Merry Christmas and Happy New Year

I know I've been gone from my bloggy friends a long while. I'll be back. Meanwhile, LT Dan and I are about to travel to the great frozen tundra that is the Midwest. Wish us luck, I imagine we'll be spending Tuesday night in O'Hare and if we aren't, then we'll be driving from another airport to my Mom's in a snow storm. Yeah. LT Dan says to think positive. I'll try.

I hope you all are well, happy, warm and safe. Please give your babies an extra kiss on their little heads for me and enjoy your holiday!

I like this

“You cannot bring about prosperity by discouraging thrift.

You cannot strengthen the weak by weakening the strong.

You cannot help little men by tearing down big men.

You cannot lift the wage earner by pulling down the wage payer.

You cannot help the poor by destroying the rich.

You cannot establish sound security on borrowed money.

You cannot further the brotherhood of man by inciting class hatred.

You cannot keep out of trouble by spending more than you earn.

You cannot build character and courage by destroying men’s initiative and independence.

And you cannot help men permanently by doing for them what they can and should do for themselves.”
————-William Boetcker (1873-1962)

Sit n Spin

I was going to title this spinning but then I decided ya'll would think I was a healthy person...no, not so much. Or at least not enough to do that spinning thing.

I'm really talking about Fay. Who sits on top of me spinning. Well not really on top of me, but she's right out there to the East of me and I can see her in my sky...spinning. She won't go away and she won't be in any way predictable. Very bizarre storm. The meteorologist blogs I read are going crazy and one is calling this storm "The Joker" I'm inclined to agree.

The thing that made me cry today (8/10/08)

I adore So You Think You Can Dance. Little known fact about Bon--in my first life I was a dancer for 20+ years. I wish I had had the opportunity to do the dancing they do these days...oh yeah gimme some of that. These two were just extraordinary, and that young man has had little if any formal training, that's all him, all natural raw self-taught talent under some direction. Amazing.

For my part, the story I saw in the dance was orders, separation. The shirt just pushed me over the edge, I have a shirt. It's got so much magic in it it can actually save the day when I am in the depths of sadness. It's the ugliest shirt you've ever seen, got paint all over it, acid holes, you name it. But it belonged to LT Dan for years and now, it's MY magic shirt.

I haven't seen my husband in over a month. Damn I miss him. One more month and I get to see him again. This has been a long stretch. Bless his heart he actually watched this whole video and another one too! Just for me. Dance would not be his biggest interest. ;)

The thing that made me laugh today

I'm outside fighting the good fight against the horrible grass that apparently came along with my palm trees for the ride...it's horrible, truly. This same grass has given me tendinitis twice now so I'm trying to carefully poison the bastard.

So the water meter guy walks by, I say good morning, he says nothing because he has his ipod on and doesn't hear me. Back to work. I hear him, he's coming down the street, singing at a pretty good volume Keith Sweat-Whatcha Like.

Lyrics:
I know what you want
I know what you need
Gonna give ya
What you like, what you like

You know what I want
You know what I need
Can you give me
What I like, what I like

Girl, I'll take you
Where you never been before
I'll go down girl
And give you so much more

Please come to me
I'll supply your every need
Satisfaction, baby, gauranteed

Yep, he was singin that...and I ran into the garage because I was laughing so hard I didn't want him to see me.

What's on your fridge?

I have a pet

song for the day

Kelly Rose Got Married

So right shortly after Lt Dan left the sunny place Lisa and I left the sunny place for Maine and Kelly's wedding. Now I guess I need to say who Kelly Rose is -- she's my Kelly girl, and she was my son Zach's girl and best friend for a very long time. I am reasonably sure, that Kelly was "the one." Zach told me she was, and I think that marriage is where they would have ended up had Zach's story not ended so abruptly. Kelly was the one who made Zach look "for the next right thing to do." She is a very special and charming young lady.

I wouldn't have missed the wedding for the world and I am so happy and glad for Kelly and her husband. Still, it was a milestone for me and a bittersweet one at that. Returning to Maine, to all the places and spaces that we had been with Zach, driving the same roads, seeing our old house. Phew. Then watching Kelly being escorted by her Dad, I am so proud of me for holding it together and not sobbing or anything awful. Lisa was a big help in keeping me focused on the joy.

Some observations...damn we drove a long way to just go to the grocery store or ANYTHING. LOL I guess when you live there you don't realize that you live on a mountaintop in the boonies until you return and see just how far it is! The other thing is -- when we moved our old neighbors kept in touch for a long while. They did not especially like the people who bought our house because they had chickens...chickens running around loose chickens. I don't know, chickens are ok with me, but anyway. So when we were at the wedding someone told us that the people who bought our house have alpacas. I didn't even know what an alpaca WAS. Yeah, I looked it up. We went by, and sure enough...alpacas. I guess the barn and pastures weren't enough so they fenced the beautiful front and side yards for the alpacas too. *blink* Ahhh well, to each his own I guess.

There was one funny Zach story from the wedding reception too. Kelly's Mom made sure we were sitting with people I knew and who knew Zach. There was a young man and his wife and his mother that were seated with us who knew Zach very well. I didn't really know this particular kid, he didn't hang out at our house. Anyway, when they figure out I am "Zach's Mom" (funny how that never really goes away even when Zach has, I am still and always Zach's Mom) his Mom says "OMG your son is the one who lent Andrew his ID so he could go get a tattoo when he wasn't 18!" I just had to laugh. That sounds exactly like Zach. Mostly harmless stuff...but still, always something. So apparently Andrew was going into the military as well and using Zach's ID he went and got himself a Marine Bulldog. I guess Kelly was furious with Zach for lending Andrew his ID. Andrew's Mom was none too thrilled either. It ends up Andrew didn't go into the Marines, rather he went into the Air Force...complete with his Marine Bulldog tattoo. Compliments of my child and unbeknownst to me. Yep...perfect Zach story.

A lot of the trip to Maine was an adventure. I drove more miles in severe thunderstorms than I do here at home in the land of thunderstorms. I actually had to pull off the 95 one time because it was hailing and blowing tree branches and I couldn't see...that is actually a first, never had to do that before. Then the radio goes into emergency broadcast mode and tells us we're pulled off the side of the road for a tornado. Of all things, in Maine, a tornado. Ok fine.

Lisa and I stayed at a couple of really great hotels and watched thunderstorms from our balcony on a cliff overlooking the Atlantic and that was just killer. Then she went off to Quebec for a month and here I am, at the sunny place again blabbing away.

Magical Days

I had nine (count them NINE) wonderful days with Lt Dan. Oh yeah, it was awesome!

