10 years later

I have never seen the video of the planes hitting the World Trade towers. I have never seen them fall. But I can picture exactly where I was 10 years and 1 day ago as if it happened yesterday. We had picked up Tim at the military airport in Norfolk a few days before and were preparing for a family vacation to Maine before he started his new position on a amphibious assault ship, the USS Wasp. He came in the door and said, "Turn on the radio!" and we sat transfixed in the kitchen listening to the announcer (Tom Brokaw, I think) state breathlessly how the first tower had fallen, the plane hitting the second tower, and then its collapse as well. I remember wondering aloud if someone (who, I don't know) needed him to help identify bodies, but he assured me that there were plenty of people in the NY area that were capable.

With the command not needing him yet (they insisted he take his leave), we drove up the East Coast, seeing American flags and encouraging signs along every road. What impressed me the most were the individuals in Maine. It seemed as if every yard along Route 1 sported dozens of tiny flags spaced evenly along the road. The concept that "our nation will prevail" was palpable to everyone. I recall not being frightened, but full of righteous anger. 

Today, we seemed to be a weaker people, one that meekly accepts being treated like terrorists ourselves at airports rather than offend Muslims. We have downplayed the threat to our country at any moment. I pray for those those who lost loved ones on September 11, 2001, pray that the souls of their dearly departed are in the hands of God, and that we will never forget or let their sacrifice be in vain.   

all together again

Last week Tim wore his uniform for the last time so yesterday we picked him up from the airport. The years of being separated for months at a time are over. Technically he is on leave and we must all drive down to Virginia in 2 weeks to supervise the packing and moving of all our household goods one last time. I'm not looking forward to the 14 hour drive, having to camp out in a hotel with 6 kids, feeding movers for 3 days, driving back to Maine, and having to organize our boxes and furniture into 3 destinations: farm house, house in southern Maine, and farm apartment, organize yet another move for our stuff going to the new house, and begin stocking our home with all the pets (2 mice for Mary and 2 kitty cats for the little boys) the children have been promised for several years now.

However,  once this logistical nightmare is completed then I can sit back and take a long sip of lemonade on the porch and enjoy the rest of my summer. Until then my life is going to be a little frantic so I need to keep my mind focused on the end result: our family all in Maine, the beautiful and now much cooler Vacationland.

soon to be a Navy retiree wife

It is now official that Tim will be retiring from the Navy in just a few weeks and starting a new job here in Maine. The family went house-hunting for a new winter home, the farm will continue to be our “summer place,” though it will certainly be easier to take long weekends and holidays here, but as the job is a couple of hours away, we need to consult a realtor. After the kids and I went back to re-look at several houses, we put an offer on one, but were unsuccessful (the owners don’t seem to grasp the reality of the current economic conditions, to be polite about it).

So back we go with another set of listings and the bribe of Friendly’s for dinner to keep all the children on their best behavior. I insisted on Wednesday because with $1.99 kid’s meals that day, I can walk in with 6 hungry kiddos and walk out without too much of a dent in my wallet. None of the houses compare to the one we are sitting in, built with our family’s needs and wants as the top priority, but it shouldn’t be too hard to find a nice home with 3 bedrooms, 2 baths on at least an acre. We aren’t asking for that size lot in Manhattan, Maine has plenty of room plus millions of acres with not a soul in residence. After all we have been through the past few years career-wise, it has been such a pleasant surprise to have the job and the retirement with all the thousands of logistical pieces fit together like a beautifully made jig-saw puzzle. Here is to finding a “winter home” that fits our needs and has plenty of room for the kids to play in the predictable Maine snow this winter.        

how many corpsmen does it take to weigh one child?

Usually it only takes one, but if you are having all three daughters seen at once, it takes 4 to take all their vitals. One each to record the numbers and one female to protect against sexual harassment accusations. The result was 8 people all crammed into one little room, but I certainly didn't mind. When I called the appointment line a few weeks ago it was deemed impossible to have more than one child be seen on the same day so I was forced to schedule us to drive downtown to the local military hospital 6 Fridays in a row so the children could visit the doctor. Everyone had one little issue that needed to be dealt with, Mary and her newly found antibiotic allergy, Charlie's need for a EpiPen, Maggie's complaint about her eyesight... but after the first appointment in which we didn't even have the chance to sit down in the waiting room, the staff was gracious and made accommodations so we could squeeze in all the children in 2 visits.

