asked me to two-step. Sure. He couldn't walk straight and I'm not sure what made me think he could dance. (Come to find out, it wasn't the alcohol. The boy simply cannot dance.) It was my friends M and A who told me he was cute and I should give him a second chance. And so I did. I'm reminded that I'm glad I gave him another chance. I don't think he sees me like that; it's not the way he is wired and it doesn't bother me but just sometimes.

Every Sunday in church, our congregation prays for our troops and usually Sgt. is mentioned by name for his service in the National Guard. Yesterday during prayer, he untangled me from BG's grasp and held my hand and squeezed it tight during prayer. It made my heart melt into a huge puddle because something in him was being soft, which doesn't happen all that often. We also found out that a member of our congregation has been in Afghanistan. WHO KNEW? We didn't but Sgt. shocked me again by going up to him and shaking his hand. Sgt. typically doesn't just approach people he doesn't know; I melted.

He had helped some friends of ours move into a new house so I made some food to feed the masses yesterday afternoon and as we were driving out to their house, he reached over hand held my hand. Wow...it was like falling in love all over again.

So, last night we laid in bed, BG holding onto each of our hands, and we were looking at her then each other. We always tell each other how much we love her, how pretty she is and how blessed we are to have her in our lives. I told him, "look how pretty she is." He said, "Yes, but still not as pretty as you."

I told him I was going to miss him when he deploys. He reminds me he isn't gone yet but I always tell him no, but I need for you to know how much. We then began talking about the volunteer work I do with Blue Star Mothers, the letter writing team with Soldiers Angels and our adopted soldiers. I told him it's important to me to stay connected with those who need it the most. I know what it's like to be left out of the loop and not have any support. Granted, I was at home and not in the sand box but lonely is lonely. I don't want these folks to be lonely. He smiled at me and told me that is why he loves me; I share myself and don't think twice about it. It didn't matter, it wasn't about me.

I told him I'm scared of this next deployment. I'm scared because they are the ones searching out for and destroying I E Ds. I began to cry - not boo hoo just tears running down my face. He started to talk and I stopped him. This is what I told him. "I'm proud of you. I'm proud of you for doing what you do. Your job works in an effort to keep others safe. I'm at peace with that." He looked at me and this is why I say that....

When they were on the Haditha Dam, several Marines lost their lives protecting Sgt. and the others who were there. I will forever be grateful for that. I can't imagine being a family member of any of our fallen heroes but I'm grateful for the sacrifices made for my husband and our family. One of the Marines was from Oklahoma, Sgt's home state, and his parents' neighbor was his instructor in ROTC. For some reason, that young man stood out to me. I wrote a letter and sent it to the funeral home. I don't know what it said other than thanked them. I remember thanking them for their son's service, their love for their son and how much his service meant to our family. I'll never know if they read it. I'll never know if they did, did they curse me for my husband living and their son dying? I'll never know any of it. But, as grim as it is, I have found peace within my heart and it is because someone else's job kept Sgt. safe. I want him to do the same. That's my glass half full perspective on it.

I love my husband dearly. We don't see eye to eye on a lot of things. Heck, we aren't even on the same plane with many of them. At the end of the day, despite our differences and my flighty nature (his words) and his borderline mute way of life (my words), we've got it together. I will miss him. I want him to do his job and do it well.

At the end of the conversation, he told me, "Nice talking to you." Thanks, babe.

Stoked

Sgt. is finally on his way home. It's been a long month. Now we begin the wait for his orders to Iraq. But, he's coming home!!!!

Hodge Podge

Monday night BG and I went to pick up some candy to make goody bags for Sgt. and his soldiers since they are all so far away from home for their month of training. I originally planned for maybe 100 bags, which would be plenty with a few extras. Sgt. called and I had not told him about my surprise but then he drops on me that all 3500 from their brigade are there. YIKES. So, I nonchalantly ask him if he will actually see all these people and he tells me yes. Crap. So as I'm struggling with keeping this affordable and wondering what I've gotten myself into, he calls again and I re-ask him again and his answer changes back to only having close contact with about 150 or so. While I couldn't tell him why I was being so nosy, I'm secretly planning an empty bag with his name on it. Grrrr....3500 vs. 200....HUGE difference. So, BG and I have been stuffing candy bags and I know not a one of them will appreciate the fact I've hand curled the 6 strands of ribbon that ties each one of them closed. But I know it and it makes it just a tad bit special. While we were at Costco loading up on candy, Sgt. called and I put the phone on speaker and gave it to BG to talk to him and this is how their conversation went:

Sgt. "Hey BG. What are you doing?
BG "Shopping daddy."
Sgt. "Shopping? Did you buy any prezzies?"
BG "Daddy prezzie."
Sgt. "You did, what did you get daddy?"
BG "Candy. Daddy and friends candy. Yum"

Sweet. The days of keeping secrets are over. She then wowed the cashier when she answered the question of cash, check or credit.... with the prompt answer of "CREDIT, pease." In the midst of training her to be a teenager, we are still doing typical 2-year old things like alphabet, numbers, animal sounds and, of course, cash or credit. Sheesh.

