Complaining about the easy life …

On my way to work this morning I passed a group of Soldiers who had obviously been at the nearby Shoppette (civilian version of gas station) from the bags of treat they carried and were walking back to the railhead about three-quarters of a mile away. At first I saw three and thought to stop and offer them a ride, but looking ahead I saw a much larger group. Living near the railhead, I knew that most likely they were on break from either loading or unloading the train cars. Their chatter and laughter was evident even from inside my vehicle and it caused me to think.

We (Americans) live in a world of luxury and ease. We read the news, watch on TV or hear stories of poverty, despair and destruction, but these Soldiers have seen it with their own eyes. When I compare our trivial issues to what they endure I am ashamed.

We complain when we wait 45 minutes for our food to be brought to the table when we eat at restaurants, but when is the last time we had to walk a mile to a dining facility just to get a hot meal.

We are irritated and put out when the TV in the next room or neighbor’s apartment is too loud and keeps us from sleeping, but when is the last time we had mortars and bombs interrupt our sleep?

We complain when we have to haul bags of groceries up flights of stairs because the elevator is broken, but when is the last time we had to walk from our room to the bathroom with a rifle and 70 pounds of protective gear?

We scream, curse and rant at driving in rush hour traffic, but when is the last time we had to travel in a single file convoy at 35 MPH, guns ready, eyes scanning the horizon praying feverishly that the vehicles in the front and back of us carrying our friends doesn’t suddenly explode from an unseen bomb?

We complain when our children drag mud and dirt onto our clean floors, but when is the last time we had to wait out a dust storm, sand swirling around us, darkness overshadowing us thankful that at least we’ve got shelter to keep out of the wind.

We complain that our children have once again spread all of their clothes and toys about their room, but when is the last time we lived out of a green duffle bag, clothes spread out to “air out” so we can wear them “one more” day before going to the laundry.

We get frustrated at the clutter on the fridge door as collections of prized artwork and good grades fall to the ground when the door is opened, but when is the last time we taped up those same pictures and schoolwork because it was the only link we had to our loved ones.

When you think about all that we have, yet still manage to find reasons to complain, it sounds so trivial and childish … nay, it sounds selfish and greedy. How does a country who has come so far in freedoms of its people, manage to be burdened by the very things that we take for granted.

Tonight, when the children leave their wet towels on the floor after their bath, or you pick up dirty dishes from the table long after everyone has gone off to their separate activities, don’t complain or grumble that once again YOU have to do everything. Be happy that you have people in your life who are your EVERRYTHING and that caring for them is a great gift from God.

You don’t know what you have until it’s gone, and military Families learn that lesson with every separation and deployment.

Until our next cup of tea ...

The boys are back in town ...

I know it's been a while since I posted here, but just wanted to say ... I'm back! So much has been going on. It took nearly 4 weeks for themto bring home 3,500 Soldiers and between work, school, home life and welcome home ceremonies, I am exhausted.

Friday was the welcome home ceremony held on post and let me tell you, it was a grand affair. From the helicopters delivering the dignitaries (state representatives and mayors, and military leaders) to the various speeches (there were SIX guest speakers!) to the gathering of Families of fallen Soldiers.

Here are some of the pictures I took to commemorate the event ...









There were so many people there. I was lucky to get to park at the event because I chauffered the commander's family (Let. Col. and higher were the only ones who didn't have to ride the prison-inspired white military buses from post ball fields to the event location.)

Instead of sitting in the special seating area she chose to sit with the unit Families, so by the time we got finished greeting everyone the only place left for us to sit was the grass. (We have been in the unit 5 years and who doesn't know the commander's wife, so it took a few minutes.)

Here is my self portrait ... I really love those shoes!



Until our next cup of tea ...

Happy Martin Luther King, Jr. Day

I believe that even amid today's mortar bursts and whining bullets, there is still hope for a brighter tomorrow.
-- Martin Luther King, Jr.
Dec. 10, 1964, Nobel Peace Prize Acceptance Speech

Part Patience, Part Anxiety, Completely Army Life!

Well, here we are mere hours away the last of our Soldiers returning home and I can barely contain my excitement. I am exhausted from nearly two weeks of baking cookies, talking with parents, cleaning my house (even though my Soldier is home ...) and balancing work and school, but it is absolutely worth it.

This day ends 14-month long months of waiting.

