OK! It has been a few months

Well, it is July 8th, 2009. It has been awhile since I wrote. Hubby was home for his mid-tour leave. He slept for literally 5 days straight. Waking to eat only. I guess a week of travel after fighting a war for 6 months will do that to a man. After he awoke he did yard work. I know that probably sounds not very restful but he loves to be outside and in Afghanistan being outside isn't really the safest thing. He put down two truckloads of mulch. Made a new bed around some trees, planted more bushes etc.... He was tired in a good way, dirty from digging in the dirt and drank some nice beer and smoked meat in his smoker. Then he left. It was really hard to see him go. I knew he was going into the Summer there, the most dangerous time. It is dangerous because that is when the Taliban fight but also because of the intense heat. I just looked and the temperature for today is 110*. How can you drink enough to live in that amount of heat with so much clothes and protective gear on?? I just can't even imagine it. The Marines are in Helmud province fighting the Tali ban so they are scooting out of there to the North/East (which I don't like one bit because that is in Jim's direction) and also further to the West. I say burn the poppies, cut off the money they make. Pay the poor farmers for the loss of the crop and move on.

Sooo, life just kept moving on. In May I had surgery on my Right shoulder. It turned out to not be a torn rotator cuff but rather a chewed up rotator cuff, a bicep muscle that was entrapped (so they cut off part of my clavicle), bone spurs, arthritis, tendinitis and they took out my bursa for good measure. In case you are wondering, Yes! it hurt. The surgery seemed to go OK at least for me. I heard from my daughter that they evacuated the hospital for a drill or something. I stopped breathing was mentioned but brushed over since I assume they were able to get me breathing again quickly. The surgeon who didn't believe me that it needed surgery to begin with thought he was right when he started on the topside of my shoulder. That part looked wonderful. He called it "Happy Bunnies". He then went to the underside and found the "Evil Bunnies with fangs and black capes". I am not sure why he told me about the surgery in bunny terms but he did along with actual photos of the inside of my shoulder.

So since then I have been doing physical therapy. Three times a week..... It is good and bad. I really like the office I go to, the Pt's and exercise specialists are amazing and fun. I just wish it was all better already. It still hurts and I am sick of it. Just today they tried a new thing that I think actually helped. My main issue is I have had my trapezius and biceps in spasm literally for years and they don't know how to not do it. Sooo today I had it lasered and they put some tape stuff on. It feels like my trapezius is finally not in total spasm. It isn't like they haven't massaged it to an inch of it's life, electrical stimulation, ultrasound, heat, ice, stretching over and over...... I just hope this is the answer.

I am frustrated, can't you tell ha-ha? My shoulder is better in some ways than before. My bicep muscle was entrapped making part of my arm and last two fingers to go numb a dozen times a night waking me up. That was gone instantly after the surgery. My rotator cuff hurts less and I can definitely move it more without pain. Where they had to cut bones and dig around in there still hurts though. I think some of that is due to the muscles in spasm. (I keep mentioning botox but they laugh and say it would not have the results I would like)

Enough of the lament about the shoulder. I am glad I am done with the surgery. Now I must be patient with the recovery. I am not so good at that part.

I will try to be better at writing. I can sit and type for longer so it should be easier.
Pray for shade for those in the hot sun!

Need VS Need

Right now what I NEED to take a break. Like a week long vacation away from the house, alone in a hotel room getting massages every day. Need, I don't mean want, I mean need. I am under a ton of stress and there is no way to relieve it. I feel helpless, hopeless and just plain worn out. I have been having some weird occular migraines. Really pretty to look at but scary none the less. I need a break from parenting, I need a break from taking care of the house and the bills and buying the food and the animals..........

What I also need is to go to physical therapy to get ready for my shoulder surgery next month. I need to make sure the van gets a new windshield because it is broken badly. I need to pick my mother and father in law up at the airport. I need to get my son from school after his track practice. I need to be ready for seeing my husband after so many months. I need to .................

The need to do the second bunch will outweigh the first. I have to find a way to fit me in. I feel a bit like the pond in Spring with tiny cracks around the edges. If I am not careful there will be holes and no one needs that! The good news is the soldier is on his way. He should be here at home by tomorrow night. Maybe we both could just curl up in bed and sleep? That sounds really good!

