The Next Thing

The first few hours of a deployment are oddly the same and predictably different. We close the door behind us, shutting out the rest of the world blissfully living its life. We look at each other, wipe away the tears and blow our noses. We smile and say, “We can do this,” and hope that we speak the truth.

Pumpkin Girl and Bip return to the living room to finish the movie they were watching when Philip’s ride arrived. Boo, my tenderhearted boy, seeks refuge upstairs. I can hear him crying. Actually, he doesn’t cry so much as he howls. No subtlety for that one. A few minutes he emerges, looking much smaller than usual and clutching his three best “warriors” – Bear, Sock Monkey and Donald Duck. I meet him at the bottom of the stairs and give him a hug and he starts howling again.

Boo will bear the brunt of this separation in different way than his siblings. He’s already known way too much loss and sadness for a boy his age and his already soft heart is heavily bruised. Someone once described him as being “sifted like Paul.” So I will do my best to take his burden upon myself.

“Boo,” I say, looking into his eyes, “we CAN do this. It isn’t going to be easy, but we will make it. What we need to do is take it one step at a time. We need to just make it through tonight and it’ll get easier. Do you think you can make it through tonight?”

He starts howling again. “Ok, then let’s do this – let’s just get through the movie. Then after the movie, we’ll work on getting through bedtime. Then we’ll just go to sleep and it’ll be morning and we’ll be through the first night.”

He sighs heavily and takes his warriors to finish the movie.

I stand up and try to figure out what to do next. I know that I, too, just need to get through one moment at a time. I go into the kitchen to try to find something to do. I see Philip’s commuter coffee mug in the dish strainer. I put it away. I find a few other of his things sitting where he left them. I take care of them, too, trying not to get too maudlin over how long it’ll be until he needs them again.

For tonight and the rest of this separation, we will survive by just getting to the next thing. When it gets to be too much, we will just focus on that next thing, each note on the calendar bringing us closer to reunion.

Inevitable

I guess it had to happen.  Winter is coming to an end and Spring is on its way.  For some people, this is welcome news and they embrace the warmer temperatures and lengthening days.  For me, it has the opposite effect.  Spring and Summer bring me down the way Winter does for others.  The warmer temps make me feel sluggish and tired.  The sun makes my skin itch.  Sigh.

Even in the blogosphere, signs of Spring are making an appearance.  Resigned to my fate, I have also changed my blog to reflect the season.  I do like the brighter, more playful colors.  I do have to apologize if you caught my blog mid-change a couple of days ago.  Philip arrived home while I was right in the middle of updating, and since we hadn’t seen him in 26 days, the blog had to wait.  I’m sure you’ll understand.

Anyway, if you’re reading through a feed reader or email subscription, come by and see my new Spring blog in person!  I read all of my blogs through a feed reader, too, so if you’ve also Springified your blog, leave me a comment so I can come by and see what you’ve done.

The Final Hours

yellowribbon.jpgThe final hours before a deployment or an extended TDY are the worst. The pit that’s been growing in your stomach slowly rises and lodges itself in your throat. Each passing minute brings another last moment. This is the last time he’ll tuck them in for a long time. This is the last story he’ll read, the last prayer, the last hug, the last kiss.

A million tasks, both big and small, steal the time. The to-do list grows longer, then shorter until there is nothing left. Brave smiles betray the emotions that are brewing.

Finally it’s time. There’s not much more that can be said and nothing more that can be done. It’s time to say goodbye.

And just like that…he’s gone.

note: On Tuesday, February 5th, Philip left for what turned into a 4 week temporary duty assignment (TDY) in Afghanistan. In the interest of security – both mine and his- I chose not to mention it until he safely returned. However, I did continue to blog during this time and over the next several days I’ll share those posts with you in the order they were written. Philip will have some guest posts, too, as I share some of the emails he sent.

Just Because

I have nothing exciting to post.  We didn’t “celebrate” Leap Day or do anything worth blogging about.  I did have a moment of inappropriate hilarity today at the Stations of the Cross as we started singing “At the Cross Her Station Keeping.”  I was thinking of what Pumpkin Girl said and what I wrote and then “Bohemian Rhapsody” started playing in my head. I choked back a giggle and gave myself a stern look and focused harder.

Honestly, sometimes I’m no better than a kid.  Maybe it was the smell of the carbohydrate heaven soup supper waiting for us in the activity room.

Mostly, though, I wanted to post something on this date since I won’t have a chance for another 4 years.  At that time Bip will be 6, Pumpkin Girl will be 11 and Boo will be 13 – and let’s not even go there.

Dancing with Machetes

So they’ve been at this ballet folklorico thing for a few months. The whole reason Boo agreed to try dance classes was because he remembered seeing a folklorico machete dance. He thought would be pretty OK. So he patiently waited to learn a machete dance. I told him that he should ask his teacher. But at the end of September, he came home all smiles, telling me how the new dance they are learning has…machetes! I don’t care what the experts might say, but there is something on the boy DNA that attracts them to weapons – and showing off their weapons. Because the story behind the machete dance is basically that the men working in the sugar cane fields are showing off their machete skills for the pretty senoritas.