I picked up an iTunes card while I was there and while waiting for the people to get it out of lock up, I struck up conversation a gentleman who was duly impressed with BG's ability to choose credit, properly answer the phone and give out mommy's secrets. After talking with him for a few minutes, I explained to him what my buggy full of candy was for and that my little Benedict Arnold had put the word out. He told me his step-son was preparing to go back to Iraq and I told him Sgt. had been once and we were gearing up for another go of it. He asked me how I felt about it. I gave him this answer, "Sgt. believes in what he does and I believe in him. It's not up to us to make policy, only to do the job that is asked of us." He questioned the "us" part and I explained to him that it wasn't just Sgt. doing his job, it was our family's job. Part of being a family is picking up where someone else can't. For some reason this doesn't apply to putting the trash bag back in the can or changing toilet paper rolls, but we manage to make it work. It's as simple as that. He told me I had a great attitude about it and wished us well. We shook hands, BG threw out her best, "SEE YA" and we left.

Casual check out line conversations are some of the best and I usually like them. You get the occasional azzhole who wants to bitch and moan but for the most part, you can get a tiny glimpse of someone in that 2 minutes. You leave with one of two opinions...azzhole or hmmm, okay. I like leaving with the hmmm, okay and like for people to see the same about me. Not that I'm trying to make an impression on anyone, but being gracious to someone takes no energy. People's attitudes sometimes rub off on me and maybe I'll rub off on someone one day.

Begone

Sgt. left this morning for a month long guard training. Friday he left super early so they could load their equipment on rail cars returning Saturday afternoon. BG stayed with my parents and I had a slumber party. It was me, Ernest&Julio Gallo, Ben&Jerry and the Monsters of Rock (I love 80s hair bands). Oh, glorious. As soon as I got home I slipped into my pajamas, ordered pizza and enjoyed a lot of wine. I got up Saturday morning to meet a girlfriend for breakfast before heading off to shop for a dress for a charity event we are going to when Sgt. gets home. Found the perfect dress - on sale, which makes it even better.

We got home about the same time Saturday afternoon and enjoyed some "us" time since BG was still with my parents. I got to eat a total of 5 meals with both hands without it getting cold, which is soooo nice (as I know all moms with toddlers understand completely). It was a good weekend.

Yesterday while he went to pick up BG, I made brownies for him and the guys in the advanced party who are convoying down today. I offered to cut them into bunny shapes for Easter but he declined.

News on the deployment front has been updated: Their anticipated deployment is one year out. Their unit readiness is only about 75% and their equipment will slowly be coming in over the next year. ACES are here. M4s are here. Tanks not here yet. Takes a huge weight off our shoulders but we also know that it could change in a moments notice. Until then, I'm glad we have a little better idea of what and when to expect.

"Bottom of the barrel"

I read a lot of different milblogs and one I've followed for a while is American Soldier. I checked in today and read this post. I went to the CBS website to comment on Andy Rooney's story but comments were closed.

It's apalling to me the number of people who are carriers of the jackass gene. After reading comments on both sites, I chose to post this comment on American Soldier's blog. While my words are not nearly as poignant as some of the other commenters, the message is the same.

I’m going to take my turn on the soapbox.

My husband is prior active duty and currently serves in the National Guard. He served one tour in Iraq in ‘05 and we are anticipating, and preparing for, a second tour to begin sometime this summer.

He has a GED. I have two degrees. By no means does this make me better; quite the contrary. We are both successful in our jobs and are great complements to one another as well as those we interact with on a daily basis. In our day to day lives we are pretty much surrounded by people who are just like us. When he puts on his uniform and gathers with his fellow soldiers, they are a brotherhood united by a passion, their country. Their education levels vary from middle grades through PhD but they believe in themselves, each other and stand strong to unite and do as they are called upon to do. It’s their job.

I get chills every time I hear our national anthem and my heart swells with pride. I grieve with families who have lost their loved ones and I pray for those injured to heal and continue the great journey they have begun to follow. I have sent cards and care packages and prayed prayer upon prayer that God will continue to touch and enrich the lives of our soldiers, Marines, sailors, airmen and Guardsmen.