He surprised me by showing up way early on Friday and promptly said "let's go get the insurance and tags done so they are done." We did just that. Dropped by the insurance people who I had already arranged all the paperwork for him with. Shuffled around vehicles, getting one out of storage and each of us drove one of his vehicles to the county place got the titles and tags. Shuffled the storage one back to storage and then went out for an awesome breakfast at this little local bistro that I love. We were all done by noon and back home enjoying the afternoon.

We went to Disney for a couple of days and had a really nice time. I had no idea how my husband would be in a Disney-like circumstance so it was an adventure of sorts. Lt Dan was awesome. I just told him the general plan, meaning I think you will want to go here, here and here and in this order because of various events on those days. Then I handed him the maps and let him say "follow me!" (He's very practiced at saying that by the way, maybe not necessarily those words but yeah, telling somebody to do something...fortunately he did not say it at his normal work volume!) It was so much fun, just watching him forget himself and ride the rides and listening to his comments as we watched people and just generally getting to be together without any demands but to have fun. We did that having fun thing very well.

We were able to go see Beth's Mom and family and give hugs where hugs were needed since this was also the one year anniversary of her death. We didn't go to the Coke Zero 400 (I liked it better way long time ago when it was simply the Firecracker 400 but meh) at Daytona with them because that was my last day with Dan and I didn't want to spend it at the race, not to mention his having to drive back the next day. Still it was really good to see everybody and Dan got to meet them all for the first time. It appears he has passed muster ;)

Fourth of July we took Megan and her husband to the beach and spent the whole day there. It was a perfect beach day and we had a blast.

Then a relaxing day at home and suddenly...he was gone. Bleah. Still they were magical days and I'm very happy to have had them.

Sometimes it is what it is

I have a question

Later on, after vacation with Lt Dan I'm gonna blog about this, but for now I have a question. How many of your significant others have empathy? Since all the people I know who read this blog are women folk, I'm asking about your men, do that have empathy? Lots of it? Not so much? None? Did they get it when you had your babies? Or they had it all along?

Just leave me a comment if you wanna. I'll be gone for a week playing in the Sunny Place with Lt Dan and hopefully having a Magical Day or actually three, along the way!

Back soon, have an awesome 4th July!

Flux (or bang head on desk)

Flux–noun

1.	a flowing or flow.

2.	the flowing in of the tide.

3.	continuous change, passage, or movement: His political views are in a state of flux.

Life as an Army wife. Flux. Life as a military member. Flux. See # 3 above. This last couple of weeks I've been trying to help a friend who is new to being a military wife, and to the military entirely really, with flux. The lessons aren't easy. Of course these are all my own point of view, probably other people have a different one.

First: You can't plan to do anything (at least not with your spouse) if he has no orders. Orders are the beginning and the end. It doesn't matter what your supposition is, what anybody says, if there are no orders it isn't happening. Sometimes orders take time to materialize, for whatever reason, and even though waiting is hard, you have to.

Second: Even if you have orders, they can change as quickly as you can plan to accommodate them. This includes approved leave.

Third: As long as you are married to the military it will always be this way.

I understand, these lessons aren't fun. It isn't fun when you have never been separated from your spouse and suddenly you are for sometimes extended periods. It isn't fun to expect a weekend pass from training and have it fall through because someone failed inspection. But. It isn't personal either. It is unfortunately, necessary. Sucks but many times things do. It could be worse. Far worse.

Adapt, improvise, overcome.
Relax.
Wait for orders.
THEN do what you need to do.

Meanwhile stop thinking you can control this part of life. Not gonna happen. The sooner you can do this the less stress you will have. Whatever it is, you can and will deal with it when it happens. Until it does happen you can't deal with it so .... just stop it.

The thing is, when you are together, you are together, be happy for that, look for the small blessings and count them. Being together is a large one. Recognize it and the other things we have count for a lot and looking for the things we don't have diminishes the things we do have. Boy I'm good at writing convoluted sentences!

I bet, if I continued this list, of just what I know, not even bothering to gather from all the other spouses and military members I know, it would get right up into the several hundreds...

Best quote(as best I can remember I can't find it verbatim) for this post--something Pamela said on Lifetime's Army Wives-- Ever feel like he's really married to the Army and you are the mistress and that bitch gets all his time?

It is what it is, accept that and carry on.

The Great Cookie Swap!

My Gram was not a cook. She was many things, a stubborn divorced during the depression raising four boys and two girls woman on her own, but a cook? No. Christmas was the one time when Gram always made homemade things. These cookies and Gram's date-nut bread were the things I looked forward to the most. The date-nut bread I still have not found the "proper" recipe for, so far none has turned out like Gram's.

These cookies were very popular, there are recipes all over for them, everyone has probably had some version or other, they are simply my favorite cookie. I had no idea what they were called until my Mom pointed me to the recipe in the ancient church cookbook I have. I make them once a year or I would be a plus size woman, I can't NOT eat them if they are there.

Hello Dollies (magic cookie bars)

1/2 cup butter/margarine
11/2 cup crushed graham
cracker crumbs
1 cup chocolate chips
1 can (14oz) condensed milk
1 can (3 1/2oz) coconut
1 cup chopped nuts (Gram used walnuts, I use pecans alot too)

Preheat oven to 350 (325 for glass dish)
13x9 inch baking pan:
Melted butter
Sprinkle crumbs over butter (you can compress them if you like, or not)
Pour condensed milk over crumbs
Top evenly with chocolate chips, coconut and nuts

Bake 25-30 minutes or until light brown.

The picture doesn't quite look like mine do, but hey, yours wouldn't look like mine either. I couldn't find a picture of them made in a 13x9-- I imagine the ones in the picture are just thicker...I like mine in the 13x9. I just realized, these have no eggs! They sure don't qualify as healthy in any way either! My Mom told me to just buy the box of already crushed graham cracker crumbs which makes these so easy to make it's just sinful.

Go on over to Trying Our Best and you get to travel around cookie recipes! What a nice change of post!

Wordless Wednesday

Becoming an Ex and other random thoughts

I confess. Half the reason I'm not here writing anything is because I quit smoking May 12. That may not sound like a big deal, but imagine being an addict for slightly over 30 years and then one day deciding to stop that. Yeah. Not fun. I had to, first of all I promised Zach, second it was the only thing I did that was bad for me, unless you count the occasional funnel cake.

Add to that Mother's Day, my Mom being terminally ill, Memorial Day, my Dad being diagnosed with Alzheimer's, my own diagnoses of osteoporosis, June 1st was Beth's birthday (the first since she died and the damn e-card people kept sending me REMINDERS like I needed them) and, well you get the picture.

