A day of honor.

Happy Veterans Day to all my Veteran readers! Thank you for your service and thank you to your spouses/families who have supported you allowing you to serve this great Nation.

Balancing Act.

I have survived and enjoyed my first week. Seriously, I really am digging the new job. The paycheck is nice too. I love volunteer work, but it's nice to get paid too.

Here's the question of the week now. How do I successfully balance the volunteer stuff. I'm managing okay thus far, and am open to delegating some of my tasks. Still, I am a bit of a control freak and like to run the show, if in fact I have the chance. My friend and biggest supporter and my VP/co-chair/Design Guru/Spouse Extraordinaire (we really need a title for her) is wonderful. She has offered to take on a lot more work for one particular organization that I have/share what-have you. Still, I feel a bit guilty.

You see, she is a giver (bless her heart) and she likes to do a lot for a lot of people. She is worth her weight (and then some) in gold. Though, I don't want her to take on too much. Know what I mean? I'm having this dilema as she is a million miles away helping out another friend of hers and knee-deep in that admin stuff. Again, she is a giver.

What suggestions do you all have for:

a) Maintaining/increasing the success of an organization without delegating too much; and,
b) Recognizing someone who means so much to you that is often an unsung hero?

Give 'til it hurts.

AnySoldier.com is a great cause, especially if you are looking to donate.

Recently Maj Pain of One Marine's View wrote a blog post on donating and being thankful. Read it.

Geranium thoughts.

Flannery O'Connor fans, are you out there?

Even if you aren't or have no idea who Ms. O'Connor was, know this, she was a writer of that which most people can relate. Even if it's not on point, there's probably something in one of her stories that will ring true for you.

The Geranium is one such story for me. I can relate on a couple of different levels. I've had my roots up in the air, specifically when I first arrived in the black hole that was Jacksonville, NC. Mind you, after some time my views changed, but at first, I felt completely out of my element. My first unit was at Camp Johnson, if you can even call it that was a MAT platoon. What did we do? We waited, day in and day out to commence MOS classes. I wanted to be dropped to class so badly just to avoid the ridiculousness they had us doing. We field day-ed. Incessantly. Everyday. Oh, and then we scrubbed and brasso-ed the crap out everything some more. I won't even go into my assessment of the city outside the base gates. Just know that it was not beautiful. Good times. Good times.

So, you see, the changes that were happening in my life were less than desirable. I envisioned MOS school would be vastly different. Alas, it was merely an extension of boot camp games, with only slightly more freedom.

Going back to The Geranium, I can also relate to the issue of discrimination, although slightly varied from O'Connor's description. I did not experience this as much in the fleet (okay a little bit) as I did in recruit training. Just like O'Connr's character, Old Dudley, I found myself in a foreign setting (and you thought boot camp was a country club-hah). Upon settling-in at boot camp, as I became familiar with my fellow recruits, I quickly learned that I was a minority. Aside from delving into the issues that were ever-present, I will say that from this experience I gained a different perspective on discrimination and prejudice and learned that some folks will remain ignorant even if you slap them in the face with truth. Still, others will wake up.

As a military spouse, I never have personally experienced discrimination. Of course, maybe I have been the target of it, and haven't even noticed. LOL

So, back to the issues of roots. For you military spouses do you ever feel as though your roots are in the air? Or, do you firmly replant yourself in your new location?

Seven years ago.

Seven years ago, about this time in the evening, we were finishing up some dinner that was likely barbecued (his forte) and swapping work stories. In the morning, he was going to sign some reenlistment papers. I can recall us hemming and hawing wondering if that's what we really wanted. Ultimately, it was.

My job was mentally exhausting. About a month before, I commenced to working in a new firm. After my first day, I went home and literally cried my eyes out. I hated it. I detested the atmosphere. I loathed the laziness I had already witnessed in my new coworker who was senior to me. I would have preferred to endure scrubbing the tile walls at Grand Central Station with a chamber brush. That's how bad (I thought) I had it. At this point, someone should have slapped me up side the head stating: Self-pity is our worst enemy and if we yield to it, we can never do anything good in the world. ~ Helen Keller.

My employer was a discontented individual, I learned quickly that switching to this firm was a poor choice--career wise it was smart, but our personalities clashed. She was a curmudgeon, me an eager learner with a energy that would soon find itself sucked into a vacuum that was that office. Thankfully, at some point I did smarten up and find new employment elsewhere. Anyway, that's neither here nor there. My point is I had my own pitiful woes and was feeling sorry for myself for taking the overburdening job and I already had short-timers attitude wondering where the Coast Guard would take us next. I knew at some point with his reenlistment on the horizon we'd be on a new journey in the next couple of years. Or, so I thought.