Before my husband served his tour in Iraq and I began following stories of service members and their families, I thought I had a valid opinion on the war. After listening to him and others, seeing pictures and meeting these fine people face to face, I realized that the only thing I had was my view from the cheap seats and, friends, you can’t see anything from there.

There is so much more than politics involved and I wish those who spew forth their ill informed opinions would actually take the time to look past what is being presented in newspapers and on television. I can show you the pictures of good. I can tell you stories that will make your heart melt. I can do it. I can do it because I have seen it first hand and lived it and I can do it because I believe in my husband and those who are united and volunteer with him. We were once a great nation and now we are a nation greatly divided. We, as Americans, are supposed to be proud of the land we call home and for the stones laid before us to get here. We are now mocked by others because of our inability to stand behind our leaders and it does not help the morale of our troops one iota. While I understand our innate craving for details and to be in the know, please understand it puts our troops who are working hard on their mission in danger. You don’t put a note on your front door as to where you hide your spare key and where your valuables are so don’t ask for details as to the placement of our troops.

Practicing freedom of speech is fine. Mudsling if you will. The old addage about the squeaky wheel gets the grease may be true but it sure irritates the hell out of the rest of us who trying to make a true difference in the lives of so many who have made a difference in ours. Step back and be respectful of those who volunteer. If you think you can do a better job, I’ve got the names and numbers of recruiters all over the country who would be glad to assist you in getting fitted for some desert boots. If say you support the troops but not the war, take this approach: Ben said it best when he wrote, “Soldiering is an honest calling. So is plumbing, farming, and bus driving, America needs them all and I have nothing against anyone who opts for one and not the other.” It’s so very true and it’s so many of these folks who are also serving our country at war. If your support is that great, contact a base or local reserve office and find out whose farm needs tending, whose company needs the phone answered and whose wife could use a hand with the yard. Use your energies for the good of others.

By the article’s definition, my husband is part of the “bottom of the barrel.” By the article’s definition I should hold myself higher than him. I’m proud to be a Guardsman’s wife. I’m proud to raise my child to be proud of the country we live in. My husband is my equal in our civilian life but when he dons his uniform, he is far more superior than I and I promise you, that of the two of us, he is the one you want in the field.

Thank you to everyone who has sent a package, letter, note, well wish and said a prayer. Thank you to everyone who has served and is serving. It is because of you we live as we do.

Sgt. L’s Wife

It never ceases to amaze me the number of people who like to critize, point fingers and lay blame but NEVER seem to follow through with a realistic solution or idea. No one will ever understand a soldier's view until you've walked in his or her boots. No one will never know the angst that comes with being a military spouse/family. Every group has their followers and supporters but I say this with all my heart and soul: There is no group is more supportive, loving and caring for one another than military families, immediate and extended. We are a band of brothers and sisters who are far and near. We share the same joys and tears for the person half way around the world as we do for those who live next door. We're all neighbors and we're all family. Of all the crap in the news about protestors using a fallen service member's funeral as a location to spread their "word," not once (and if I have missed it, I apologize) have I ever seen a military family waiting to pounce on the hearts and grave of one who opposes the war. We're not all perfect by any stretch of the imagination but what I have, as do my brothers and sisters, is tact, grace and the ability to love and honor those who have given me the chances I have and, coincidentally, it's the same chance you have. Funny how that works, isn't it?

I fly my flag proud. I laugh out loud. I hug hard. I listen intently. I pray with every fiber of my being. My Blue Star flag was retired when Sgt. came home but it is waiting to hang in our window again. There is simply so much hate in our society and if only a teensy tinsy portion of the energy was put into something good rather than trying to be the loudest and most obnoxious, so many things would be so different. If my husband, BG's daddy, in-law's son is what is considered the bottom of the barrel, then I have been blessed beyond my wildest dreams truly by the Grace of God. Apparently the bottom of the barrel means I have the love of a man whose heart has room in it for me and my short comings. A man who isn't afraid to stand up for what he believes in. A man who has signed his 2nd re-enlistment since 9/11, one of which was this past August. A man who works hard to make sure all around him are taken care of. I love him and I'm proud of him.

Now, I offically step off my soapbox.

The Best of Both Worlds

Sometimes I think I have the best of both worlds being a prior active duty/current reserve wife and a civilian wife. Sometimes I think it gives me a well-rounded perspective as I've been on both sides of the fence. Other times I wonder.

Sgt. and I married while he was active duty Marine Corps, but he only had 6 months left and all floats, over seas duty stations, etc. were done with so there was nothing except base life to experience and even that was limited as I was in college and had an apartment so he moved to where I lived, which was about an hour away from base. Even during the time we dated, he never went anywhere other than a few nights in the field. We rarely went to base for anything but our circle of friends was great. A lot of his buddies dated my friends so we were a close knit family. Slowly everyone started to get out, with the exception of a few who chose to go career, and started moving away. No one stayed in our state except for us. It was hard to say good bye but, our circle grew again in our civilian life. While we still hear from some of his buddies that we haven't seen since 1997, I often miss that bond. It's like no other.

