11.05.2009
You Make Us Proud
General Cone says the soldiers on scene did a tremendous job of treating the wounded. I would expect nothing less.
Horrifying
My mom just called, and told me about the shootings at Ft. Hood.
The president summed it up well: “It’s horrifying that [soldiers] should come under fire at an Army base on American soil.”
It sounds like not much has been confirmed yet, and I can't imagine the pain of those in the waiting game right now.
The president summed it up well: “It’s horrifying that [soldiers] should come under fire at an Army base on American soil.”
It sounds like not much has been confirmed yet, and I can't imagine the pain of those in the waiting game right now.
11.04.2009
Please Ignore the Toothpicks Holding up my Eyelids
Dan's mom stayed with Elijah for a few hours this afternoon. I took advantage of her presence to go grocery shopping without an assistant (and drive in the car in silence, and not have to talk to anyone but checkers for almost four hours. . . ). I also snuck in a wee bit of Christmas shopping. The respite was lovely. By the time I got home, I had accumulated enough energy to let Elijah help me work on the split-pea soup with me. And now I'm so tired I'm about to fall asleep typing. . . .
11.03.2009
Banner Day
Today Elijah wore his Thomas underwear all day without an accident. He ate an entire two-inch-by-four-inch cracker and two slices of cheese for an afternoon snack. He ate all of his potato and drank all of his milk (which was really kefir) at dinner. They weren't huge quantities, but he finished his portions, and was very proud of himself. And then he ate some more of Dan's potato, after a bit.
None of this means he'll eat at all tomorrow--in fact according to pattern he won't eat at all tomorrow, or really for the next several days or weeks. But every time he has a peak day, the peak is a little higher. And I'm encouraged that he's taking pride in finishing what's in front of him.
None of this means he'll eat at all tomorrow--in fact according to pattern he won't eat at all tomorrow, or really for the next several days or weeks. But every time he has a peak day, the peak is a little higher. And I'm encouraged that he's taking pride in finishing what's in front of him.
I Voted
Driving to the community center to cast my ballot always gets me to thinking: about how amazing it is that I can vote peacefully and easily, without risk to my financial or physical well-being, or even undue expenditure of my time; about what a privilege and a responsibility I have as a voting citizen.
10.30.2009
I had my first prenatal appointment today. We heard the heartbeat again, and everything else (whatever that entails) looked fine. The ultrasound last week didn't pay any attention to some of the things we really wanted to know, though, so we really aren't any forwarder in finding answers to our questions.
We have another prenatal visit scheduled in about a month, and in the interim, we're supposed to have a phone consultation with genetics--just in case any new information regarding genetic factors in isolated PRS have come to light--and an appointment with a perinatologist. The perinatologist is, perhaps not surprisingly, supposed to be better at looking for the kind of information we want on ultrasounds, and should be able to give us an idea of whether we'll be needing a higher level of monitoring through this pregnancy, or (we hope!) not.
We have another prenatal visit scheduled in about a month, and in the interim, we're supposed to have a phone consultation with genetics--just in case any new information regarding genetic factors in isolated PRS have come to light--and an appointment with a perinatologist. The perinatologist is, perhaps not surprisingly, supposed to be better at looking for the kind of information we want on ultrasounds, and should be able to give us an idea of whether we'll be needing a higher level of monitoring through this pregnancy, or (we hope!) not.
10.29.2009
This Ops Tempo is Killer
As a perfect illustration of what I was trying to say in my letter to Bob, AirForceWife and Rebekah Sanderlin offer up-close-and-personal accounts of how hard the current ops tempo really is for many military families.
10.27.2009
The Sun Did Not Shine
It was too wet to play. So we sat in the house all that cold, cold, wet day.
And Elijah made me a picnic! I got an open-faced spaghetti-and-meatballs and lettuce sandwich, and a chicken leg, and we shared the carrot and the bell peppers, and the can of corn.
The awesomeness of the endeavor was further compounded by the fact that at bedtime he quickly, and without needing to be hounded to death, put away not only the picnic food, but the Lincoln Logs that were covering the portion of the living room floor not visible in this picture.
And Elijah made me a picnic! I got an open-faced spaghetti-and-meatballs and lettuce sandwich, and a chicken leg, and we shared the carrot and the bell peppers, and the can of corn.
The awesomeness of the endeavor was further compounded by the fact that at bedtime he quickly, and without needing to be hounded to death, put away not only the picnic food, but the Lincoln Logs that were covering the portion of the living room floor not visible in this picture.