God's lesson

Well my last post I stated that I wasn't a patient person. I guess God sees that as a challenge. I still don't have a date of when Jim will arrive. The most current guess of when he will leave Afghanistan is April 11th. The fighting has been intense from what I can gather. He gives out no information really. He did send me a link to an article about one. http://www.dvidshub.net/?script=news/news_show.php&id=32037

So I understand that travel is dangerous and that he is needed. I would be lying if I didn't say I need him to and that I just want him home. I was find for months and months with little contact but when the hope of him coming home was placed before me I took it. Now it just keeps getting moved and that is really really hard. We made plans for his original come home date and that has passed days ago. My mother had hoped to see him, she is already at home at at work. The boys have Spring break this week. We were going to do all sorts of things but they all included Jim. I feel sorry for the boys. Their break was anything but fun. We had hoped to spend Easter with him that won't happen either. His parents arrive on the 15th. If he gets out on the 11th and makes great connections he should get to see them.

We all sit here waiting and worrying. We understand that he isn't coming because it is too dangerous to travel. God is teaching me patience. I must be patient that when the perfect time for him to come arrives he will leave there and start his trek here. God is teaching me that I can make plans, lots of people can make plans but he is the one in charge and knows best.

Pray that Jim's travels are safe and soon!

I am not a patient woman

I thought I had the patience of Job. I don't! Jim said he was going to come home for his mid-tour leave in either March or April. Now it is some time in April?? Maybe??? I don't know what to tell people because I don't know anything. In the past days I have gotten one email from him that said "No word yet...probably more like the middle of the month. Love, Jim" No kidding! That is it, I haven't edited it for public consumption that was it in it's entirety. His parents have purchased airline tickets so they can come and see him.

The worst thing is I have seen too many programs on TV where the military person shows up somewhere to surprise their spouse, children, mother, father etc. Somewhere in a very tiny place I hope he is on his way already and will just show up somewhere. That isn't the way he works but it is one of those irrational dreams.

So no, I am not patient. I wait impatiently, I worry endlessly and I dream.

I swear I am not crazy… I think…

I know I am under a great deal of stress. I am mentally aware of this fact. I am dealing with two teen boys myself, a daughter in college, three cars to maintain, a house, a yard, had knee surgery, need shoulder surgery, my grandmother died, the Taliban are shooting at my husband…. It is truly too much I get that but I have been dealing with it ok. I get grumpy sometimes but I have been ok.

You know there is an “until” coming right ha-ha! I was at a party the other night. I had a few glasses of wine but not excess. I was about to go and I just burst into tears. Literally just started to cry and could not stop. I was having a great time, was comfortable and it seems that was the time my brain went to tilt and I lost it. I don’t remember walking home even. I remember sobbing for hours in bed. I woke up just completely and utterly spent. No desire or need to cry since or before. All I have to say is it was very very embarrassing. I am sure people thought I was drunk or something but it just wasn’t that. Not the way you want to exit a fun party. I called to apologize. I didn’t really know what to say? “I am sorry I went bonkers last night”???

This same thing happened to me years ago. I was conducting a large round table meeting for military spouses about the return of their deployed husbands. The meeting was going well and again for some unknown reason I lost it and just starting uncontrollably crying.

Admitting this and writing about it is hard. I am not the type who falls apart. But I guess that is why I am writing about it. If it can happen to me it can happen to anyone. Just pick yourself up and move forward. Try to find ways to relieve the stress before it builds up to tilt . Try not to be embarrassed. I say that not able to do it myself. It just proves that you can want to be strong, act strong 99.999% of the time but the stress will always win if you don’t do something.

Now on to how to relieve stress….
Exercise: I am going to physical therapy twice a week for my knee and shoulder. I am also trying to ride on the recumbent bike a few times a week besides that.

Talk to friends: This one is good but hard for me. I have so much going on that when I call I feel like I am constantly unloading on them. Who wants to be the friend of the person whose life is a pile of stress?

Accomplish something: I do feel better when I accomplish something. Set a goal and achieve it. This has also been hard because of the knee surgery and my current shoulder pain. Hard to do much when everything you do causes pain.

Anyone else have any ideas? I would rather not burst into tears in public again ha-ha!

Why does the Poison Oak hate me so??

I go in the yard to do weeding
To prepare for the new plant seeding

I pull up the dead
Cleaning out the winter bed

Sitting on the ground
Digging around

I make a nice pile of debris
Go around the cute small tree

Everything looks delightful
No more the mess that is frightful

I go in the house and scrub
To get rid of any dirt I rub

Go to sleep at night
Wake up to a sight

It seems the poison oak has found me
Where you say? On my knee!

My knee is so red
The itch makes me out of my head

I should have known not to lie
On the ground though it was dry

I suffer from pain
It is such a drain

Why does the poison oak hate me so?
I don’t think I will ever know!