But you know, that is all just normal life if you keep it in perspective. It sucks sometimes and is really awesome other times and hopefully over time it all evens out and can be called happy and content. (she says...trying to find her optimist bone)

Yesterday, I woke up and walked the dog her half an hour, came home, did a few chores and turned on The View. I try to turn on The View and watch them do 'hot topics' -- then I turn it off again :D Before hot topics was finished I was sneezing volcanic sneezes over and over, in an hour and a half I went through a box of kleenex! UGH So yeah, I'm sick for the first time in...well, a long time. I can't remember when I last had a cold so I am sure it is simply my turn but really I could have done without the explosion of cold all at once.

My husband comes home, brings me a new box of kleenex, gives me a hug, makes the sign of the cross at me and walks away. I am the new definition of miserable. Some other things happened, I wanted to find a large thing and throw it at him or beat him up, he starts laughing at me, I start sobbing and REALLY want to beat him up, and then everything was fine. At that point he found me some Army drugs that they gave him when he had a cold, brought me some food and I got a little better and didn't beat him up or anything. I think my husband just failed his first ever nursing job (laughing at your wife when she is miserably sick is a BAD idea) and I definitely failed my patient job (my responses were way not rational). I will be better prepared the next time.

Hopefully I am returning to my more normal self. I have to carry my head back to bed (it weighs three tons today) now but there, now there is a more normal update.
P.S. LOOK! I wrote more than one paragraph and I didn't smoke!

Ummmm NO, that is all.

OK June is better

I've been noticeably silent. I know. Sometimes, when you can't say anything nice, or in my case, good or positive. No words is a better option.

About Memorial Day. I really like this post. Primarily for the quote from the tombstone. "Remember Me and Not My Fate" Yeah. That's a much better thing and once I focused on that I started pulling myself up and out of my little yucky melt down.

More help followed from Trying's place, here and here. She's so good, that girl. Anyone lucky enough to be her friend and hang out with her and go visit the cows is very lucky. One more, there is Claire of the Hooah Family. Claire has turned into such a good and positive part of my life. I just need to say thank you, you have no idea how you both helped me regain perspective and find my center. Maybe prayer, maybe insight, maybe sharing, simply caring. No idea, but thank you from the bottom of my heart.

We now return to our regularly (or maybe not so much) scheduled programming. Carry on :)

Wordless Wednesday

Never Forget

Let no vandalism of avarice or neglect, no ravages of time, testify to the present or to the coming generations, that we have forgotten, as a people, the cost of a free and undivided Republic. --General John A. Logan

Wordless Wednesday

Confessions

I love noisy powerful fast things. Yep. I took the weekend off and went to a Living Green Expo on Saturday and an Air Fest on Sunday.

I love going to the air fest and watching/hearing /feeling really loud, really powerful, really fast jets and planes. There is also a certain thing about the smell of jet fuel. I don't know, don't ask.

My sister finally went with me, I've been trying to convince her for years. She had such a great time and since her passion is meteorology having all the NOAA planes and the Air Force Hurricane Hunter there for her viewing pleasure was quite the thrill for her. I was so surprised and proud of her normally shy self bombarding the crew of the Hurricane Hunter with questions. They were thrilled, apparently nobody even asked them what it is they do and how they do it. Weird here in hurricane land, at least I think so. Lisa knows a lot about what they do and how they do it but this gave her the opportunity to see the equipment and ask lots of informed questions. It was wonderful to watch her and to watch the crew light up when given the opportunity to talk about what they do.

I didn't take my camera so the picture I posted was taken with Lisa's little one. She took the picture, I was too busy crying like a dork. Something at the air show always gets me. This time it was the F-4/P-51/F-15 Heritage Fly-by. Between the music, a haunting Celtic song that reminded me of the one I chose to play at the end of Zach's memorial service, and the dedication, and seeing those generations flying by, together (which takes a huge amount of skill for them to do by the way) I was a suddenly a puddle. I've said before that my family is military, my father's side way back, my mother's side way back and my siblings and niece as well. So the fly-by brings back for me, my heritage also, and memory of those that are gone now. I really am proud of our country, with all it's youth and foibles and those in the military who serve on our behalf, are some of the very best in the world.

The living green expo was awesome. Lots and lots of ideas and things to do either to this home or the dream house. Technology is coming along nicely, if only we had easier access to it, either in terms of being able to afford it, or plan and have the option to include it in our houses when we build them. I could have a rant here but I won't. There wasn't much for me to learn about ways to recycle and make less of an impact than I already do, but it was still really an interesting day.

I had great fun taking the weekend off, got a sunburn on my forehead in spite of my ginormous hat--I had to take it off sometimes to let wind blow and cool my head off, got my picture taken in some rediculous fingers-in-ears, mouth-open pose (I hope that doesn't show up in the paper really) and had a blast!

Lego's

I don't know why, but I was just sitting here remembering Lego's, you know those wonderful little bits of plastic block. The same ones that once you grow up past the toddler huge size that you just trip over and get to the regular size become tiny weapons that hate your feet and the dog likes to chew.

Zach used to disappear into his room for hours on end playing with Ninja Turtles and He-Man, cars, and Lego's. My closet was in Zach's room so one winter Saturday I went up to put away laundry and Zach had been in his room for a very long time. The door was closed. I knocked, he responded with "wait a minute Mom" and I hear all this shuffling. "Ok, I think you can open the door now." Hmmm so I gingerly open the door and thunk, run into something. I can get my head in there now so I peek around the door. The child has made an entire lego interstate system in his room. Big lego's, little lego's, ALL the lego's and the wooden blocks too. There are bridges, and overpasses, ramps up to his bed. I can't get in. He was playing with his cars all over this highway system. He was seven, not quite eight years old. I wish I had a picture of that.

Many years later while Zach was in Iraq, I sent him a couple of Star Wars Lego sets for his 21st birthday and then Christmas. He assembled them all too! Not exactly what you would WANT to be doing on your 21st birthday but it was something to do and different.

Boys are fun.

Wordless Wednesday?

Bloggy things (warning-- random thoughts)

I've been playing with my blog this morning. Bad Bon. I'm supposed to be *doing* things. Opening that ginormous pile of mail over there, doing laundry, buying groceries, paying bills, walking the dog, oh yeah, getting dressed would be good too. The President is having a press conference and I'm not really totally listening to that either. I'm avoiding responsibility and playing with my blog *grin*

About Lt Dan. That is his call sign because Forrest Gump is one of my all time favorite movies and I loved Lt Dan almost as much as I loved Forrest. Stubborn, willful, sometimes dumb, as kind as he was hard...I'll stop now because I could list my Lt Dan traits all day long probably. Now of course my Lt Dan says "but Lt Dan had no legs and I have at least one good one." LOL Yeah. My Lt Dan has a leg that got some major trauma in a training catastrophe. He's working on it, it's getting better, that's another post entirely. So, now you know why Lt Dan is Lt Dan. Actual rank isn't a part of that, rather it's about who he is and who I am and how things go.