In October 2002 Sgt. joined the Navy reserves (with his MOS he would be able to drill closer to home vs. three hours away with the Marine Corps). Everyone thought he was crazy but I didn't. I was proud he wanted to serve again. We had talked about it several times during his IRR period but he finally did it. I tend to have high hopes and grand expectations; I guess, in a sense, I want to see the best in everything. Now, I'm not a Pollyanna who believes in blue skies and picket fences all the time but I do like to give the benefit of the doubt. One of the things I truly try to live by is to go into situations with an open mind and good spirit and I believe I'll come out for the better. Usually I'm right. I had the notion that the reserve wives would be the same as the active duty wives. Let me back up a bit...we live in the town where I graduated high school and the friends we have here are friends from my past that we reincorporated with so he never really had any of "his own" friends here. That being said, I thought it would be a great opportunity for him to meet some guys who shared the same interests, etc. and I would befriend the wives, just like the old days. Not.true.at.all. While we made friends, none were like I was expecting or, I guess I should say, hoping for. Most everyone was prior service and it was all about "my dog is bigger than your dog" they were Navy. We were Marines. I can't tell you the number of times I heard the joke that Marine stand for My Ass Rides In Navy Equipment. It was enough to make it real old, real fast.

On December 16, 2004, Sgt. got the call he was being recalled for active duty service. We initially thought it was a voluntary recall and had "the talk" and he said he needed to go. I said I supported him, call back. He did and 2 months later he left for Iraq. Everyone at his reserve center shook his hand, gave atta-boys and said "Tell the Wife to call us if she needs anything. Anything at all." Normally I wouldn't call anyone for anything, it's just the kind of person I am. The first thing I had to do was get an active duty I.D. card. I called for the appointment, which was set for ONE MONTH OUT. She only does ID cards one day a month from 8:00 - 8:50 a.m. No joke. Once all that was done, Sgt's pay was messed up. Surprise. So, I called the only point of contact I had, his reserve center. After getting nowhere fast, I went up there to talk face to face and was told that I needed to contact the Ombudsman but they couldn't tell me who it was and told me it was up to me to figure it out. (Sgt. was deployed with a unit from a different state.) After crying, I called the base they were training at and just dialed a random number because I didn't know what the right number would be and got someone in the maintenance department who didn't blow me off. He put me on hold and found out who I needed to talk to, gave me name, number, extension and a backup person in case the main contact wasn't available. WOW. So much different than at our reserve center. I would say it's the difference in active duty vs. reserve, and I guess it is to a point. After all, the bitchy PO1 was active duty but was used to dealing with reserve issues from their center and since Sgt. wasn't there anymore, he wasn't her problem, nor was I. I know, it's dragging on. So, we'll fast forward. I stumbled across a wife whose husband just happened to be in the unit Sgt. was assigned to. While she and I were becoming friends, so were they. Amazing. They live 5-1/2 hours from us and the husbands were half a world away. "W" was great. We emailed. We talked. I even went to meet her for my birthday that year so I wouldn't have to be alone. I finally had a wife who was like me. A wife whose husband was proud to serve and who was proud of him. A wife like the friends we had before. But she was so far away. His atta-boy friends magically disappeared shortly after he left. No one called anymore or emailed just to say hi. I did get a sympathy invite to one kid's birthday party and how do I know it was a sympathy invite? The mom told me so. It was sad. The people we ate dinners with on weekends, celebrated holidays with all turned away during what was the most trying times of my life, and Sgt's. So, for the 214 days he was in country, I lived my life as my own with the one wife whose husband was serving with Sgt. and another wife who lived in the northeast, her husband was also Navy but assigned to a terror boat team. Both were women that I needed and longed for in my life. My civilian friends are great but they just don't understand the dynamic of the military and it's not their fault. They just simply haven't experienced it. Sometimes you just gotta have someone on your side who can walk in your shoes, or carry you when you can't walk anymore.

When Sgt. returned home, I set up a dinner for him and sent out invites to his whole reserve center. About 15 came along with a guy who lived a few hours away he worked with in Iraq. Those were the people who gave him a handshake and told him, "job well done." Those who didn't even send an email or call to say hello? Many of them left in January for various deployments. I hope they will understand what their wives will need and I hope they are able to find it. I doubt they will ever think back to me and tell themselves they should have reacted differently. It brought to light those who knew us and those who knew us best...both sides of us. The military side and the civilian side.