Why do I do that to myself?

I sit here late at night not able to sleep. You may ask me why I can’t sleep. Army wives know certain things we should do, shouldn’t do and things we just do automatically. We mentally go over the knock at the door scenario, men in uniform, the chaplain, all coming to give bad news. We wonder if we will collapse, if we will scream…. It is a bit morbid but some how we think that if we think it over, get the picture in our head we will be able to endure if it happens. We don’t start the day planning to think this over, it just comes. I was reading the news. 4 American soldiers were killed in Southern Afghanistan by a roadside bomb. Was it my American soldier in Southern Afghanistan? Was it my husband of 22 years, my friend of 28 years, the father of my 3 children? They say they won’t release the exact place until they notify the family. So they haven’t notified yet, so I could get the knock on the door. The next paragraph in the articles was the next worst attack was in Zabul province in January. That was the pressure sensitive bomb that took my husband’s friend. Seeing that makes it all even more real. Thinking about that makes my stomach hurt, makes tears come to my eyes and I don’t think my mental preparations are going to turn out to be helpful. I emailed my soldier to ask if he got the boxes I recently sent to him. I don’t want to say “please email me because I can’t sleep until I know you are safe”. Why did I do that to myself? Why did I have to read the article about Afghanistan?

**He emailed me the next day and he got his packages I sent :) **

His legend lives on or Elvis hasn’t left the kitchen

This is a short story about neighbors and the sharing of a new recipe. I was in Wisconsin for Christmas with my family. My mother lives in the neighborhood I grew up, some of the neighbors are the same as when I lived there many years ago. Cindy lives next door to my mother. She is a sweet woman who is a dear friend. She was especially a friend to my Grandmother who died in November. I am sure Cindy misses her greatly. I babysat her two children when we were all young and she catches up on me when I visit and I catch up on her and her family.

Cindy came over one day to chat. With her she brought a plate of freshly baked cookies. Selections of a few different types of cookies to pick from were displayed nicely on a Christmas plate. She started telling us about the different types she baked up that morning. One type she was really interested in having us taste was the Elvis cookies. My mom grabbed one and broke it into three parts. The cookie was broken evenly one third of a cookie piece for her, one for my sister-in-law Irina and one third for me to eat. We all popped our little part of the cookie into our mouths. At first it tasted pretty good, peanut butter cookie tasting, with some banana to give it nice moisture. Then as you chewed a bit you noticed something really chewy in there. Bits of something smoky tasting started to show up as you chewed. Chew, scrunch eyebrows trying to figure it out. As Cindy can see we are all very confused she started to explain.

It seems that Elvis’ favorite sandwich was peanut butter, bananas and bacon. No, that wasn’t a typo, I did say bacon. These cookies were Elvis cookies, designed in his honor. Peanut butter, bananas and diced up pieces of bacon. I tell you we all wanted to spit so fast you can’t imagine. We did all manage to swallow the 1/3 of cookie and pass on any future ones. There is something fundamentally wrong with the idea of a cookie a wonderful peanut butter one especially that has bacon added to it.

So the lesson of the story is ask your neighbors (even your very sweet ones) what they are feeding you BEFORE you put it in your mouth. We all tried to get others to taste those cookies but we had no more takers. The word of the bacon peanut butter cookies spread.

For your pleasure:
ELVIS COOKIES
• 1 cup smooth peanut butter (because you wouldn’t want to confuse the bacon lumps and nuts!)
• ½ cup packed light brown sugar
• ½ cup granulated sugar
• 1 large egg, lightly beaten
• ¼ cup all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• ½ cup crumbled cooked (very crisp) bacon (about 6 strips)
• ½ cup diced firm banana
Heat the oven to 350.
In a large bowl, combine the peanut butter and two sugars. Beat until well combined. Beat in the egg until just combined. Set aside.
In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour and baking soda. With the mixer on low, add flour and soda to peanut butter mixture, scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed.
Gently mix in the bacon and bananas, trying not to mash the bananas.
Using slightly wet hands, roll rounded teaspoons of dough into balls and place on the prepared baking sheets, leaving about 1 inch. Dip the tines of a fork into water, then flatten the cookies until they are about 1 ½ inches around.
Bake on the middle rack for 11 minutes. Cool cookies on the baking sheet for 2 minutes, then remove with a spatula to racks to cool completely. Makes 30 cookies.

