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.