10.26.2009
Ambivalence
Dan's first drill since the deployment ended was this weekend. It was a MUTA 2--"MUTA" meaning Multiple Unit Training Assembly (according to Wiki), and "2" referring to the number of pay periods for the given MUTA. A "normal" drill weekend is a two-day long MUTA 4, so this weekend's drill was only one day long.
For several years now, the National Guard has been implementing a program called Freedom Salute, designed to foster family and soldier morale and increase the number of soldiers who reenlist instead of ETSing. This month's drill was essentially the Freedom Salute ceremony for this deployment (they had one after Dan's last deployment too, but I didn't find out about it until after the fact) combined with some of the lousiest reintegration briefings I could ever have envisioned, even in my wildest imaginings.
These briefings. . . . Oh, these briefings.
I had wondered why they waited until the unit had been home for two months before offering us reintegration briefings, but then I thought that perhaps they were waiting for the honeymoon period to end so that the folks who needed help would realize they really needed it, and benefit more from the briefings because they actually listened to them. Turns out though, they must have waited so long because they didn't want the briefings to hinder the reintegration process.
Seriously. that. bad.
I heard men walking out of the briefing room saying that what they had taken away from the chaplain's speech was a) committing a felony was okay, as long as you were in love; b) if you're in the military you should never get married; c) if you're in the Army you should never have kids; and d) the way to stop your kids from crying is to shake them really hard. He literally used an example of a man who had kidnapped and held hostage his soon-to-be-ex-wife's younger sister for years as a positive example of a relationship that was based on real love.
The whole affair--briefings and ceremony--was held at a convention center. After the briefings there was a nice catered lunch. We had the chance to sit and visit with a bunch of Dan's guys, including his gunner and both of his drivers. During the ceremony, each soldier or soldier-and-guests were recognized on stage by name and number of deployments, and given a flag in a nice display case if they had just completed their first deployment, or a nice clock if it was their second (or third, or fourth, or in one case, fifth). It was really a nice afternoon.
But while I appreciated the convention-center-and-catered-lunch (instead of an armory gym and Army cooking) and the relaxed pace of the day and the chance to meet the guys that Dan spent the last year plus with, I had a niggling uncomfortable feeling that increased exponentially while we were being formally recognized and given nice things.
After we got back to our seats and I had a chance to think about it for awhile, I decided that I felt a little patronized. The Army is very upfront about the fact that the Freedom Salute is a "recruiting and retention" program. And there's nothing wrong with running it as such, I don't think. I mean, there's nothing about its being a recruiting and retention program that necessarily prevents it from also being heartfelt and sincere.
Beyond that, though, I felt guilty. I wouldn't call this National Guard gig easy--it isn't the "fake military" any more, folks--and it's nice to have people recognize it. But most, if not all, of the active duty families are pulling a load that's much, much heavier. And I've got the strong impression that nobody's taking them out to lunch and giving them clocks and a pat on the back. If anybody deserves a ceremony like this, it's Sarah, whose husband left in July on his third deployment in five years, after what I swear was only nine months at home, or Rebekah, who's gotten to live with her husband for about half of the time they've been married, or the countless other women like them.
Maybe that's part of what made it feel like a pat on the head instead of a pat on the back: Part of me can't help but think that if they were really just honoring us for doing a good job, they'd be doing it bigger and better for the active duty folks.
And then again, I don't want to be ungrateful. I do appreciate the steps the Army is taking, however small, to try to make things a little better.
The speaker for the Freedom Salute ceremony was a Medal of Honor recipient. He was funny and self-deprecating, and didn't say a word about the actions that, "with complete disregard for his own personal safety," saved the lives scores of men and earned him the Medal of Honor. We got to shake his hand and listen to him tell stories, and and I got to talk with his wife after the ceremony was over. What a neat opportunity! It was by far the highlight of my day.
And the unit presented an engraved saber to S's parents, along with flowers, and the things which would have been awarded to him at the Freedom Salute. There's so little you can do; I was glad they made the gesture.
After it was all over, we had an early dinner with Dan's crew. We ate greasy food and I got to know the guys a little bit, while they razzed each other and caught up on what they've been doing since they got home. I was proud of Dan: His crew didn't avoid him, and they weren't just polite to him. They sought him out, took him out to eat, and made a point of introducing him to their significant others. He must have done something right.