I digress.

I'm pretty sure there was some hanky panky that evening. I'm also sure I was probably procrastinating on some class assignment. I'll just do it tomorrow, I probably thought. Time wasn't that big of a deal. There was always time and there was always another day like the day before to get the same things done. Not much changed from day to day in those days.

Tomorrow came. I went to work. He went to work. I sat at my desk. He sat in the YNs office in Boston and started to sign his name on the dotted line (again).

He called me.

Our world stopped. Everybody's world did. It was September 11, 2001.

It wasn't a joke he told me. Look on the web--check Yahoo news. They just locked the base down. I don't know where I'm going or what's going to happen.

Bewildered, I saw the images, and any naïve sense of immortality I had slipped from my body. Individually I felt powerless and very naked. It was all so real and present.

My boss wouldn't let us leave. Where would we have gone anyway? She showed little concern despite her daughter living in NY. The office, the clients, everyone was in awe except the curmudgeon.

My husband and I were separated by an hour. My family was another two hours away. While I worried that the military bases might fall prey to an attack next, I sat befuddled in my rolling chair--helpless. I had friends there. Where were they on this day?

My heart broke in innumerable pieces for the lives lost. My mind scrambled to make sense of it all. I felt alone.

Though...in the hours, days and weeks that would follow brought changes. I never felt so connected to people, to a Nation in my life.

Seven years ago, my life and perception on a lot of things changed. It would be vain of me to think that I was alone in this transformation. All I can say with any certainty is that any self-pity I once had was replaced with feelings of kinship and empathy for my neighbor as well as a distinct awareness that freedom was fragile.

May those of you reading this who lost loved ones in the attacks on 9/11/01 continue to find peace and comfort in your memories of them.

Dispelling a myth about deployments and my thoughts.

Having been a Marine, I'm very familiar with high op temp, plentiful field exercises and training at CAX, and so much more. I haven't been endured all of them, but am familiar enough. At any rate, it's not surprising to me when people view the Coast Guard as being vastly different. Of course, all of the services vary in their training exercises and deployment schedules.


Recently I read on a question and answer forum an individual's query about the best service was to join and which had the least amount of deployments. Two people responded, in varied words, The Coast Guard. You will get stationed close to a single port. You will rarely deploy.


To that, I say, Watchoo talkin' 'bout, Willis?

This is a fallacy. It can be true for some rates and units. For others, it couldn't be farther from the truth. The Coast Guard certainly trains, but members of the Coast Guard are also deploying units all the time. Recently, Commandant, Admiral Thad Allen stated in the Leadership Journal, "Coast Guard men and women, with our partners at the Department of Homeland Security, are deployed all across the country and stand ready to respond to all threats and hazards as we carry out our duties as America’s lifesavers and guardians of the seas."

I don't like to cite Wikipedia as a absolute perfect reference, but this says it quite well and cites a Time article I wanted to share anyway: While most military services are either at war or training for war, the Coast Guard is deployed every day..." (citing, The Coast Guard Gets It Right Amanda Ripley. TIME. October 23, 2005. )