We had a Hail and Farewell while I was up at The Cave. I'm a newb military wife so this was my first ever. I came away thinking "wow, I really AM a newb (newb: A term used to describe an inexperienced gamer/person/etc. A newb is someone who actually wants to get better.) military wife." I met a whole bunch of people, can remember like three names, got a rose and a battalion pin because we were one of the two couples being welcomed (I did notice the other wives had those on,) and felt totally like a newb. So many people there who have spent many years living this life and we are just at the beginning and I know so little. This too shall pass and still it was nice and interesting. By the way, the Urban Dictionary is sometimes a fun place to go--you can look up words like newb!

I think I'm going to have to get one of those little old lady pill holder things. Right now an ash tray is my tool of choice (nothing else to do with it). While I was up at The Cave I had my annual physical. It wasn't good, I have osteoporosis. So lots of pills, daily and once weekly. Weee so much for any sense of invincibility I may have had. I could go on a long rant about this since I already DO all the things you are supposed to do to avoid having this. Damn heredity is all I'm gonna say because you don't need a rant in addition to a zillion random thoughts.

Also while I was at The Cave I made a military wife friend who happens to live in our same Cave complex. Cool. We had lots of fun spending time together and going places and I enjoyed being around her two little girls immensely. So yay, a friend is a good thing and I'm kinda sorry I can't be there for her all the time. Her husband is in a school so she doesn't see him much right now and won't for another couple of months.

All right it's almost noon and I have done nothing I'm supposed to, I better get moving. Hope everyone has a great day.

Constant Companion

This is Widget. This picture was taken when she was three months old.

Widget is a Japanese Chin. This means she is queen of the world. She's is smart, full of energy, has her own internal clock, never fails to tell you when it is time to eat, walk, play, go to bed, stop being in one room when my husband is in another, or give her a greenie.

Lt Dan says she "bridges" us, if I am in one room and he is in another, Widget will nag me to go to the room he is in, or if I refuse (and I always do), she will park somewhere in between, where she can supervise both of us. We need supervision you know....

At five months, this was Widget's favorite activity while I was doing morning things. Every morning, without fail. Now, at the ripe old age of four, soon to be five, she pulls kleenex out of the bathroom bin and shreds them on the bedroom floor (if I don't catch her first). At least I got her to stop doing this to the toilet paper!

Widget looks like a fru fru dog but the truth is she's a pistol. She's full of energy, walks great distances and after a short nap is ready to go again. She's tough, she can run full on into something and she just huffs, blows her nose out and carries on. She is definitely a companion dog and it is good that I don't work outside the home. Widget's breed does not do well being left alone all day, they need their people. If I worked every day she would have to go to doggy day care or something. Widget has moved to new homes four times in her four years and adapted to them all in her cheery Widget owns the world way--she's wonderful at adapting.

Here is Widget today. She is my constant companion. Widget commutes the 71/2 hours in the car with me to and from The Cave and the Sunny Place usually without complaint. Yesterday we came back to the Sunny Place from The Cave and she did something very odd. As I was unloading the car, she kept getting back in it. I put a doggy bed in the front seat and she wears her harness which then gets attached to the seat belt to hold her stable for sudden stops etc. She appeared to be none too happy about being here and not having my husband. It's the first time she's ever done that. She got back into the car four times and finally believed me when I said we were staying here for a while--and moped, for a long time. Hot nose, little tears from her eyes, sad face. It was pitiful.

Did I mention? She's not spoiled? No, not one bit.

Sever the tether

Well, we wish we could. We really do. We also wish we could buy those of you who don't understand why we can't, a clue.

We are tethered to our cell phones like our lives depend on it. Because they do.

In September, 2001, I began carrying a cell phone with me at all times, and I do mean ALL times--to the shower, to the bathroom, to bed, outside to garden, turned to vibrate and stashed in my bra while mowing the two acres of lawn at our old house on the rider mower, or while snow blowing the 190 foot driveway in the dead of winter.

September, 2001 is burned in my memory (and yours) for a number of reasons, including the fact that my only child, my son Zach, flew off to basic training like the little eagle he was. So the tether began. It continued through his being stationed in Germany, and on to his deployment to Iraq when the answering machine message on my home phone changed to "You have reached such n such number I am not available to answer your call, please leave a message and I will call you back. Zach, if this is you I love you and call my cell phone such n such number."

Zach was always sleep-deprived and there is a pretty large time difference between here and Iraq so I wanted to be sure he had the number and I would not miss that call. Add to that the fact that my son, my only child (yes, I'm repeating this--it's part of giving you a clue) often had to stand in line for a very long time to wait his turn to make this call in conditions that you know nothing about -- 120 degree temperatures, mortars dropping in close proximity, human bombs exploding, no sleep for a day or two, yeah, just your everyday sort of conditions.

If Zach called on the home phone and missed me he always left a message before calling my cell phone. I saved every single one of those messages. Every single one. Why? Because I never knew if that would be the last time I would hear his voice. Those messages are now all I have left of my son's voice, and one day, I know, I will not be able to hear it in my head any more and then I will have those recordings to listen to. To hear, I love you Mom one more time, to hear him call me a dork for not being home...priceless.

Zach left Iraq before his unit, he returned to Germany to begin the process of coming back to the states to start training in Special Forces, what he always wanted. On January 23, 2004, two days after his return to Germany he was killed by a drunk driver.

Oh life's irony. I thought he was safe. But we are never safe are we? No.

July 2, 2007. My best friend of 25 years went to the mall and never came back. She died of an aortic aneurysm. What if I didn't answer the phone the last time she called?

October, 2007. I married the love of my life after 7 years of history together. Lt Dan was not always Lt Dan though he wanted to be, instead he deferred to his parents and went to college and got his degree, then he owned and operated a successful business. He wanted desperately to be in a position to stand for our country on September 11, 2001 and he began to put a plan in motion to liquidate his comfortable and successful life, prepare himself mentally and physically, and get on the road to becoming Lt Dan. He did discuss this with me and before he submitted his final papers I had the option of saying no. I did not.

I am still tethered and will remain so for the duration. I am apart from those I love and those who are close to me more than I am together with them. Every single moment, every conversation, no matter how mundane is precious. Every I love you at the end of every phone call is precious. Severing the tether is not an option. Military families know this best though there are many others who know this as well. Some of you don't. You haven't gotten the clue.

The present moment is all you have, it is all you are guaranteed...cherish it.

Editors note: Lest you wonder what started this little rant, it began as a thought as I was reading this at SpouseBUZZ and became anger as I was reading this over at Trying's place, about this young man. Then it just had to come out somehow. I'm proud that I didn't cuss. ;)

How DO they DO that?

