But Dr Pepper ROCKS!

Parents, this might ring bells...

"But Mo-oo-oo-oom..."

Now, you really have to throw your heart into it to get the feel for what that's like. Pull deep from the gut, push out through the throat and moan like you're dying. Remember that from childhood? Wait, you were that perfect kid whose parents kept him in line? The one who would never talk to her mother that way? Oh, that's right, you were the kid I loved to hate for showing me up in front of the parents. Ok, well, you can practice this for the first time, and the rest of us will revel in those childhood memories.

For everyone else, did we ever get our way with that? I can't remember, either, but I think the answer was no. Maybe being sent outside to pout on the swings, maybe sent to clean the bedroom for the umpteenth time, but I can't recall a time when I got my tv show or candy or soda or toy. It never stopped me from trying, though!

You'll be pleased to know that the next generation is taking up the torch with aplomb. My daughter is usually the queen whiner in this house, no matter how many times I remind her that she won't be getting anything in that tone of voice. I have to hand it to my son, though...tonight he really rose to the heights of childhood intended guilt-inducing perfection. He wanted some Dr. Pepper that his grandmother had passed on to us after a cookout last Sunday. He casually wandered into the living room, swinging his arms from side to side without a care in the world, sidled up to my chair, and said "Mama, I still thirsty. I want somethin'."

To this I gave the age-old maternal reply without looking up from my reading, "You're more than welcome to some water, son."

Out of the corner of my eye I could see his shoulders slump and his face fall. "But Mama, I want Docta Peppah!"

"Sorry, son, you already had some. Water."

Apparently he knew his chances were shot, it being close to bath and bedtime and all...so he slunk away. But as he did, he uttered condemnation in his wake: "But Mo-oo-oo-oo-oom, Docta Peppah ROCKS!"

I had to turn and look at his little back as he went around the corner down the hall. Thank goodness I didn't need to hide the grin, because there's nothing so cute as a three year old admonishing you that "Docta Peppah ROCKS!"

Memorial Day and a retired flag

I retired our old flag the other day. It was faded and tattered from long days in the sun and wind. Retiring a flag is always a sad occasion for me. I haven't served under one, but I still feel some strange affinity for the flag. After so many days of greeting it as I come and go from our home, it's like saying goodbye to an old friend.

Our daughter is in Girl Scouts, just as I used to be, so when I was taking down the flag I heard the echoes of the Taps melody being sung by those little girls in my head:

Day is done
Gone the sun
From the earth
From the hills
From the sky
All is well
Safely rest
God is nigh

Knowing that the bugler plays that over our fallen men and women as mothers, fathers, wives, husbands, sisters, brothers, daughters or sons receive that crisply folded flag brought tears to my eyes. I gently folded our tattered flag and respectfully laid it on the bench to wait its final rest in the flames and ashes. Then I turned to unfurl the new flag and hang it on its new perch. The wind gathered under it and billowed the bright colors out against the green of the grass and the blue of the sky.

On this Memorial Day, please take a moment from your picnics and barbeques to remember those who gave their lives in service to our country. The flag isn't just a piece of cloth to them and their families. It's a symbol of all that is worth fighting and dying for.



Happy Memorial Day

I'm Bringin' Home a Baby Bumble Bee...

Bee Swarm Traps Workers in N.Y. Store
NEW YORK (May 23) - Thousands of bees have swarmed outside a New York City game store, trapping employees inside for hours.
Worried employees looked out the window of the Manhattan store while talking on the phone as the bees clustered Saturday afternoon. A sign in the window warned: "Look! ... closed due to bee infestation."

Source

Thankfully I'm not quite in the predicament that those poor people were, but it's getting to be a little nerve-wracking around here, too. We have had several bee sightings (and several killings or releases out the door or window, too) lately. I'm beginning to be a little paranoid about them, and I'm not sure if I'm hearing residual buzzing because I've been hearing it so often, or if the bees are actually so personable because they are nesting somewhere in the walls, floors, or attic.

Here is a little taste of the wonderful fauna we have encountered (no guarantees these are the exact types; I'm no entymologist, I just looked for ones that were as close to what I've seen as possible).


The glorious Bumble
[Thankfully not coming into the house this year, knock on wood.]


The godawful Carpenter Bee
[Which is wreaking havoc on my porch and window frames, as usual.]


Generic Paper Wasps
[Sadly for them, because of the horrible, enormous bees we've been doing battle with, paper wasps are no longer that scary. I even killed one with a fly swatter.]


Some Other Random Wasp
[This kind is much fatter in the gut than the paper wasp...I think they must be the couch potatoes of the family.]