If you don't have the time to read the Time article, here's the blurb I really wanted to share, said by then (10/23/05) Vice Admiral Thad Allen:
'The Coast Guard has always been, in a word, busy--whether during war or peace. "We are deployed every day," says Allen. "We fly every day. We respond to oil spills every day." Also, since the Coast Guard is the only military branch allowed to perform law-enforcement duties, it is accustomed to engaging with civilians. In one day, a Coast Guard boat crew off of California might arrest as many people as it saves.'

~~~~~~~~~

Being a Spouse: Some people have cast doubt on my ability to understand the trials of military deployments.

I am the wife of a Coast Guardsman. I am a military wife. I know the sadness and emptiness that goes hand in hand with your loved one being deployed. I have been there and will be there on and off until he retires. I know the look of confusing and bewilderment that leaps from a young child's eyes when you say, Yes, daddy has to go away again. I know the power of simple communications (email, letters, a simple I love you during the rare phone call) and how they can rebuild your spirit to go for long stretches. I know the yearning for a warm body beside me in my empty bed for weeks and months on end. I know.

Don't tell me the Coast Guard doesn't deploy. Don't tell my friends who's spouses are serving in PATFORSWA and other combat areas that they don't understand military deployments, because they do. We do. We are military spouses, no matter what branch.

I live my life. I breathe my air. I love a man who is sometimes far away. I do fine (most of the time). I may not have an FRG and we may not fall under the DOD, but the USCG is an armed service. We are a military family.

Bittersweet Feelings - a little girl and her hero

While folks are buzzing and bickering about Vice Presidential candidates and recent Olympic memories, my sights are set on smaller, yet, important-to-me things for the time being. Today, I ushered my daughter into a whole new world. We met her first teacher at Open House. My daughter shouted to me after asking her thoughts today, "Mommy, my teacher is going to be
F-U-N". That's right, off to Kindergarten she will trot next week. Of course, don't get me wrong, I don't normally dismiss political issues or athletic triumphs for grade school matters. Still, right now, this is what counts. The campaigns still have a few good months left in them, the first day of Kindergarten; however, is breathing down my neck.

I have all the usual emotions—excitement, happiness, sadness. It's all bittersweet. My first baby is going to school. She's growing up. The worst part, I'm not going to be there to see her off. I'll be at home, probably balling my eyes out.

Our daughter declared "Daddy is taking me to school on my first day. Mommy, you can pick me up later." Hmph. Trying not to pout, I plastered on a smile for my girl and hoped she can't see the tears in my eyes. I wanted to be the one to bring her and hold her hand and watch her walk into her classroom. I always planned on being the one.

When I see my husband don his uniform and throw his sea bag over his shoulder as he boards a ship, I know he's going to miss things. These types of things often are seemingly small but are big in our world. In a life where change is constant and deployments plenty, it's nice to have the little things and childhood moments to share. Fortunately, he's home right now, which is why HE became the chosen one and not me.

Despite my melancholy mood about the situation, I know how much it means to her that Daddy is home right now. He's missed so much in her little life so far. Being there to escort her to her first day is an achievement—an extremely proud moment for her. He's her hero. Who wouldn't want to show off their very own superman to a new set of friends? Smart girl, I have, very smart girl who loves her Daddy so.

In 2025, my boy will be old enough.

He will be old enough to enlist. He will be eligible to apply for entrance at any one of the military academies. Of course, my girls, being older, will have reached that eligible age already. However, for the sake of all that is sugar and spice and everything nice (and to not cause ulcers in my husband's belly), we'll just discuss the boy.

I was a Marine. My husband is a Coastie. Stop laughing. Yeah, yeah, he can swim, and I sink. I've heard it all. Carry on.

At any rate, we are obviously a military family. I had always envisioned that if I bore a son, he'd grow up to show interest in the military. Notice I say show interest? I'm not going to force him. My husband is quite possibly going to dissuade him. Still, I can't help but wonder what the years will bring. I am on the fence about the matter, which is quite comical because (1) he's still in diapers and (2) since it will really be all up to him one day.

I see many parents in this day and age cringing at the thought of their child trotting to the local recruiter's office. I try to put myself in their shoes. It's frightening. It's got to be. I'm sure for many, it's honorable and they are extremely proud of their youngin's joining the Armed Services, but not everyone feels that way.

I've recently been reading about a mom named Carla. You see, she writes a blog "Some Soldier's Mom" (and apparently many other things) all about her life as a military mom and spouse. In 2004, she wrote:

We always thought he would grow out of it. The wanting to be a soldier. It was going to be just a fad he went through. Like most boys...Although his two older brothers were in the Navy (one after high school and one during college), we actively discouraged this son from enlisting. It wasn't that his Dad and I objected to the military, but we wanted him to consider all his options. At his insistence, enlisting remained a part of every conversation we had with our son about his future.By his senior year, we were certain that he could be distracted from enlistment as his and his friends' attention turned to colleges and graduation. By November, we had become so tired of his insistence that we sign the consent for the Army's delayed entry program (DEP), that we forbade any mention of it until after the first of the New Year.