Tenacity? Sheer determination? Necessity? All of the above. I've been pondering lately on how military wives who are also mothers manage to do it. Alone. Mostly. Or even those who aren't mothers but who are younger than I and maybe not so stubbornly independent.

From where I'm sitting I know this. Today (and all of this week) Lt Dan has been at work at right around 3am and gotten home at right around 6pm. Tonight it was 8pm. Now, most nights he's sound asleep by 7pm. So where exactly does that really leave any time for actually having a conversation, or much of anything else. And who's children go to bed at 7? Do they actually tuck their Dad in? Does he stay up a little longer? Man. My child didn't go to bed until 8 and even then as he grew older he was allowed to read in bed, he just had to go to bed because *I* was tired. I always figured if getting to stay up was so important then after story time, or talk time as he grew older, he could read on his own, it worked, he read a lot as he grew up and I still got peace.

Plus, it's not even DARK at 7 right now, which is weird all by itself, sleeping when the sun hasn't even set yet.

From where I'm sitting I know this as well. I'm not sure I would have been in any way prepared as a twenty-something to deal with the kind of hours Lt Dan and I deal with now. At my current age I'm pretty well grounded, very independent, very secure, I have lots of coping skills. Add children to the mix, young ones, and flu, and projectile vomiting, and runny noses, and broken bones, all the myriad things that children get and do... We're not even talking about laundry and bill paying and cooking and groceries... Or deployment. Or even being in the field. I can't imagine how hard it must be.

Of course, as I think back, I did go to college full time, work nearly full time, and be the single mother of a not-quite-human two year old. I did that successfully, somehow. I even graduated and then got my MBA --my son cheered YAY MOM when the Cardinal was giving me my diploma because he was five and more human by that time.

Then I think about how lucky I am that I don't have to try to manage a career while moving every couple of years, also with children who must adapt and adjust to new schools and environments right along with their parents. I don't know how wives with (normal) careers do it either.

I am just filled with admiration for those who do this military spouse job, and try very hard to do it well. For years. Amazing.

For my part, by comparison, I think I have it easy. I just go about my solitary way, knowing my husband loves me, knowing I will get that kiss goodbye at 2 or 3am, and a solid hug and kisses when he comes home, or maybe some time in "the nook" (you know, the nook, that place your head lays in his shoulder where everything that isn't right is made all better) as he falls asleep. I have to run the households and take the dog out, but other than that I am all good. I manage. I tell him what I'm going to do, get feedback, and do it.

Edit April 12
I am very much a lucky one. I'll repeat that to myself all day today, and maybe all night since I have been at The Cave all week, seen my husband maybe three hours, and now he's off spending the next 24 hours on post doing some duty or other. I'll also constantly remind myself to shut up, he's not deployed. Maybe kids would be ok too, at least they are another human being to talk to :)

A Quart of Milk

Sometimes the mind, for reasons we don't necessarily understand, just decides to go to the store for a quart of milk.--Northern Exposure, Three Doctors, 1993

My Dad's mind has gone out for a quart of milk and I'm thinking it's not coming back. This is difficult. It is yet another lesson in acceptance (have I mentioned I'm really tired of these?). My Dad has written and published I think four books, maybe five, he's been a soldier, an engineer, a painter, a master bird carver, a teacher, a furniture builder, a civil war historian, an author. He always said for his next project he would write a concerto, simply because it was one of the things he hadn't done. Dad played piano by ear, he didn't read music, I'm not sure how he would have written this concerto, but probably he would have taught himself how to read music and done it--he was just that kind of guy.

Dad still remembers me, he amazes me in conversation once in a while by remembering exactly when I was born and when his father died, but not remembering his sisters who visited. Our last conversation we talked about Easter Sunday when my brother and his wife and the wonderful little grandson were coming. Except...he couldn't remember who it was that was coming, just "alot of people, which means a big day." He can't remember words, words were his best friend. I credit my love of reading to my Dad, and now he can't remember lots and lots of words. Or what time it is, or how to get home if he goes too far walking the dog (she brings him home he says and she probably does), he can't drive any more or work in his woodworking shop.

His sense of humor is intact, and there are other things that are very "Dad-like" but I know I am experiencing the long goodbye. So counting blessings of what is still there, accepting what is, that is the mission for me. I don't have to like it though, nobody said that.

My, I'm chatty today

I saw this as I was getting ready to try yet another call to my Mom (who is still not in her room tonight so I've heard the "magical day" thing twice tonight already.)

It made me sad. The Christmas Zach was in Iraq he got to see Robin Williams. Every conversation was about Robin Williams is coming and I get to see him! It was wonderful. I eventually wrote Robin Williams after much searching about just HOW to do that, and thanked him for going to Baghdad to make my son and everyone else there laugh rather than be home with his own family at Christmas. What a wonderful thing he did. I actually wrote him to thank him because it was on my "to do" list before that knock on the door came, and I wanted to let him know he made my son's last Christmas special. So I write, and I check that off my list and carry on.

A month or so later I get this envelope in the mail with the return address "Robin and Marsha Williams" Of course I've forgotten and I'm confused, I don't know who this is. I open the envelope and there is a letter from Robin Williams and his wife thanking me for my letter and Zach's service, and telling me that he has a son named Zach and that they have made a donation for a redwood tree to be planted in my Zach's memory. Wow. Sweet. Talk about caring, real, and going beyond anything expected.

So, that they are getting a divorce after so many years together is just kinda sad and I wish him the very best.

Have a magical day!

Oh. My. God. If I hear "Have a magical day!" one more time I swear I will just cry. My brother and his family, along with my Mom are visiting Disney. Yesterday was Mom's 70th birthday. My sister, Lisa and I were supposed to be there but we're not. The best laid plans and all. Lisa disintegrated a tooth that was supposed to be pulled next week. So yesterday we were at the dentist, not at Disney World. A new dentist, the regular dentist is where dentists are on Spring Break--probably at Disney with my family. *chuckle* So we get to the new dentist and we fill out all the papers.

Mind you, Lisa does not like the dentist. Not even a little bit and she's also prone to hysteria if there is a hint that pain will be involved. Our dentist makes her take Valium before she comes to his office for major procedures--he gives her no choice even though we are not drug doing people and she would really rather NOT take this drug prior to her dentist visit. That also requires that she have a chauffeur to and from the dentist--me. But I digress.

So we fill out the new dentist papers, she troops in to have her tooth pulled, whereupon the new dentist says "What? you took Valium on the orders of your other dentist? I can't pull your tooth you are under the influence of a drug and your consent is not valid." They call me in from the parking lot where I am reading a book and waiting. I say, well I have a medical power of attorney, I can sign, you pull the tooth, I go home and fax it to you, it's all good. No. She can come back tomorrow and not take Valium until she signs the consent. I hate the new dentist.