The Enormous Ugly Black and Cream Striped Monstrosity
[These suckers are huge like horseflies, buzz like a million honey bees, and just generally scare the bejesus out of me. I have no idea what kind they are, and this pic isn't exactly like it, just an approximation. They actually have a sort of pattern on the back rather than just stripes.]

Speaking of honey bees, may I just say that while I will never again try to pet one like I did at five years old (bee-sting number two of four in my life), I am ever so fond of them in comparison with these hellions. If anyone knows a good way to discourage bees, please let me know. Until then, any buzzing sound (including the keys on my keyboard) is striking fear in my heart. Why can't the evil bees disappear instead of my honey bee friends?

On that note I'll leave you with my thought for the day:

The only good bee is a Burt's Bee.

Overly Sensitive

I would say "it must be that point of the deployment," but that really wouldn't be true. I'm a sensitive person and it takes very little to set my delicate emotional balance off-kilter, and the entirety of my life cum-Army/sans-Hubby has been a see-saw. I ride up to the heights of "I'm totally making it! I can do this! Easy-peasy! Look at me Army-wifing it!" to the lows of "this absolutely sucks, I'm scared to death, I'm lonely beyond measure, and I may just dissolve into a puddle of black despair before morning." There's no rhyme or reason to it, because the littlest things can set the balance swinging back the other way...but then again, sometimes not. You can imagine that this is disconcerting for everyone concerned. I will let you, because I would imagine that to be the case were I you.

I was reading blogs that I've favorited just now, and saw an update from an Army wife who hadn't posted to her blog in a good while. She said that all was well, her husband was home from his deployment and she was finally learning what it felt to lead a normal, mundane life (wonderful take-away quote: "Seeing each other, every day??? Crazy!" ). It reminded me that although I love my husband, although I want so much to be supportive of him...all I really want is that amazingly mundane, thrillingly normal life. I watch movies now and see couples who have never known more than a few days apart at the most, and wonder what that must feel like. Is it boring? Something is said about marriage, household responsibilities being split, or the accustomed ebb and flow of a couple's life, and I can't remember what that feels like. It's been over a year since the official word and orders came down. In that year we've been through separations for drills that covered SRP, weeks of pre-training in lieu of the two week annual training, the pre-mobilization training, the mobilization training, and now the full-on, boots-on-the-ground deployment. For someone to whom the Army is their life, that may be meaningless in the context of a string of field exercises, train-ups, deployments, and demobs. For a civilian who just wants a calm, normal life, though, it's forever and a day. It's like pruning a rose bush: the cut hurts until it heals, and even though it has healed, nothing will grow there again. It's a closed door, a lost opportunity, wasted time. Things may have been done, certainly there were many opportunities taken to do things, learn things, to grow and change. However, the side of the coin which shows the what could have been will never be flipped. An entire life changed by that choice years ago.

It's late, and perhaps I'm being melodramatic. Then again, my husband is in a war zone where people still die, I've been alone and worrying for months, and I still have many months yet ahead, so maybe I've earned the right to melodrama. Or maybe it's just the lower end of the see-saw. Time for me to push off with my feet instead of waiting for that bump that will send me into the air again. I think the first step toward getting back up will be a good night's sleep, so I'm off to my comfy bed.

Another Share...

I have something a bit shameful to admit...I have spent the last week catching up on years' worth of daily comics by Chris Muir: Day by Day. As I've been reading through the strip, I was reminded of Gary Trudeau's Doonesbury, another favorite of mine. Both cartoonists have a wonderful way of mocking the foibles of those in power while they draw the reader into an ensemble cast of characters. I'm not sure whether either artist would appreciate the parallel I'm drawing, but there it is.

I thought I would share a strip from last year to show Muir's work for those who aren't acquainted. There are so many great strips, but this is one that I really liked, honoring the military. Enjoy!




Link

A Chaplain's Recognition of the Spouse

Military Spouse Appreciation Day was actually Friday, May 8th, but of course you may notice that I missed blogging about it then. ;) It was the end of exam week and with a mind of mush I didn't really think of the day, much less blogging. So to make up for it, I'm going to share an article written by Air Force Chaplain Norris Burkes. He has just returned recently from a four month tour in Iraq at Balad Air Base, but at the time this article was written he had just volunteered for duty. Although we frequently hear praise for military members, Chaplain Burkes used his Veteran's Day column to speak in praise of his spouse.

Military spouses also have to 'volunteer'
11/08/2008
Veteran's Day gives me a lot to think about every year.

This Veteran's Day I couldn't help but think of the documentary I brought home a few months ago.