Changed the names to protect the innocent

I am writing about my experience visiting the former Soviet country of XXXXXX. I went there in March 2006 for my brother’s wedding. He married a woman from the capital city of AAAAAA. Before I begin, I want to say that the people of XXXXXX were warm, friendly and I truly enjoyed my time with the civilians. My sister-in-law’s family and friends are generous wonderful people. I also want to say that I am a stay at home mother of 3, my husband is an officer in the United States Army and I have lived in Germany for 6 of the 22 years he has been active duty. The only capacity I have ever worked for the US government was as a substitute teacher.

I arrived in XXXXXX with the appropriate VISA requirements, passport and all papers in order. I was told that there was a requirement that in three business days I would have to register at an office in the city as a foreign visitor. I arrived on Thursday, that deadline would be Monday from my calculations.

It became very obvious quickly that we were being watched/monitored. We stayed in an apartment and it was patrolled at least hourly. I could see police and military walking past the building 24 hours a day carrying a weapon. Because of jetlag and wedding I was awake at all different hours to personally see this myself.

On Monday my Mother and I were taken to the government office where we were to sign in as stated when we arrived in the country Thursday. When we arrived there with my sister-in-law’s brother things got very strange. He turned in our paperwork and we sat there for a very long time. My sister-in-law’s family has done this process many times as they have family and friends that come from the Ukraine and other countries to visit. This time was different. There were a few people working in the office and soon our paperwork was being passed back and forth, phone calls were being made etc. I don’t speak Russian which is what they were speaking so I have no idea what exactly was being said but the facial expressions were not good.

My mother and I sat getting more and more nervous at time went on. Vadik (sister-in-law’s 19 yr old brother) was extremely nervous and upset. His face was getting paler by the second. Soon we were told that because we had not come in within 72 hours we would have to go to court and see a judge. It suddenly became not 3 working days but literally 72 hours from the time we arrived. To see the judge we would need an appointment with the court and a lawyer to fill out the paperwork. Our flight to leave the country was Tuesday morning. This all had to be done extremely quickly in order for us to make our flight out of the country.

The people working in the office gave Vadik a phone number of a lawyer. He called the lawyer and we were to meet him outside of the courthouse in a few hours. We walked to the courthouse at the appropriate time and met him. We went inside, he gathered the correct paperwork and with Vadik translating we filled out the paperwork. We were told to beg forgiveness, to explain we were busy with the wedding etc. While sitting waiting for the lawyer to fill out paperwork I showed Vadik pictures in my wallet of my family. One my husband and myself he asked me to quickly put away as my husband was in his military uniform. He was afraid if they didn’t know before that if someone saw that it would make matters worse.

Finally it became time for us to meet with the judge. When we entered the room my sister-in-law’s mother was there, Vadik, my mother a secretary, the judge and I. The judge looked over the paperwork and instantly turned to me. No one else in the room mattered at all. The judge then questioned me over and over why I hadn’t signed in, why I was in the country, what I did in the United States…. On and on he asked me things. He did this speaking Russian and Vadik translated for us. I kept telling him over and over I was in XXXXXX for the wedding of my brother, that I didn’t sign in because I was told it was 3 working days, I was a stay at home mom in the United States. He very obviously didn’t believe me at all. He was visibly angry that I wasn’t telling him the things he wanted to hear. He had no proof that I was anything other than what I said I was so eventually we were made to pay a big fine for our not following the rules and we were released. But we were still being watched very closely.

Monday night very late we got a call that our flight had been cancelled or delayed. We made plans then to leave on a flight that was leaving XXXXXX on Wednesday. We arrived at the airport Wednesday and prepared to leave. The check-in process was a complete mess. I was forced to pay a huge fee for each bag I carried. I was also questioned by the security quite extensively while my mother was waved through again.

We were escorted onto the plane by 3 flight attendants. We were put in the very front of the plane behind the pilot and the 3 attendants sat around us and a curtain was pulled between us and the other passengers on the plane.

Why I was so obviously followed and harassed by the authorities in XXXXXX I really don’t know. My only guess is because I live in Virginia my passport was issued by the state dept. I think possibly because of this they thought I worked for the state dept. in some capacity. The judge very certainly thought I held some sort of government position and I was lying to him about it.

My reason for writing this for Alla is to put a face on the paranoia of the former Soviet countries. If a stay at home mother living in Virginia visiting one of these countries is monitored, taken to court, flights changed, fees charged etc. I only can guess what a citizen of that country would go through if he or she had true knowledge of information that the government deemed critical or dangerous. XXXXXX is a poor country with little resources; YYYYYY is the right hand to Russia. I think the paranoia would be exponentially worse.