I'm the wife who hugs soldiers in the airports when I'm traveling and tell them thank you. I'm the wife who gives the wife at the gym with the bumper sticker that reads, "the other half of my heart is in ____" a smile and lets her know I understand. I'm the wife who boxed up enough care packages and sent off that I should have been on the post office payroll. I'm the wife who rallies for our troops. I'm the wife who sends notes to friends deployed. I'm the wife who still checks in on the hand full of other wives I met during our deployment, who all live at least 5 hours away with the exception of one. I'm the wife I wanted to meet. I'm the wife I wanted to be friends with. I'm the wife I needed for support while Sgt. was gone. I'm also the wife who craves for someone in my life to be like me.

Now Sgt. is with a new unit since the end of last summer. I went to the unit Christmas party and only a handful of people even made eye contact. One is a guy I've blogged about before, the single dad whose wife is a crackhead with custody of his three kids. One was a new grandfather who wanted his 6 week old grandson to smile at BG. One was the Captain. Many of the wives have been through a deployment with them to Iraq and then turned around and then reactivated for a domestic job. None of them spoke. None of them looked at me. None of them acted like they cared a bit.

I care. Maybe I care too much. Support is something I try hard to give because I know what it's like not to get it. I went to a meeting last month and met with a bunch of moms whose kids are deployed. I learned that there is no stronger group of women who supports their kids more than military moms. I'm the only wife in this group but Sgt's mom volunteers for a chapter in her state and there are wives in hers and they have pride and aren't afraid to show it. I guess it's the downside of living in a non-military town (Sgt's mom lives in a military town).

I miss a lot about military life. I miss the bonds, the kinship and the "just knowing" that develops. I like living the civilian life because there are no moves, no major pay issues and I only have to make sure uniforms are clean for one weekend a month and three weeks a year.

Is it really the best of both worlds? Does my experience really give me a well-rounded perspective? I think it does on one level but it also leaves an empty spot in my heart that only milspouses can fill.

All things borrowed...

I'm borrowing this post...I was over at HH6's blog reading this post and I couldn't help but giggle. Baby Girl is only two but and can't shout out with the "I needs...", per say. I hear "Mommy" so many times a day that sometimes I wish I could change my name. Sgt. doesn't tell me that he needs something until it's the last hour of the last day and there are no options open. I've worked for ten years trying to change that but I swear it's embedded in the Y chromosome.

The first thing that hit home was missing socks. I'd love to hear the answer to the age old question but I just don't think anyone really, really knows. When BG was first home I used to pin her socks together so we'd always have a pair but then sometimes the pins would rust and left marks. I then used a lingerie bag to put them in but to be quite honest, I think it's easier to buy new socks than it is to keep up with the existing ones, at least at the Sgt. L household. BG probably has 30 pair of socks with less than half of them having mates. Long ago I started trying to buy all socks that matched so there would be no confusion as to what its mate should look like. The only problem with that is manufacturers change it just enough they don't look alike when you buy more and Heaven help Sgt. if he tries to match socks. I can't tell you the number of days I've had one black and one blue until I see it under the flourescent lighting in my office. My assistant pointed it out one day and the only thing I could think of was that I have another pair just like them at home.

What also hit home was about needing money for school. While BG is only two, she goes to a private school that goes from daycare through 12th grade. When she first started going to this school, she was in the baby class because we started after the school year ended and they lumped all little, little kids together. In August she moved up to the beginning toddler class and we got a notice for school pictures. Yes, even the babies and toddlers are in the yearbook. In the same month we got the stuff for a magazine drive. BG sold 9 magazines, half of which come to our house. Her prize: 2 suckers. She's the only one in her class who sold any at all because I thought it was the thing to do. In September they sold doughnuts. I did buy a dozen for my office because we love to live on the sugar edge. October was another fundraiser selling miscellaneous stuff. November they pushed for donations for Operation Christmas Child, which we do through our church, and had Christmas pictures plus selling candy bars. December they were pimping doughnuts again to raise money for a bonus for the teachers and, again, I bought a dozen for my office. Aside from the fundraiser for the teacher bonuses, the rest of the fundraisers went to the bus fund. Here's the thing: I pay her tuition/fees; she doesn't attend on charity. I can't keep supporting the bus thing because we live 25 miles from her school and they don't go that way. While I understand them being private, my purse clinches tight every time a new month rolls around. Sgt. and I are better off making a donation to the school/church so we can at least have a tax deduction. My hips and thighs will be better off, too.