So we did not go to Disney for Mom's 70th birthday celebration (which I hear was magical) and we did not go today either. We are going tomorrow. My eye. Meanwhile I am calling about every half hour all last evening in order to update Mom and to wish her Happy Birthday. Every time I call the last thing the operator says is "Have a magical day!"

This day, and yesterday were not so magical really...please stop wishing me a magical day, ok? Just stop.

Friendship and Memory

Megan called last night, while she was driving home from picking up Ryan at the half-way point between her home and his so he could stay with her during spring break. They wanted to know what their Mom's dream car was. I told them, the little BMW convertible or the Saturn Skye were the two she really loved. When we hung up I was hit with such sadness.

Megan is Beth's daughter, Beth and I were pregnant together and Megan was born nearly one month to the day before my son Zach. Zach and Meg grew up together. Meg is now 25 years old, soon to be 26. Ryan, her brother, is now 15. Zach died January 23rd, 2004, Beth died July 2 of last year. She had a stealth aortic aneurysm that decided to rupture while she and Ryan were at the mall one Sunday afternoon.

Beth was my best friend, but more than that, she held memory with me. She knew Zach from before the day he was born. She remembered all the little stories, all the things I did and didn't. Beth remembered with me and when she was away from me. Those memories, the funny (and some not so funny) little stories...they are what is most precious to me. When you lose your child (or anyone you love dearly) you want nothing more than for him to be remembered, not forgotten, but kept alive in memory and story and laughter and love. That is all there is now.

After Meg and Ryan called, I realized I am now that for them, the holder of memory, of years and years of shared history. The person who will know the answer to "what was the dream car Mom wanted" and probably many other questions to come.

When I first saw Megan before Zach's funeral, she hugged me for a long time and we cried, and she whispered in my ear "I will have your grandchildren for you." It brings tears to my eyes whenever I think of her saying that. With all her heart she meant it. So my job is to be her children's grandmother, to tell them the stories of their grandmother Beth. Not what I expected.

Now I am the holder of memory and it is the very least I can do for my friend.

Five Years, the first year

I've been pondering this topic for a long while now. While I want to say something, I am afraid if I start it will all come rushing out in a huge gush and make utterly no sense. So, I'll start, and we'll see. As I sit here pondering I think it better to go year by year. So this is my year one. 2003

Zach came home from Germany for my Uncle Bud's funeral at the first of the year. I hadn't seen him in two years and it was oh so good to pick him up in Chicago. I went by myself and so I had him all to myself on the two hour drive home. How I cherish that time we had to talk.

One of the things that stands out in my memory most was a precursor of things to come. As the family was gathered with the officiating pastor to remember Uncle Bud so that she could write her talk at his service the talk turned to Afghanistan and Iraq. Knowing that my son had already received his orders (this was a secret) and was returning to immediately deploy to (also a secret) didn't help me as the pastor began to expound in great detail about how Afghanistan and potentially Iraq were for no reason other than oil and money and she was so glad her son would not have to fight in these worthless endeavors because he was serving in the Army Band.

I opened my mouth, my son gave me a look I had never before seen and I closed my mouth. In that look, that hand held up flat facing me at his knee, I saw my adult son, the one that had grown completely up while he was away and I was not able to see it. I saw so much, I loved and respected him so much more in that instant. I wish I could remember what words he said exactly, sadly I can't. It was something along the lines of Ma'am, we do what we must to protect our country and our loved ones, we serve at the will of the Commander In Chief, we will go where we must and we provide you with the opportunity to have and voice your opinion. Now, let's talk about Uncle Bud. All this in a very quiet, calm and commanding voice. All this from my son.

I wish I could say that I would have handled that with the dignity he did. I know I would not have, I wanted to slap the woman. Seriously. I tried to carry the lesson forward with me through that first year and behave in a way that was respectful to my son and his service and to the rest of our family and their service. I come from a very long line of military service and I am proud of that but I have also learned not to take sides and get into dramatic battles -- carry your opinion, that is your right.

That first year I wrote this to my Army Moms group, in answer to the question "What have you learned?"


...to acknowledge the nightmare voices in the back of my head and then return to focus on what is, not on what could be. If I stayed with what I knew, that the last time I talked to my son he was ok, then I could remain ok.

...to read every single thing I could find about the conflict my son was involved in, including the cultural history of the country he was fighting in. It made me feel better to be armed with knowledge and the best understanding I could get of the situation he was facing.

...to use and continually check every news source known to Armymoms in the universe, especially those available at 3am when I woke up with "the horrors"

...to find several complicated, highly detailed cross stitch projects that I could work on while watching carefully chosen mindless television shows designed to keep me from thinking (this works very well as an Armymoms mini-mind vacation)

...to depend on the counsel of some very wise women all over the world, and to reach out when I felt alone and just say that--I feel alone, please tell me I'm not. Oh how good is the love of other women who know what it is to be the mother of a soldier.

...to write, each day, just a little bit in a letter to my son, and then send it every three days. Very much like a journal, but for the benefit of my son. Little things. The buds on the trees, something silly the dog did, whatever small ray of sunshine struck me that day I would write. He told me that was a wonderful thing, to let his mind rest with thoughts of home as I was seeing it.

...to always say how much I loved my soldier and how proud I was of him and the duty he was doing, and to always send him things about those here at home who were also proud of him and his fellow soldiers.

...to accept that we are a diverse people, we do not always agree, and while I may not agree I must give my best effort to just accept others at face value and without judgment.

...to accept that I am not made of steel, I will cry, at the slightest provocation--at a news story, an Army recruiting ad, at the sight of a mother with her young boy in the grocery store, and it's ok for me to do that.

lastly, to appreciate the freedom I have in the country my soldier represented and fought for, every single little freedom, there are SO many.


As I wrote this post, I heard a blurb...a recent survey shows that only one in three people knows how many lives were lost in Afghanistan and Iraq...I simply can't imagine. I don't much appreciate the press either, any of them. They focus on bad news, numbers, or they fail to report at all (especially good news). Each soldier is very personal to me. They are ALL my soldiers.

Good News From Iraq

You know, I don't talk about Zach the Warrior too much, sometimes. As I go along I'm sure I will. Follows is a story that reminds me of Zach, how he would do things if he could, and in part, he's still around at least in spirit and ideals, with people like Mike.

Over at the Hooah family's place Claire tells a story about her Mike and the Strykers and lots of other folks that made good things happen. So today, Good News From Iraq. Go see.

Binkys and Blankys and such

I was reading over at Trying's place about Pacifier Rehab and it got me to remembering so I thought I'd tell what I was remembering.