It's Sorta like the Flu

It is sort of like having the flu, you never get better at it. My husband James has been in the Army for 22 years, I have been along for the entire ride. He is currently deployed to Afghanistan. He left for training the end of July 2008, arrived in Afghanistan in November. That means he will hopefully be home next year in November. I love to talk to people but when they hear that my husband is deployed they usually say something like "well, you are probably used to it by now". For years I just nodded and moved on, but it hurt. My heart never feels used to my husband being gone in harm's way. I just didn't know how to explain it to people.
We survived Thanksgiving this year. It was the three children and me. My knee has been painful for sometime because of a cyst that needed surgery. So for Thanksgiving all the kids and I worked together to make a pretty amazing meal. We said our thanks, we were grateful that we four could be together and that Jim was able to email that day so we knew he was alive and safe at least for that day.
I scheduled the knee surgery for the day after my daughter's last exam. I needed an adult to take me to the hospital and back. With Jim gone I had no one who could do that for me. I have a hard time asking for help. It just always feels like I should be helping others and asking for help for myself is difficult. I am working on that character fault. So, December 12 I had knee surgery. It was really hard not to have Jim there. I was scared and could have really used his support, humor and kick butt attitude to get me there. I had to do that myself, I had to assure the kids that I would be ok and that everything would be fine. I wasn't sure myself but I had to make them believe it. I am sure I was grumpy and not the best mom. That makes me embarrassed, that my fears and sadness rubs off on them.
I had surgery, all went well and I came home that afternoon. Jim tried to call me that evening. I was able to tell him that the surgery was a success and that all was well. The phone line went down in Afghanistan so we were not able to really talk. It was nice to hear his voice, like a little hug from across the world.
The next few days are a painful blur that was only made better because of my angel of mercy (my daughter). She got up every four hours and gave me pain medicine, helped me get up when needed and fed me when I was hungry. I had two friends who came and sat with me. The real kind of friends that ask you and don't take no for an answer. They ignored my "I will be fine" comments and came anyway.
The children and I had planned to drive from Northern Virginia to Wisconsin to spend Christmas with family. Jim and I met in high school working at a one screen movie theater in my hometown. My mom still lives there for now. Going to Wisconsin without Jim is always a little painful, fun, love filled, but sad too because he isn't there to remember the past with me. We left early in the morning and drove straight through. I couldn't drive so the two older children drove. I sat painfully, very painfully with my leg propped up on the dash for 15 hours.
Driving into my mom's driveway was so wonderful. The Christmas tree was visible in the front window, the snow piled high in the front yard. I extricated my unbending leg from the dash of the car and with help, made it into the house. I was given food, pain pills, water to drink, a bag of frozen peas for my knee and a big fat warm blanket. It was so nice to have my mom taking care of me like when I was little. I slept in the recliner that night, waking to take more pain pills as needed. That trip wasn't easy at all. Not one I would suggest for anyone eight days out of knee surgery.
I hadn't heard from Jim in a few days. I was getting worried but know that no news is usually good news, but I still worry. Each time I see a new email from him I know he was ok up until the minute he wrote that email and that gives me a little jump forward to the day when he will be home. Tiny little baby steps of him safe, bit by bit he will be ok and then come home. It turns out that there was an underground earthquake somewhere that disrupted the Internet service. Who would think that an underground earthquake somewhere on the globe could cause me to hold my breath for days on end?
I am in Wisconsin, resting my leg mostly, my children are happy and entertained. It was a good thing to come. It keeps their minds off their Dad not being here for Christmas. Jonathon just left for a night of movies at my brother's house. Jeffrey is showing my other brother how to play a video game on the computer. Jennifer is working on a gingerbread house. I always make sure to tell them when I have heard from their dad and when I haven't. I fill them in on the news he tells me which is little. Today, James had a story about being in a meeting and a little mouse running up and down the curtains. Then, it suddenly jumped off and onto the table running off with a stolen nut. Jeffrey thought that was pretty funny. We couldn't figure out how he didn't laugh really hard and disrupt the meeting. Stories like that make it seem human, safe and yet real.
The children and I are working hard to make the best of a bad situation. We want more than anything that James were here. Since we can't have that, we want him safe and we want to have people around us who love us. We will spend Christmas Eve with my family and Christmas day the children and I will go to James' parents home to spend the day with them. s it ok? Are we ok? Are we used to it? The answers are, No, it isn't ok!, We are ok, and Heck no! We are not used to it! When you get the flu the second, third or fourth time is it ok? Are you going to be ok? Are you used to it? You are not ok, you know you will eventually be ok again but in no way are you used to it just because you had to endure it before.