And just for fun, here’s a folklorico dance with the machetes. Boo is a beginner, of course, so he doesn’t have all the fancy moves, just hitting them under and over his legs. He says dancing with machetes is pretty easy, “Just swish them around and try not to cut off your ear.” Good advice, Boo.

But that was before he whacked his sister in the ear while practicing.

(Be sure to watch the video through to the end, when the men pull their head bands over their eyes)

Reinventing Ourselves

In less than two years, my husband will probably retire from the Army. He’s not actually retirement age, the way that civilians count it. But he entered the active duty Army almost 20 years ago, right out of college, which means that he will soon be eligible for all the retirement benefits.

He didn’t mean for this Army thing to be a career. He had to pay off his ROTC “debt” with 2 years of service, then he was going to get out and go to law school, become a high powered attorney and make lots of money to set me up in a lifestyle to which I could easily become accustomed. But he kept attending exciting Army courses like Airborne School and Combined Armed Services Staff School, and in return for all those fun and games, he owed the Army more time in service. The next thing we knew, he’d been in for about 6 years and they were offering him a company command. Then 6 years turned in to 10 and if you stay in for 10, you might as well do 10 more and get those retirement benefits.

So here we are.

He could stay in past 20 of course, but we both feel like the Lord is leading us down a different path.

It’s hard to think about, living life as a civilian. I hear that y’all don’t have “To the Colors” and the National Anthem play at 5 o’clock all across your city. Children at play don’t know to stop what they’re doing, face the music and put their hand over their hearts.  And they tell me that your stores don’t have parking spaces marked “General” and “Colonel”, nor do military personnel in uniform have priority at the grocery store during duty hours.

Hmm.  And what exactly do you call where you live, if it’s not a housing area?  And how do you remember which identical house is yours if your husband’s name and rank isn’t tacked near the front door?

And when you go to the movies, nobody stands when the National Anthem is played right before the movie…because they don’t play the National Anthem!

Philistines!

I’m not sure how we’re going to adjust to life in the civilian arena.   I guess we’ll find out sooner or later.

More Fun With Google Search

These are some of the recent Google searches that have led people to my little ol’ blog.  In the interest of making my blog a warm and inviting place to be, I have tried to supply the information that people were looking for.

1. How do pirates celebrate Christmas?
willturner.jpg Well, since most pirates bore little resemblance to Captain Jack and Will Turner, (either in looks or behavior) I would guess that pirates didn’t do much to celebrate the birth of Jesus. However, Boo says that pirates celebrate Christmas by drinking eggnog – glug, glug, glug!

Yeah, and like I need an excuse to put this picture on my blog!

2. My house is always trashed.
Sorry, you’re on your own here.

3.  itunes I’m getting married to lorri
I swear that was really a search. Even spelled my name right. I have no idea what it means though.  Unless my husband has secret career in song writing.

4. What happens if my vistaprint order is late?
I’m guessing that it won’t arrive on time?

5. Where does Mac and Cheese come from?
kraftmacaronicheese.jpg

6. Does mac and cheese go bad?
This is the number one search phrase for my blog. The answer is yes. No matter how hard we try, mac and cheese will sometimes go bad.  Why?  Poor parenting, falling in with the wrong crowd, we may never know.

7. Songs about Lorri
Another one? What is this all about? Really, I must know.

8. Mac and cheese poems
Honestly, this is getting silly. I’ve gotten this search a couple of times, but I’m afraid that whoever is looking has been disappointed. So to remedy that, I have composed a little something I called “Ode to the Mac and Cheese”

ahem

Mac and Cheese
We love to eat it
When we cook
We don’t have to beat it

Creamy cheese
and pasta, too
Sad to say,
One serving won’t do

Oh warm and comforting Mac and Cheese
Why can’t you have low calories?

9.  How to dress up Mac and Cheese
Don’t bother.  You can dress it up, but you can’t take it out.

Not The Same Thing

Dear Online Scrapbook Company,

Thank you for your quick response to my inquiry.  As I stated, on your order form, you do not have an option for Washington, DC which means that I cannot order from your company.  Directing me to look for “Washington State” on the list and telling me that I should “have no problem finding it” was not exactly the help I was looking for.

This would be wonderful and accurate advice if I actually lived in Washington State.  Again, I live in Washington, DC.  You know, our nation’s Capital.  While similar in name, the two are in fact, different and are several thousand miles apart.  I need you to list DC or District of Columbia on your list.  If I was to choose Washington, my package would probably be lost.

Because you have chosen not to address my actual problem, I will be spending my money elsewhere.

Thank you,

Lorri in Washington, DC

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