Weekend Wrap Up

Sgt. had drill this weekend and other than the fact it was freezing
cold in the field, he came home in a wonderful mood. He has been put
in an E6 slot and given a new job (can't remember what it is, though).
I'm proud of him. He has been with this unit since the summer and
has done a great job since he's been with them and they will put his
package together and submit it for a promotion.

We had a long eye to eye talk last night about happenings. They are
on high alert and three units have requested they be attached with
them. Even though a Colonel was there giving a white-picket-fence
speech, the Captain pretty much said get ready to go. It seems as
though everyone is just waiting for the call. No tears shed. Only
hugs given.

BG has the cutest little outfit of camouflage pants (they are pink and
green flowered camouflage) and she wore them to preschool Friday and
all day pointed at them and said, "Daddy" because her daddy has his
ACUs. So cute. I put them back on her yesterday and when he got home
we had a little mini-photo shoot with both of them in their uniforms.
Great pictures. Big smiles. Huge hugs. No card in the digital
camera. Needless to say, after that wasted 10 minutes, BG was done
being cute and we only got a couple of cute ones.

We went out to eat and he told me about a couple of other projects
that are in the works and asked my opinion of them. I'm supportive of
them because he is and he'll do a great job no matter what it is.
They are all great opportunities and hopefully they'll come to light
this year. Since BG was in uber toddler mode, we took her home and
let her run around and she did collapse about 7:15 and slept all the
way through the night. Yippee for me! Well, I should say I guess she
slept through the night because I didn't hear her cry so either she
did or I was just dead to the world. Sgt. and I had some quiet time
to just talk and enjoy each other's company and he started snoring
around 9:00 since he gets up around 3:30.

Glad he's home. I miss my soldier when he's gone - even for a
weekend. I missed him greatly in 2005 and I'll miss him even more
this deployment. I'm trying to keep an open mind and a good spirit.
That with prayers, we'll all make it.

More of the same...

I've blogged for years but always with someone knowing who I am...this time it's just me and those of you who find me in one way or another.It's the best therapy I've ever done. One day posts will move on to something of more substance.

**********************

New night vision goggles have arrived at the armory. That makes two shipments of new gear/weapons that we know of; the first was new M4s. Still, no budget for uniforms so Sgt. L is still wearing his belt with a newly added notch and when they go in the field, he wears his old
Navy field jacket. He didn't want to take it but I insisted and he was glad I did; it was 18* that night. I told him if anyone gave him any lip tell them his wife said he had to wear it. :) No one gave him any lip and he didn't have to say, "My wife said so." All were happy.

He leaves tomorrow night for another weekend of combat training, which they were told in at the end of summer was their new training and for no specific reason. Those who have been around a while know that nothing happens without some type of reason, especially with the
military. His CO has been emailing the major on other issues and threw in there about a deployment. The answer was to the tune of, "I can't tell you what you already know." It seems to be some code. I'm trying not to let my guard down and we are still planning for a deployment. It's the only way I can cope.

Last night we took the front off Baby Girl's crib and turned it into a toddler bed. She was so excited to be a part of getting a brand new big girl bed with a brand new soft blanket and pillow. She climbed up between the safety rails and "practiced" going nite-nite. Sweet. It was going to be a better transition than I envisioned. Well, that lasted for all of a millisecond. Yesterday BG had her two year checkup and is weighing in at 26 pounds and 32" tall. She also got the last shots she will need until she's 4. The new nurse wouldn't let me hold her; she had her lie down with me at her head holding her down and she held down her legs and gave her the two shots. BG did VERY GOOD until the last second of the last shot and she broke out into crocodile tears. Since she was so good we scooted through a drive through and she got a Sprite - big treat for her. A few hours after we got home, the initial dose of Tylenol was wearing off and she began to show us her leg where her "boo-boo" was and at 6:00 she pretty much passed out - but only with me holding her. She did not want to be put down. Usually our bedtime routine starts at 7 pm and she's out by 7:45 or 8:00 at the latest. Every time I tried putting her down, she wailed. When I put her on her new soft bed, she turned purple and I thought her eyes were going to pop out of her head she screamed so hard. So, I held her until about 8:00 and I was starving so I got us up and ate a sandwich. Sgt. came home from the gym and she was not about to have any part of her daddy...all mommy all the time; at least when she's not feeling well. I ate my sandwich, we
grabbed up her blanket and cup of water and set off for her to sleep with us in our bed. It's not something I do regularly because she is a horrible bed partner and we think she needs her own room but last night was different. She snuggled next to me and when Sgt. came out of the shower she immediately chanted for daddy. She snuggled with him until she fell asleep. It was a rough night for all of us. Usually Sgt. doesn't get up with her at night because he drives a truck during the day and has to get up at 3:30 a.m. for work but last night he did so I could sleep since I was up with her all the night before. They got up and she went potty and went right back to sleep. Sgt. is going to miss that if he gets deployed. It isn't often BG vies for Sgt.'s attention but when she does, he eats it up with all his might. He loves her. He loves her without a doubt.