He honored our wishes. Until New Year's Day. Then the floodgates opened. And every day after that, multiple times each day, he implored us, begged us, pleaded with us, argued with us to meet with the Army recruiters. We refused. After all, he was still about 90 days from his 18th birthday. No amount of cajoling or urging on our part could convince him to apply to colleges. With the talk of war escalated, he never wavered. His friends talked to him, but even they will tell you that he wanted to serve, that his highly developed love of his country and his patriotism drove him.Three weeks before his 18th birthday, accepting that it was unlikely that he would change his mind, we agreed to meet with the Army recruiter. But we made no promises other than to hear them out...He wanted infantry. He wanted Airborne. Straight. Square. Bold. Certain. He looked us firmly in the eyes and said, "Yes, Dad. Yes, Mom. This is really what I want."

(To read Carla's full post, visit: http://somesoldiersmom.blogspot.com/2004_12_01_archive.html for her most updated post, please visit: http://somesoldiersmom.blogspot.com/)

So, I guess my worrying is for naught. My son will grow up. He will ultimately make his own decisions. I should know this. I should accept this. After all, I too had the passion (perhaps rebellious streak) that Carla's son had. I too had my heart set on the military much against my parents' (mostly my mother's) wishes. When I was 17, I joined the DEP and less than a year later, I was on a flight to Parris Island to begin my military journey. *sigh* I suppose if my son is anything like me, I better get used to this idea now.

Once Upon a Time, I was Snow White.

I just visited a lovely military spouse blog, and chuckled at her quote. It goes as follows:

I used to be snow white, but I drifted. ~ Mae West

I've heard this quote, and I have always enjoyed it. One reason is because one of my high school nicknames was "Snow White" for a number of reasons. I have dark, dark hair, fair skin and often wore my hair in a bob. I would love to tell you it was also because I was heir to a throne somewhere, but I never lie. So, I'll fib and just reference that I was verging on perfection. *giggle*

At any rate, my nickname also meant a lot more (if you know me, please don't act so shocked, there was once a time...). I was pure, you have no idea, how innocent and naïve I was. Seriously. It's amazing I made it through boot camp let alone to the fleet.

Rest assured, I've drifted. Of course, how could I not have? You just grow up. The military does that to you as well. I won't say I blame all of my drifting from complete purity on the military, but it can be said that the real Snow White probably never shot a SAW. Wouldn't that be a fascinating fairy tale?

Snow White looked at the wretched witch and declared I don't need your flippin' apple. Take a bite of this Evil Queen. And, from beneath her billowy skirts, the princess whipped out a SAW and blew the witch's head clear off her shoulders. Snow White returned to the kingdom and took the throne wherein she presided as the Queen for the next 50 years. Oh, and as for the prince, she didn't need him. She sent him packing despite his wooing and courting efforts. Silly fool couldn't do anything but kiss her. Hmph.

Alright, so that's not at all so pleasant. I suppose I won't be sharing that with my girls any time soon. Pardon my warped storytelling tendencies. I told you I drifted.

So, what's a quote about you? Is there one that perfectly describes you or the former you?

Housing Law Provides Protection for Military Families

According to National Military Family Association (NMFA), August 12, 2008:

In late July, President Bush signed “The Housing and Economic Recovery Act of 2008”, H.R. 3221, into law (Public Law 110-289). This legislation is designed to help homeowners keep their existing homes and provide first-time buyers access to affordable housing.

Military families should know that there are several provisions within H.R. 3221 that uniquely impact service members and veterans.

The law will:

Exclude military housing allowances from counting as income when service members try to qualify for low-income housing;

Expand the foreclosure protection for service members returning from deployment. Previously, service members had 90 days of protection from foreclosure, now they have nine months. This temporary protection expires on December 31, 2010;

Provide a temporary increase until the end of the year for the maximum loan guaranteed by the Department of Veteran Affairs (VA). The cap can be as high as $720,750 and as low as $417,000 depending on the median housing prices for the area;

Require the Secretary of Defense to develop a program to provide financial counseling to returning service members, including credit and home mortgage counseling;

Provide a moving benefit to service members who are forced to move out of rental housing if the owner of the housing is foreclosed on;

Increase grants for severally disabled veterans from $50,000 to $60,000;

Make totally disabled service members held on active duty for medical reasons eligible for VA grants for home alternations before their discharge;

Extend grants for specially adapted housing and assistance to veterans with severe burns and veterans residing outside the United States; and

Allow veteran benefits received as a lump sum to be treated as monthly benefits for the purposes of eligibility for Section 8 Housing assistance.

We are especially pleased members of Congress recognize the problems military renters face when their landlords go into foreclosure. NMFA will monitor the implementation of this legislation and provide updates as they become available.

To review the full law, go to: http://thomas.loc.gov/ and type HR 3221 into the search field.

Hooray! Thoughts?

A program to help military families and spouses (OEF/OIF)

There are some folks down at the VA in Amarillo, TX, looking for some feedback. In fact, they are seeking the assistance of military spouses and families in order to help the same. Two individuals that I have been in contact with regarding a new program are Richard Johnson and Suzanne Morton of the LEAD program through the VA (Thomas E. Creek, VAMC).