I was the kind of parent who always wanted the truth. You could get in a whole lot less trouble if you just told me the truth as opposed to trying to cover up whatever it was you did with a web of (badly told) lies. So every once in a while Zach would get in my face and tease me about how I LIED TO HIM, about how I damaged him FOREVER with these LIES. *chuckle* Add to that the blame I took for the fact that Zach always got sleepy in cars--he had colic and for a couple of months driving in the car was the only peace I got from screaming between the hours of 4pm and 4am. But I digress. This teasing was always done with huge amounts of humor and love, it was fun and of course I had NO defense, I did lie.

I lied when I said we left his binky (pacifier) at Aunty's house far away and we would just have to get used to going to sleep without binky because we couldn't get another one. Rinse, repeat -- we're talking to a toddler remember. This made for a difficult week or so, but eventually with extra story time and hugs in the rocker from Mom we got through it. I still have that damn binky, stashed away in two footlockers of Zach stuff, along with blanky (there are some things one just must KEEP.) Of course we still had blanky...

I also lied when we "accidentally" left blanky at Aunty's as well three years later. Zach had this blanky, he'd had it since he was born. White, soft, wide ribbon trimmed blanket. Yeah. The healer of all hurts, the car quieter, the nap partner, the I'm sick buddy, and there was no having a story and going to bed without this blanket. Blanky traveled everywhere and trips would be halted and returns to home made if blanky was somehow *gasp* forgotten. Well blanky went to pre-school where Zach went while I was in college full time, but when it came time to go to kindergarten blanky couldn't go and needed to ummm "disappear." By this time, poor blanky was just a shred of his former self. Mostly small swatches of the original soft material and just a bit of ribbon trim left and so he stays now with binky, full of memories.

The third lie was about peas. I hate peas. I really hate peas. Well, ok maybe fresh peas like in Chinese food I will eat (plus there's just some peas, not a whole pile and other things are there to disguise them), but not canned peas. No. Never. I can't even OPEN a can of peas without holding my breath, the smell is nauseating. I was trying to be a good mother. I didn't want to pass my prejudice about peas on to my child. Sooo....I always loved my peas so much I ate them in the kitchen while I was cooking them. I just couldn't WAIT until dinner to eat my peas. I lied. Zach believed me too, and he thought peas were great. Ugh.

Ahhh the things we do to be good parents. Hang in there Mom's, they will turn out just fine because you are paying attention. I promise.

'Nuff Said

Cartoon by Michael Ramirez

Real Life...

...vs virtual life. Hmmm

I started this post on the 25th of January with just those words, then I had to go do something and never got the post done. So now I'm back to revisit it. Today is really February 12 :)

I've always been an on line geek, since back in the days of Internet Relay Chat when the only people on there were MIT guys and other computer geek people (and my sister Lisa who lived across the sea and that was the only "cheap" way to talk to her regularly). We're talking like early 1980's. All through the years and over various interweb (I just like that word-it makes me giggle) forms I have made friends and acquaintances , all over the world.

You could debate about whether they are "real" friends or "virtual" friends, but imho, they are all as real as can be. My point is, there isn't a pretend person generated by some wondrous computer on the other end of the conversation you are having--this is a real live human being with real live human being thoughts and dreams and fears and well, the list is endless. Many people actually forget that, this is a real person here, and treat that person as though they are some disposable thing -- not so.

I may not be a part of my friends daily life, sitting in the kitchen having coffee, but I am there nonetheless, participating in a conversation, thinking together, supporting each other, sometimes holding on to a little thread of sanity. Sometimes I'm lucky enough to actually meet those friends, we've had gatherings of various sorts where people come from all over the world to meet. I was "best woman" in a wedding in Australia -- two people met on the internet and later married and I knew them both through our on-line conversations. Another two people who met in person at that wedding after talking on-line for years ended up getting married shortly thereafter.

I met my husband on the internet in a mmorp (massively multi-player on line role playing game). Yes, I'm an on line gamer, I blame my son Zach, its all his fault! My husband and I met playing this game, we spent two years of many hours playing this game and talking and laughing and sometimes being serious until finally he asked me to meet him to go to a wedding as his date. The rest (6 years later) is history.

I don't remember what started me on this little jaunt, it was something I read somewhere about "real vs virtual" and I just don't believe there is such a thing. We are all real, the form we use to communicate is virtual but still, we are real. My friends that I haven't physically met are just as valuable to me as those I have. I still wish for my teleporter though, for any number of reasons a teleporter would just be over the top awesome.

Vacation!

I'll be gone for a couple of weeks. Normally this would not be such a big deal, but my sister Lisa is turning 40 on February 1st and so, this is a big deal! We've been planning this trip for a couple of years now, we had to save many pennies, and we're both very ready. We're going to One & Only Ocean Club in the Bahamas and while she's excited about things like food and 24 hour butlers, I'm excited about the gardens and going sailing. I love sailing, of all things, even scuba diving, sailing is my favorite. She's excited about sailing too, if I don't say that I will get an angry comment I'm sure.

Today is all about getting a haircut, laying out a zillion articles of clothing and figuring out how to pack them all. It wasn't a good day when the angry bee appeared because I also realized most of my nice clothes were also not going to fit. *cry* Dresses do, dresses are good! I did spend an entire day shopping (I was chained to my sister who forced me to shop). I hate shopping. Shopping is not my friend. I am a kamikaze shopper, I go I get what I want, I leave, I'm done. Or I buy it on the interweb ;) I got blisters and she wouldn't feed me until I picked out some clothes. She said this was all "pay back" HRRMM Did I say I hate shopping? Another thing I hate, at least right now, is three way mirrors. We won't go there right now.

I'm not taking a laptop, I don't know if my phone will work (probably not) and even LT Dan says this is all a good thing, I need a vacation. I will miss him - even though we can't be together all the time we talk all the time so that part is going to be very strange. It's less time than some of his field things though so I'll survive.

When I come home I'm going to learn about making my blog "prettier" and see if I can't add some photo things and some other things. Not too many people read this, but some do so I'll try and show more of who I am and what I do. Carry on!

Edit: Wait, I forgot to tell you, I'm taking these books, one I'm already reading Here on Earth, and the other I keep seeing women at airports and at the beach with so I decided on a whim at the bookstore to give Eat, Pray, Love a try. I'll let you know.

Sometimes I wonder who you'd be today...

Always look at the bright side of life.