When Sgt. deployed in 2005 we didn't have any children; it was us and the dog. For days the dog followed me around I thought she just missed him, because you know dogs are like that, right? Wrong. She was hungry. Sgt. fed her before we left for the airport and she eats for a couple of days and we fill her bowl back up. That's one of the 4 things that only Sgt. does and I didn't think to look at the bowl. Once I fed her she was back to her old spot in front of the living
room window admiring the world and I was vapor until it was feeding time again. I didn't forget any more. I packed his sea bag with all the things he would need for three months. He was "embarrassed" that I used a round tupperware like cake container to put the squishables (i.e. toothpaste) in and packed using the packmate bags that allowed us to put everything he needed and some plus a pillow. Come to find out, my ideas weren't all that crack pot and many others had done the same thing. He had all he needed and his squishables were still in tact. See, Sgt., you don't give me enough credit.

The day I left Sgt. at the airport was one of the hardest days of my life and they would only get worse for me. Now, worse is relative to each person and while I understand that others have more hardship than I, it was worse based on my life. My grandmother passed away 12 days
after Sgt. left for training. My mother called and told me she was not doing well and I needed to go see her. I went to the nursing home before church that night. She was laying there and had lost so much weight she was pretty much just a shell gasping for air. We had a DNR and grandma had lived a God-filled life and was satisfied within herself. At church I asked our congregation to pray for her. They did. Grandma died that night. We buried her on a Wednesday in her home church cemetery about 3 hours from our town. I drove down that
morning and back that afternoon. I stopped and bought some tulips on my way down and my mom's best friend held my had during the short graveside service. I felt as though my world had been set on it's ear. My husband was in combat training 14 hours from our home getting ready to deploy. I had no children. My mother and dad were as distraught as I was and I was empty. Ms. T. held my hand and meant it. I was glad she was there. A week after that, Sgt. found out they were leaving about 2 weeks ahead of their original date so I booked a flight, rental car and hotel room. I flew Friday night and would be able to see him for half a day on Saturday and all day Sunday and have him back to base by 5:30 Monday morning. We had the best time together. We shopped for BG and he picked out some things for her. After 41 hours of just being together, we packed up and I took him back to the base. That empty feeling was there all over again. I said good bye to his room mate and friend and we made our way back to the parking lot. Sgt. cried, which isn't something he does a lot. I cried, which is something I do often. We said our good byes and they were starting to gather for formation. He hugged me tight and told me
he loved me. As I drove off, I looked back in my rear view mirror and he was standing there waving at me and blew me a kiss. I cried all the way to the airport and sat waiting for my flight. Alone. Empty.

I got home and began the wait of all waits until I would hold my beloved in my arms again. He was able to call me for about a week after that and they were on lock down and I wouldn't hear from him until they arrived in Kuwait. Well, at 2:38 a.m. I got a call they were at their stopping point along the way. I was glad to hear his voice. It was then that the time between phone calls would be unknown. I was living my day to day life in the luxury of my home with all the comforts and he was beginning the dirtiest, hardest and most emotionally taking task of his life. He was going to war. One week later he was in a war zone.

Throughout his deployment, I often thought I had no right to be upset with him being gone. After all, I had no children to worry about and explain where daddy was and what he was doing, I was okay financially and there were so many more people in the world who had things much
worse than I did. Oh, how I missed him. I traveled to meet some e-pals while he was gone and had a wonderful Labor Day weekend jaunt. When I got ready to leave, the gal I traveled with was about to leave to adopt their child and told me, "I'm not ready for this." Yes, she was. She had journeyed for a year to get to the point she was at and she was ready. She was ready because her husband was home to meet her at the airport and one week later they would board a flight to end the greatest journey of a lifetime; bring their daughter home. Me? I did okay through most of the flight. Because it was a holiday weekend, the airport had opened an extra over-flow lot and I got off in the wrong lot. Smart. I always park in the same area so I don't make that mistake but didn't this time and my mind was flooded so I just.could.not.remember. It is one of the lots you can't get out of unless you are a vehicle and the gate slides. No way out and there wasn't another shuttle coming my way. A nice old couple picked me up and took me to my lot. I couldn't find my car. I wandered and wandered. I was pushing the panic button but nothing happened so I couldn't follow the sound. A pilot stopped and offered to help me. No, thank you. I walked two more aisles and there it was. The car I bought the day their hooch got hit by a rocket. I sat and cried in the parking lot. I cried down the interstate and I called my mom. I didn't want to go home to an empty house. I simply didn't want to do it. But, I didn't want to drive the extra hour to my mom's house, either. So, I picked up the dog at the kennel and went home and cried by myself.