So now we have it noted in Mary's chart not to give her amoxocillin, Maggie's vision is deemed 20/20, we no longer need to fear death the next time Charlie stumbles across a yellow jacket nest, and Will has his physical completed for camp. And little babydoodle, Julia Ellen, has been pronounced to be the sweetest, most developmentally on-task toddler known to man. This has been the most pleasant experience at a military hospital I have encountered in my 14 years of delivering babies (unlike this episode at Bethesda), dragging children to the pediatrician, and my own infrequent medical issues. I have to give kudos to the staff at the Family Practice clinic at NMCP for all their helpfulness and accommodation to my large brood.    

deployment/TAD syndrome

With Tim away this week I have been fortunate enough to have the dishwasher leak all over the kitchen floor twice, giving me much more laundry to do with all the sopping wet towels as well as the added burden of having to wash every dish by hand. I shouldn't complain, after all many people have no dishwasher at all, and some have less food these days to put on those plates or no little children to feed. But despite the priest getting his shoes wet while blessing our home yesterday I've been a little uneasy. Noises at night have kept me up and a mysterious clattering from the garage left me checking on all the children and prowling about the doors and windows ready to shoot an intruder. We live in a relatively safe neighborhood, but it will be good to have the man about the place again.  

Bunko!

Since returning to Virginia I have wasted no time in finding activities and lessons for the children and last evening finally resumed my own social life. Our time in DC was not very fun for me, despite the fact that there were almost 100 Catholic homeschooling moms in our county. Everyone lived so far away and were so busy that almost every attempt at an outing were perpetually put off. I was even rebuffed by the officer's spouse club and just waited out our tour to return to the more hospitable South.

Thursday night was such a pleasant evening with old friends, a little adult beverage, yummy snacks, and a big $$ win (3 bunkos and 7 baby bunkos assured my success). I might not be able to attend lunch bunch with 6 noisy children in tow (not to mention the cost), but scintillating conversation with people over the age of 12 is certainly appreciated.

surrounded by boxes

I have found over the many military moves we have made (6 in the past 12 years) that it makes for a smoother move if I prepack stuff such as books, fabric, and off season clothes. My basement has been a repository for empty boxes and as of Thursday all of them were filled, labeled, and sealed.

Yesterday during ballet class Mary and I tried to get some more from the liquor store (the absolute best source of heavy-duty boxes and the perfect size for packing books) but they said that they couldn't give me any until Monday. We did score about a dozen banana boxes from Safeway, but they have an unfortunate hole in both the top and bottom. Finally this morning, I asked the deli stocker at Giant if I could scrounge some flattened cardboard so I can patch up the holes. In one week I have packed all my fabric and about 1/2 of the children's books.

Over the next few weeks I'll try to collect dozens more free boxes and hopefully can cut down the packer's time. Standard military protocol is to feed whoever comes to pack out and I figure by working slowly one box at a time, I can save myself at least the cost of one lunch for 6 burly men.

saving the best for last

Yesterday was another beautiful day so the kids did a tiny bit of school, practiced the piano and I packed a picnic lunch before heading down the road to Annapolis. We squeezed our large van through the narrow streets, parked, bought tour tickets, and were escorted out the door in a very efficient manner (actually, before we even had time to go potty, but miraculously there were no accidents).

The children were very impressed by noon formation and asked lots of questions as the midshipmen paraded into lunch. As our tour progressed Will walked closer and closer to the guide to listen and ask his own questions about engineering courses and daily life at the Academy.

The little ones were a little on the hyper side, but they were quiet as mice inside the chapel and crypt. It was facinating to learn that it took many years to find John Paul Jones' grave in Paris and that he had been preserved so well that they could identify him visually.

We were disappointed that the usual Wednesday 4pm dress parade was a non-event, but we enjoyed the museum and visitor's center on campus, as well as wandering through the front of Bancroft Hall. Anyone interested in American naval history, the space program (52 astronauts are alumni), and French-style architecture would be impressed.

I relented in my usual mean-Mommy attitude toward gift shops and allowed them all to pick out 1 item and I bought Will and Mary each a shirt and a book. The Naval Academy Candidate Book explains how to prepare, get in, and survive. Will snuck it out of the bag last night after prayers and stayed up until 10pm reading it before I called, "Lights out!"

grocery shopping

Usually I like going to the commissary, the prices are good and they have good sales on after-Easter candy, but yesterday's visit was the pits. There were only a few bags of sugar, no high efficiency laundry detergent, and no sausage on the shelves. The contrast between the government run grocery and your average chain store is striking- the commissary features boxes down the middle of every aisle so you can't pick up items from the opposite shelves or get around anyone else's cart, I have had to throw away jugs of milk that weren't even close to the expiration date because they were sour, surly cashiers who don't swipe all the coupons, and foods in the most bizarre locations with frequent placement changes. For example, baking items such as spices, cocoa, flour, and chocolate chips are all on different aisles. The self check-out machines take twice as long because they require you to track down an employee to show your ID, weigh produce, and then tote up the total.