Currently, they are looking for ways to assist with families and spouses in via an outreach program entitled LEAD. Recently, Mr. Johnson posted about goals to address the concerns, issues and needs of families on the homefront. They are currently on an information gathering session and are asking spouses to contact them individually (keeping OPSEC and PERSEC in mind of course).

They are open to your thoughts and suggestions on how to provide support to spouses and families of members in Operation Enduring Freedom and Operation Iraqi Freedom (OEF/OIF) and said veterans. Use them as your sounding board, they may have more resources to share with you than you knew existed and if they don’t, perhaps they can make some waves in getting the resources you seek.

Keep in mind that anonymity will be maintained as when reporting their findings, no names or other identifying information will be used concerning spouses/families who contact them. VA members are well versed in the security matters and while they respect your privacy, you too should be vigilant not too give away any unit/deployment/rotation information. At this time, that information is not needed for this program. I would venture to say that if you contact them, you can even choose just to give your first name.

Some of the questions they are seeking answers to are:

1) What has been the hardest struggle you have had to overcome?
2) How has behavior changes affected your family and social environment?
3) What benefits would you like to see offered for the spouse/family of veterans?
4) Would you benefit from meetings with other spouses and or family members?
5) What avenues have you tried and what were the outcomes?
6) Do you know of any OEF/OIF family members that are having problems? What are they?
7) What do you think would be the best way to get the information out to spouses or family members; through email, letter, booklet or CD?

Another matter Mr. Johnson wanted to raise awareness about is that “Veterans have up to 5 years after separation to seek services.”

If you would like to contact them, you may do so via email or phone at:

Richard Johnson
Richard.JohnsonJr@va.gov

Suzanne Morton
W.Morton@va.gov

Phone: (806) 355-9703 ext. 4917

Sleeping - Then and Now

Once, long ago, during a field exercise I participated in, combat instructors played the "enemy" and sought to "attack" my platoon. It was exciting, it was my first real experience practicing things I had learned as far as strategies and tactics in the field. We were all relatively young, so the shifts which we were to take to sleep seemed doable. I had the first watch that night.

Laying in the dusk in shallow foxhole, my chin propped, hands on my weapon at the ready, and my eyes scanning the horizon. Of course, it was muddied with trees and foliage so the horizon wasn't much. My ears alert for any sound. Members of my platoon lay sleeping in their foxholes on either side of me. I had it covered. I stood watch for roughly 4 hours. I never knew how boring that could be. I just wanted to move. I didn't know if I was cut out for this. Nonetheless, my watch was up, so I awoke the folks on my sides and alerted them it was their turn. One woke with a burst of energy asking for a recount of what took place the hours before. The other, well she just sort of lay there lifeless. She had no ambition. Still, she took her post, awake and assured me she "had this". I double and triple-checked. Yes, yes, go to sleep. Okay, then.

At this point, the air was much cooler, the night heavy. Everything around us black save for a tower's blinking light in the distance. About an hour later, after I fell into a deep sleep, I awoke. You know how when you can feel someone staring at you?

Screaming in sheer terror (hardly stealth was I), I was scared out of my mind. Sitting part on my hip and part out of my foxhole was a man. Not any man, but a face of a skeleton, painted white with black and red markings. He was small but wore this evil grin as if to say There's no escaping now. I screamed and screamed (yes, a high-pitched girly one).

He just sat there.

It took me what felt like an eternity to realize where I was and who this guy was. He was a combat instructor. At one point, I finally said, Oh, sh$t. I'm "dead" now right? He laughed and drew an X on my neck with a black marker to indicate he "killed" me. I felt like a fool. I had slept through this man sneaking up on me and so had my backup. She was snoring away, gee thanks I thought.

Fast forward to modern day. I can't sleep through anything. A child snores, I hear it. Someone gets up to use the bathroom, I hear that too. One of my children talks in their sleep, you guessed it, I hear it. Sometimes I even strain to hear what is being said. It's quite funny actually.

The moral here? Well, apparently once you become a parent a restful night ceases to exist. That's the case for me anyway. I'm always vigilant of what's going on in my house. I hear the dog many rooms away, running in her sleep. I hear my husband's breathing beside me, and even in another room, someone tossing and turning in their crib. I've been known to rush into a child's room as they are about to roll off a bed just to save them from crashing to the floor. My husband always ask how I knew it was going to happen. I just had a sense, I guess.

Apparently, I should waited to join the service until I was a mother, then I would have heard every crack and snap of the branches in the field that night. I would have told that combat instructor to back away from me with one eye open and one eye closed and not even had to move an inch. Maybe, I would have been able to employ my heightened mommy awareness. Maybe, I would have been able to use the eyes in the back of my head. Then again, I don't know if I could torn myself away from my children for an exercise like that. Something about lullabies and lavender at a nighttime bath are much more appealing to me now then dirt, camo paint and the faint smell of sulfur in the night air.