I am in heaven as the smells of peanut butter and chocolate chips waft through the house. My husband sits contently in the livingroom catching up on XBox gaming and periodically pausing to send a batch of cookies through "quality control testing." I've already had to go get more cookie dough, but I'm not complaining.

A few weeks ago we attend the Reunion Training Class offered by the unit's chaplain. It was a time for George and I to look back at our experiences and share with other spouses, those who are facing it for the first time.

Many commented on how we seemed to be perfectly content amid all of the turmoil and stress surrounding the challenges of reintergration. We both admitted that it's not always easy, but the key is to communicate and give each other space.

I sit here now, thinking back over his return from the last deployment compared to this one and realize that even if the factors are the same (unit, deployment time, their mission) we still handled this reunion differently that last time.

Most military spouses will admit that over the course of a deployment you change. You mature, become more independent and gain confidence. Lst time he came home I was clingy, catered to his every whim and routinely sacrificed what I wanted to do for his choice. Boy have things changed now!

It's not that I don't do those things, but I've learned to give him his space, communicatied about what we wanted to do and compromised on jumping to assist his every need or want. Judging the two deployment reunions, I realized that as much as we can try to plan for what we expect, things will be different. And THAT is what makes Army life such an adventure, the unknown and uncertainty can help bring a Family together if they are willing to communicate and face challenges together.

Well, the oven is beeping at me and the cookies are disappearing, so I must return to the kitchen ...

Unit our next cup of tea ...

One Chapter Comes to an End ... As Another Begins

It’s slowly sinking in … as George’s deployed brigade continues to return from Iraq (nearly 4,000 Soldiers) it is finally sinking in that he is not going back. Well, not this time anyway.

2008 was a very difficult year for me. I started the year with my husband halfway across the world, faced with the realization that I would face a Valentine's Day, Easter, 4th of July, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year before seeing him again. For some reason 15-months is harder to face than a 12-months. Those first three months you realize that a year later you would still be a part. Our first deployment was only 12-months and every month I could look in the mirror and say "This time next year he will be home."

His dad faced hard times from early on, and each month I trekked to Houston to spend time with him. I encouraged him to tell George what was going on, but he didn't want to worry him. From doctor's apointment to doctor's appointment we went.

I was finally settling into my new job when we learned that many of the Soldiers I worked with on a daily basis would also face deployment.

In August, we faced the reality of his dad's illness and filed a Red Cross Message to bring George home on emergency leave, where he was able to spend his dad's last three months with him.

When he came home in September to care for his sick father, there was always the possibility that he would return. Even after his father died, it was a possibility once he got his father’s estate in order.

But today as I attended the second welcome home ceremony in a week to welcome home George’s mentor and a close friend to both of us and it finally began to sink in, things were looking up. As I made Ron’s sign, I was excited not only for his homecoming, but the reality that my husband is home for a while.

The past few weeks have been hectic as we work to bring them all home. George has worked ridiculous hours, convoying back and forth between the post and airport, nearly an hour away. It was exciting to see the first of his Soldiers come home. I talked with excited parents and nervous wives, backed more cookies that even Santa could eat, and waited anxiously for their arrival. Though, we were excited to see them come home, I think for me, today’s homecoming was the one that I was most excited (with the exception of my own husband of course.)


Ron is a dear friend, part mentor, part big brother, part father. He was deployed with George the first time and while I’m sure they fed each other’s desire for excitement and need to buck the system, I am grateful to him for bringing my husband home safely, for regardless of how much “trouble” he likes to get into, I know that he will always look out for George.


Despite the rank difference, Ron is at ease and completely comfortable as he joins us often at our house for dinner. He’s the single guy you invite over because you know even if you feed him stale cereal and warm milk, he’ll act as if it’s the best meal he’s ever had. Yeah, maybe that’s why I missed Ron so much. The “Boy, this is a great meal!” has started to wear off of George as he’s been home a few months now.


I love how after dinner they sit back with drinks in hand and share stories of their time in “the sand.” They weren’t together in this deployment, with Ron leaving the battalion shortly after they got to Iraq, but they were already swapping stories and telling of the tall tales they’d heard of the other. I can’t wait until Ron settles in and joins us for a few dinners. As the beer flows, so do the stories … I think that is the Army way. This deployment was a long one and I’m sure they’ll be telling stories late into the night. They’ve even out lasted the puppy and he’s a ball of energy when visitors come over. I guess I’d better stock the pantry and make sure the beers cold … it looks like we’re in for some tall tales. 2009 is a chance to start fresh!

Until our next cup of tea ...