My wife doesn't especially care for documentaries, particularly the news this one brought. "Baghdad ER" is a documentary that HBO.com says "captures the humanity, hardships and heroism of the U.S. military and medical personnel of the 86th Combat Support Hospital . . ."

"I want us to watch this movie together," I said.

There was nothing subtle in my approach. My wife saw I was carrying some news of my own. Before she could respond, I answered the question I read on her face.

"The Air Force needs a chaplain volunteer for their hospital at Balad Air Base in Iraq. The hospital is specifically requesting a 'hospital-trained chaplain' for a four-month deployment."

I hurried to add: "It's a Level I trauma center, which does over 1,200 surgical procedures each month. They help everyone -- military, civilians and contractors as well as Iraqi soldiers, police, civilians and even detainees."

She stared into me, stuck on one word: "volunteer."

The thoughts of the military spouse upon hearing the word "volunteer" aren't normally as altruistic as those of the military member. Who could blame her if she suddenly exclaimed, "What makes you think I'm not the volunteer here? I would be volunteering for four months of solo parenting! I'll be volunteering to be single for four months!"

Instead, Becky simply said, "We'll watch it after dinner."

Afterward, we talked about the mutual meaning of the word "volunteer." We talked about everything from kids to car problems. We talked about updating our wills. I tried to soothe her with the fact that there hasn't been a chaplain killed in the line of duty since the Vietnam War. Not surprisingly, she found that factoid devoid of comfort.

I told her the pay would be great -- especially with hazardous duty pay. Again, I got nowhere, not even when I mentioned the $3.33 per day separation pay.

"Why do you want to do this?" she asked.

Ah, the "why" of a thing.

"If I retired, I wouldn't have to go." I said giving a commonly offered solution in the conflict between military members and their spouses. She wasn't biting.

"Why?" she repeated. "Why do you want to go?"

"I want to go because I want to help," I said, unable to state it more profoundly than that. "They need hospital chaplains. I'm one. I can't sit here while they declare they need someone. It's a need I know how to fill."

After nearly a week of discussion, she said, "You need to go. You need to feel you've done your share. I understand."

It was at that point, I composed my e-mail accepting the assignment. I called her to the computer and let her proofread the e-mail. Then I asked her to do a difficult thing.

"I want us to share this decision. Would you be willing to press the 'send' button?"

Her index finger hovered over the keyboard in hesitation. Then, she clicked "send" with a definitive push.

She did understand.

So this month, I have a favor to ask. As you offer a grateful handshake to a veteran, turn to the spouse and say, "Thanks for your understanding."

After all, most of them have certainly done more than they ever "volunteered" to do.

Find more articles from Chaplain Norris Burkes at his website, www.thechaplain.net.

Link

OPSEC

Anyone who has a connection with the military knows about OPSEC, mil-speak for "operational security." Its companion is PERSEC, "personal security." As you can see by the above images, OPSEC has been important since there were operations to keep secure, and the reminders have been around for ages. As a history buff, I love that many people still make use of the WWII-era posters to get the point across. PERSEC has become increasingly important with the advent and continued growth of technological capabilities which make the world a smaller and smaller place, after all.

OPSEC can be so frustrating for military members and their families. It seems like such a simple thing to do: don't mention units, dates, movements, or locations. But simple becomes more complex as individuals encounter specific situations: Can I share that something happened to my soldier? How much detail can I give? Do I have to keep things as vague as "later this year," or can I say "home by Christmas?" Do months and weeks matter, or only days?

For some of us, it's countdowns that are our weakpoints. Spouses love to countdown to reD-day...the day our military loved ones redeploy stateside. But a countdown on a public site could give away vital information. Sometimes units have had to postpone returning because a member or family member posted a blog or status update with critical information. Needless to say, the risk isn't worth sharing the information...every day counts!

In a larger sense, operational security is of the utmost importance. A convoy way-laid by an IED, a ship bombed leaving port, specific personnel targeted because someone learned their rank, name, and location...all are possible, and all are warning stories that are passed around. Loss of life and limb is not worth MySpace or Facebook comments.

The hardest thing about OPSEC is when it stops the sharing of information with the ones closest to us. When a spouse is told "something happened," but no details can be given about the incident, or when family gives unhappy looks because they can't be "trusted" with the details of leaving and returning, OPSEC becomes something of a curse. It's only the reminder that the safety of others may be on the line that keeps OPSEC a priority in those situations.

To all the family and military members who keep OPSEC, a grateful thank you from a fellow sojourner in the military march. To those who perhaps aren't as careful as they could be...please think before you post. We all have to do our part.