214 days after he stepped foot onto foreign soil, he stepped foot back on U.S. soil. I stood in a tropical storm, front and center, with my poncho, a borrowed umbrella and American flag. 5 1/2 hours later the lights of the plane broke through the gray rain clouds and landed. What a glorious day it was. My husband was home. He was home safe. There were no losses. Some were injured but none died. That was the most glorious of all.

I made many friends that day standing in the rain. Not friends I've talked to again or even email with but women who "knew" me and my life. They knew exactly what I had felt and for the first time I felt validated. It took almost a year to give me the comfort in knowing it was okay to have my feelings and it took 16 strangers to do it. Thank you, ladies.

Rambling on and on and on...

I'm sitting here listening to my husband snore and my toddler has fallen asleep to Elmo. I really should be napping, too, but for some reason I just can't. We went and had baby girl's two year old portraits done today and her daddy knew better than to think we would walk out with the $9.95 package. Well, we got it but along with another $130 to go with it. After sticker shock, a trip to Gymboree to use my Gymbucks and a quick pass through a couple of other stores, we made our way home singing out loud to keep BG up and not nap in the car. We got home, threw in Elmo and I left her to go to sleep so I could do the same but I'm here.

Every day I Google looking for more information on troops that will be deploying to Iraq and it's always the same information and the link is highlighted purple so I know I've been there already. Hubs' guard unit is attached to an active duty unit that was already scheduled to deploy in May. Those guys know but his unit doesn't. Makes me wonder. His was one of the first to go in 2003 and now are hanging on to see if they'll go back now. There is one guy in his unit who has been talking to the Chaplain a lot lately. His wife is a crackhead and he has filed for divorce. It is her 2nd or 3d time through rehab and he just couldn't take it anymore. He has three kids 11, 7 and 2 and she just recently signed over custody to him. The two year old was their surprise baby when he came home from Iraq last time. He's wondering if he should file for hardship. He doesn't have anyone to care for his kids and is worried that everything he has left will crumble around him but he also wants to serve his country with his fellow soldiers. My heart breaks for him. I've offered to have his kids come to our house or us go to his so he can get a haircut, go have a beer or do whatever it is he needs to do by himself. What else can I offer to do? I wish there was more. His 2 year old could play with mine. I could entertain his 7 year old but his 11 year old I'm not sure about. She's had a tough time with her situation and has started to lash out and it wears him out and understandably.

No matter how hard I think I have it, there is someone who always has it worse. I recently read a blog about Perspective written by a milspouse and it touched me greatly. In it she referenced that she pulled perspective from a good friend who became a widow when her husband was killed in Fallujah. Wow. I've known people to die but I've never known anyone super close to me who has. The closest is an aunt who lives in Alaska whose husband committed suicide 10 years ago. But, I was in my 20's, she was in Alaska and I didn't know him all that well. His memorial service was the same weekend of my wedding. I wasn't sure how to react/respond. I knew my heart broke for her and it broke greatly. Since then, everyone has moved on and she hasremarried, etc.

I often wonder how I would react if I got that dreadful visit from the Army. I often dream about it and wonder who I would call first. What would I say? Would I make them go next door to get my neighbor so I didn't have to hear it alone? Would I call my mother who lives and hour away and tell her to get over now and make them sit in the driveway until she got here? I know I shouldn't have the thoughts but I do. It's a fact if he goes back to Iraq it could happen. There are over 3000 other families whose loved ones have met their maker and my heart aches for them. The first time Hubs got ready to come home, he sent his footlockers with some of his belongings and I sat on the front porch and cried as hard as I think I have ever cried. It was the first step in him coming home but there were so many other families who were getting the footlocker but there would be no welcome home ceremony to attend. It's sad. It's heartbreaking. I believe in my husband and all our troops. I often get asked if I support the war. It doesn't matter what I think. There are more people who know what is going on than me and it's so easy to be an armchair quarterback. I think it would be a huge mistake to pull out now and I think that is the reality of it. It's a sacrifice. It's a hard sacrifice to make. Hubs is a reservist. He re-enlisted in August with the full understanding of the possibility of a second tour, possibly a third before it is all over. But, I'm a worrier and it's what I do best, I think. I guess it's a good thing worry doesn't cause hair to grey otherwise I'd be white all over.

I guess enough rambling and incomplete thoughts for now...I'm going to snuggle next to Hubs and catch a couple of winks before BG wakes from her nap.