For several years now, the National Guard has been implementing a program called Freedom Salute, designed to foster family and soldier morale and increase the number of soldiers who reenlist instead of ETSing. This month's drill was essentially the Freedom Salute ceremony for this deployment (they had one after Dan's last deployment too, but I didn't find out about it until after the fact) combined with some of the lousiest reintegration briefings I could ever have envisioned, even in my wildest imaginings.
***
These briefings. . . . Oh, these briefings.
I had wondered why they waited until the unit had been home for two months before offering us reintegration briefings, but then I thought that perhaps they were waiting for the honeymoon period to end so that the folks who needed help would realize they really needed it, and benefit more from the briefings because they actually listened to them. Turns out though, they must have waited so long because they didn't want the briefings to hinder the reintegration process.
Seriously. that. bad.
I heard men walking out of the briefing room saying that what they had taken away from the chaplain's speech was a) committing a felony was okay, as long as you were in love; b) if you're in the military you should never get married; c) if you're in the Army you should never have kids; and d) the way to stop your kids from crying is to shake them really hard. He literally used an example of a man who had kidnapped and held hostage his soon-to-be-ex-wife's younger sister for years as a positive example of a relationship that was based on real love.
***
The whole affair--briefings and ceremony--was held at a convention center. After the briefings there was a nice catered lunch. We had the chance to sit and visit with a bunch of Dan's guys, including his gunner and both of his drivers. During the ceremony, each soldier or soldier-and-guests were recognized on stage by name and number of deployments, and given a flag in a nice display case if they had just completed their first deployment, or a nice clock if it was their second (or third, or fourth, or in one case, fifth). It was really a nice afternoon.
But while I appreciated the convention-center-and-catered-lunch (instead of an armory gym and Army cooking) and the relaxed pace of the day and the chance to meet the guys that Dan spent the last year plus with, I had a niggling uncomfortable feeling that increased exponentially while we were being formally recognized and given nice things.
After we got back to our seats and I had a chance to think about it for awhile, I decided that I felt a little patronized. The Army is very upfront about the fact that the Freedom Salute is a "recruiting and retention" program. And there's nothing wrong with running it as such, I don't think. I mean, there's nothing about its being a recruiting and retention program that necessarily prevents it from also being heartfelt and sincere.
Beyond that, though, I felt guilty. I wouldn't call this National Guard gig easy--it isn't the "fake military" any more, folks--and it's nice to have people recognize it. But most, if not all, of the active duty families are pulling a load that's much, much heavier. And I've got the strong impression that nobody's taking them out to lunch and giving them clocks and a pat on the back. If anybody deserves a ceremony like this, it's Sarah, whose husband left in July on his third deployment in five years, after what I swear was only nine months at home, or Rebekah, who's gotten to live with her husband for about half of the time they've been married, or the countless other women like them.
Maybe that's part of what made it feel like a pat on the head instead of a pat on the back: Part of me can't help but think that if they were really just honoring us for doing a good job, they'd be doing it bigger and better for the active duty folks.
And then again, I don't want to be ungrateful. I do appreciate the steps the Army is taking, however small, to try to make things a little better.
***
The speaker for the Freedom Salute ceremony was a Medal of Honor recipient. He was funny and self-deprecating, and didn't say a word about the actions that, "with complete disregard for his own personal safety," saved the lives scores of men and earned him the Medal of Honor. We got to shake his hand and listen to him tell stories, and and I got to talk with his wife after the ceremony was over. What a neat opportunity! It was by far the highlight of my day.
And the unit presented an engraved saber to S's parents, along with flowers, and the things which would have been awarded to him at the Freedom Salute. There's so little you can do; I was glad they made the gesture.
After it was all over, we had an early dinner with Dan's crew. We ate greasy food and I got to know the guys a little bit, while they razzed each other and caught up on what they've been doing since they got home. I was proud of Dan: His crew didn't avoid him, and they weren't just polite to him. They sought him out, took him out to eat, and made a point of introducing him to their significant others. He must have done something right.
10.23.2009
Dah-na-na-na-na-nah!
Today I finished rough drafts of the last of my eight author bios, and drafted the ideas for the first lesson and set of assignments. Poetry, in case you're wondering: How to Give a Close Reading. (To those of you who always hated English in school, I apologize!) It was a tiny little step on paper, but it represents Big Things. I have finished the bones of the first third of the book. I have made actual progress on the part that I've been dreading since I started this project. In consequence, I am a little giddy.
Whooopee!
Whooopee!
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