Think of shopping at "government foods" with the same efficiency and customer service as the Post Office, the DMV, and any public school system. I ask you to project into the future and see that Obamacare will turn the health care system into: long waits, limited services, and a bloated bureaucracy filled with people who have no incentive to be pleasant.

good news

After 5 hours, Tim, Julia Ellen, and super-duper helper Will returned home from the ER. Julia Ellen definitely has a small round object in her tummy, where is is supposedly safe. The danger of these batteries is if they get lodged in the esophagus. I'm supposed to watch for it over the next few days and then breathe a huge sigh of relief.

On other fronts we are doing better, I sent a letter to the co-op head, thanking her for including us but stating that we would not be returning. We won't have orders in hand when I go house hunting on Monday, but we have been assured that they are 1 signature away from completed. A plan for fitting in several TAD assignments, packing out, getting us up to Maine, attending all the children's recitals and such is coming together, and we are still working on school every day. I'm waiting for the weather to cooperate so we can go on those last few field trips without having to pack coats and deal with cold children from wind whipping off the water on top of organizing diapers, spare clothes, stroller, and food.

My life right now seems like I'm on the whip ride at the fair, but soon the guy at the switch will realize I'm starting to feel a little nauseous and push the big red button to stop the ride. Soon we will be up in Maine with an entire summer stretching in front of us filled with trips to the beach, fun projects to work on, and nature to explore. I just have to make it through the next few months without losing my lunch in order to get there.

flexibility is the key

Being a military family is a lot like a last-minute bargain traveler. We have the opportunity to travel and see many places in our country and around the world, but we sometimes must make a speedy decision, and the destination options might not be as broad as if we have gone to the travel agency months in advance. After getting all excited about returning to my hometown and researching the real estate market extensively, there are some issues that might prevent us from going to Portsmouth. We have a few other options, including staying here in DC or moving up to Great Lakes in Illinois.

The next few weeks will prove my competence as a military spouse, the ability to go with the flow and not get my heart set on any specific plan. There are benefits to going to Portsmouth, especially to spend more time with my grandmother, who is currently trying out an assisted living facility. But I certainly can't act like a spoiled child and insist that we go there, it might not be possible. Even staying here would be a pain as we have to move to another house with our lease expiring. Illinois would be an adventure since I've never been in that part of the country and relish the idea of trying out something new for a short spell.

My plan for this week is to research the area I know little about, perhaps look at some rental prices, call Seton for the names of some homeschoolers in the area, and roll the idea around a bit like a new food in my mouth and see if it is palatable.

packing up and moving out

With the economy in turmoil and the job outlook for next year not looking good, Tim and I have decided to stay in the Navy for an extra year and move down to Portsmouth. We have spent many sleepless nights debating the merits of staying in vs getting out, weighing the opportunities of living on the farm in Maine vs having a steady paycheck. It would be heartbreaking to move our family up there and then have to sell the farm because we couldn't afford to stay.

So, over the next several months I will organize all our belongings from the basement to the bedrooms, take Julia Ellen househunting, and finish up the school year and all our activities here in Washington, DC. We can find a new piano teacher, ballet studio, YMCA for swimming lessons, but one thing that will be much easier will be finding a church home.

Our favorite parish in the world, St. Benedict's, will soon be opening their new sanctuary and we will find many of our old friends sitting in the pews. There, Will won't be the only altar boy under the age of 20, though he won't be able to serve every Sunday. There, we will be able to send the children to CCD, using the Baltimore Catechism. There, we will be able to get involved in parish suppers, cleaning the church, helping with the homeschool group, and attending retreats. I will also be able to visit with my elderly grandmother and bring flowers to Mother's grave regularly. I will know where everything is, from the best thrift store to the grocery that makes the best raspberry pies I have ever eaten (best heated with a scoop of Breyer's vanilla on top).

Our delay of moving up to the farm makes me a little sad, for I want to move up there with my whole being, but a short delay is not a tragedy, after all, the children will still spend much of their summer in Maine with trips to the lake, to the top of mountains, and to the lobster pound.

finished my first quilt on the frame

Last year (about this time) I was enormously pregnant with a little time on my hands (not really, just massively impatient for Julia Ellen to arrive). Off I skipped to G Street Fabrics and bought myself a new sewing machine and quilting frame. Then I discovered that I couldn't bend over or stand up long enough to use it due to my condition. Then the baby arrived and then I really had not a minute to spare.