I love and miss you Zach.

thoughts from an angry bee

WHO messed with my jeans??!! I just put a pair of jeans on, and guess what, they don’t fit. They are too tight, uncomfortable and just generally VERY annoying. So off I go to my dresser and proceed to try on all jeans which are all too tight and uncomfortable and just generally annoying. I am not saying the cuss words I am thinking because you guys like me and talking like an Infantryman probably won’t do any good. Fortunately I kept the jeans that these jeans replaced so now I’m wearing the jeans that were in a stack on the closet floor waiting for me to decide about what to do with them. *mutter grumble mutter* This doesn’t bode well for trying on my swimsuit which I haven’t worn in a while or the other more “dress up” clothes I have to try on because I need to plan clothes for Lisa’s birthday trip….which we leave for on Saturday and omg what if ALL my clothes are this way and someone has messed with them ALL?! It appears that the *you ate all that crap over the holidays gremlin* has arrived and messed up all my clothes. I could cry but I’ll settle for stomping around.

Did I say that I don’t like this adulthood thing? Well I don’t. I don’t like worrying about my Mother. Nobody told me I was going to grow up and end up worrying about my Mom. Is this like pay back for when I made my Mom worry about me all that time? Well, it sucks. She’s had all these damned tests and they still haven’t found the cancer which they say they know is there because the blood tests and the bone breakage say so. So WHERE IS IT. Frustrating. If it’s frustrating for me I can only imagine how she must feel and there isn’t one thing I can really do about it. Plus, while they aren’t FINDING it they aren’t TREATING it which annoys me no end. Meanwhile my Mom is calmly warning me that depending on the outcome she may decide to do nothing because doing something could be worse for her quality of life than doing nothing. Because, she says, it is her choice after all. Yeah. I don’t like it. Not one bit, nope. So…more stomping around.

Are you sick of politics yet? I am. Oh so sick of it. We need a new President so fine, but still, I want to punch a politician, any politician will do. And this is only January. Heaven help me.

Ok I think that’s all the angry bee thoughts. I’ll try to behave better in the next post?

Conversations

"Looks like a tornado came through here"

"I imagine so, you have things all over the place?"

"Except the things I'm trying to keep track of. Those are in good shape. "

"Well once those things go out then the rest can get a little more orderly."

"See, from where I'm sitting right now, I don't have the highest of hopes. If it was under, near by, behind, next to, or in any other way remotely related to a piece of my TA-50 -- it kinda just got.. discarded randomly to "some other place not where my TA-50 is. Tornado."

"We have extra blue bin things, we can fix it."

"I also have this cool collection of upside down canteens going on propped against the arm of the sofa balancing on the edge of the ottoman. I'm going to be kinda sorry to see that go."

"Well, you could take a picture."

"I also might have to turn on the heat. that or add a kevlar chin strap and webbing to the already stunning brass decor of our chandelier for about 36 hours. They don't seem to want to dry."

"Perhaps you should hang the kevlar and webbing on the chandelier AND turn the heat on."

"Well see. there's an issue with the chin strap. I couldn't get it off the kevlar (it went through the dishwasher)"

"Ummm"

"I'm not sure it would be good to hang the whole helmet from the fixture."

"Try the shower curtain rod?"

"I seriously doubt that's as sturdy as the light fixture."

"Why do I have this feeling nothing smells good at home right now?"

Christmas Assimilation

We traveled for the Christmas holiday. The Midwest is cold. I knew this. I moved for a reason. It was really fun to be there and have woobe my shearling coat. It goes to my ankles and when I put the hood up I look like a little tiny monk or something. Travel actually went well. We shipped the presents ahead and they arrived all in one piece. We were delayed three hours in Houston (not bad at all compared to other places) and got to sit and watch the perfect family and the not so perfect family with bronchitis boy. The perfect family had three children, two girls and a boy, all young grade schoolers. The parents traded off, each child was rotating through a parent lap, playing on his or her own, and chatting along with the full attention of the parent--amazing. Suddenly Dad gets up and says "I need ice cream, who is going with me?!" Nice. Of course when they returned with ice cream Lt Dan wanted to steal the little boy's ice cream, saying "well, he's not EATING HIS!" Oh my.

The not so perfect family had a maybe six year old and bronchitis boy who was 16-18 months. Six year old is running all over the airport being obnoxious, more especially to this other six year old who had a toy he wanted to play with. Dad is standing waaay over there by the window doing nothing about anything. Mom is trying to contain screaming bronchitis boy in her lap and control the six year old all the while giving Dad dirty looks. It wasn't pretty. Of course not so perfect family is on our plane. Better yet, Dad and obnoxious child are in the seats in front of us, Mom and bronchitis boy are in the seat behind me. Perfect. The flight was three hours, bronchitis boy screamed, kicked my seat, beat his head on my seat nearly the entire time. Poor thing probably couldn't clear his ears and I imagine it hurt. Lt Dan slept through the whole thing while I practiced my compassion and understanding skills HARD.

I was assimilated. Yep. I am now part of the family I guess. Or at least as much as could be. We really had a very good time at my in-laws, I enjoyed it far more than I expected to. Really it was just a wonderful pleasant trip. I did my best to find my "place" and do what I could do to help with all the dinners and work generated by our visit and the holiday. I hope I did well, this was my first experience with the family since we were married. Lt Dan was awesome and full of surprises. The little things mean so much. Bringing me coffee in the morning so I could wake up in a somewhat normal way for me, coming to find me and give me a hug if I disappeared too long, just lots of little things that were unexpected and very special.

We made the trip to our trusted jewelry store the very next morning after we arrived, first thing when they opened. There is a whole wedding ring saga story but I'll skip that for now, suffice it to say the first one didn't work out, it kept trying to lose bits of itself until we finally asked for our money back. Lt Dan promised me it wasn't an omen! We had designed my wedding ring already on line but I was sure we were not going to be able to get it what with the holidays and such. The salesman brought the rings we had chosen and then we needed to pick the diamond for the engagement ring. Lt Dan was not happy with the size of the diamond we initially chose so while I was in the ladies room he told the salesman his budget and a much bigger diamond appeared. Wow. My rings are just so lovely and I am dazzled by them. Lt Dan strikes again when you least expect it. Gotta love him.

We did get to spend a few days before and a few days after here at home in the Sunny Place. That was the most wonderful thing for both of us I think. This is the first extended period of time we have gotten to spend in the Sunny Place house and it just felt so good. We did our New Year's Day walk on the beach, I took him to the Greek place for gyros and mimosas and we walked around a bay side neighborhood looking at houses and dream shopping. I was amazed he could do that walk and worried so much about his leg while we were doing it but we had a wonderful time. Happy New Year.

We travelled back to The Cave (that would be the apartment we have where Lt Dan is currently stationed) on the 2nd and signed in from leave. Spent the weekend together and now here I am, back at the Sunny Place getting ready to go to the dentist. Weeee. Such is our lives and its all as good as it can be. It is what it is.