But now I have a few hours here and there to quilt and so I pulled out a patriotic top I made a few years back. The table is set up like a long-arm machine, but using a regular machine on a rolling platform. It has proven to be more complicated than I anticipated, the motions are totally different than regular machine quilting. I'm quilting with my hands rather than my fingers so I have to retrain my brain. But now I finished and can finally send a measure of my gratitude to a wounded soldier at Walter Reed. I've already started a new red, white, and blue quilt, maybe I can finish this one before we move to Maine.

I made it!

Tim was away this week, not to anywhere scary like Kobul or Bagdad, but to Saratoga Springs, Newport, and Groton. I wasn't afraid for his safety, but for my own. On Monday we had 3 activities, on Tuesday 2, 1 each on Wednesday and Friday. I had to make sure we got everyone bundled up, packed with the right gear, and in the car with enough time to get to Mass, co-op, and lessons on time. All this plus get school done, feed everyone, keep the house tidy, and decorate the house for Christmas.

Tim is a very involved dad, but much of it is below the radar, so it is only apparent how much he does when he isn't here. He picks up kids/takes them to lessons, bathes or cleans up for dinner each night, takes care of the checkbook, fetches milk on his way home, teaches Will math, gives hugs and kisses, reads to the little boys, changes nappies, puts up the babygate, holds Julia Ellen, and a myriad of other things that make our daily life run smoother.

This week also makes me appreciate other moms like Michelle and Mary Ann more, those who's husbands are gone for 6 months or more in service of our country. They have to pull the weight of 2 parents for so long as well as keep their spirits up for their children's sake. May God be with those who are serving in harm's way and shower comfort and blessings on their families back home.

my time is valuable too

Yesterday Julia Ellen had her 2 month well-baby check, the prerequisite to getting several vaccinations. The only appointment I could procure was at 9:20am so I packed up the kids after a quick breakfast, battled the Beltway traffic, and found the last slightly legal parking space on base. There were not many people in the waiting room in the pediatric clinic so the kids spread out to read and look at picture books. The corpsman called our name and I whisked Julia Ellen back for a few minutes alone to get her measurements. (13 pounds, off the chart!) A short while later they called us again so I gathered up the small children, leaving Will and Mary in the lobby, and followed a nurse back to a small examining room. I entertained the kids by balancing Timmy on one knee to read storybooks while simultaneously nursing Julia Ellen until the intern came into the room.

"OH! Do you want me to come back?" "No, she is all finished," I reassured him. Interns usually begin their year in July, but this guy seemed very inexperienced as he asked question after question, "Does anyone smoke in the house? What does she ride in in the car? Which way do you have the car seat facing? How do you manage 6 children? Does anyone in the house shoot? Does anyone in the house smoke? How do you deal with stress?How old is your house? Do you smoke? Is your husband going to deploy? How to you discipline 6 children?...." It felt more like a police interrogation than a medical checkup, with a cop trying to confuse a suspect into admitting he did it.

It seemed that he wanted to get a confession out of me, "Yes, I'm so overwhelmed every day. I don't know why I had 6 kids, no one should do this! I beat them to get them to behave like the angels they are being right now. Call social services and take them away so I can get a full night sleep!" I was polite, but getting a little irritated and he finally finished and said that the staff physician would be right in.

10 minutes ticked by... 20 minutes ticked by.... 30 minutes came and went. After almost 11 years of waiting and waiting for military pediatricians to show up, I finally snapped. I began to rant aloud, "How long is a well-child check supposed to take? 2 more minutes and I am out of here!" The 2 minutes passed very quickly as I got Julia Ellen back into her clothes, "Let's go!" I told Will and Mary who had been patiently reading while strapping the baby into her car seat.

I did call the clinic later and ask if I could go back and get her shots at the immunization clinic without the physician's signature on the chart. They took my name and number and finally at 4pm the doctor called to simultaneously apologize and blame me for what happened. "I understand that this is a teaching hospital, but with this many children I have been the guinea pig more times than the average. I certainly don't think it is fair to expect me to keep 4 small children quiet in a tiny space for over an hour and leave a 9 and 10 year old alone for that long."

This summer I plan on getting the baby's 4 month shots at the local family practice clinic in Maine, just paying out-of-pocket. I have a feeling that I won't be kept waiting for over an hour for him to pronounce her fat and fabulously healthy.

treasure trove

This morning we were supposed to go to the National Zoo with the American Heritage Girls, but like baseball earlier this week, it was cancelled due to rain. I think it has rained 10 out of the past 14 days, reminding me of this past summer in Maine when I almost went mad being shut up day after day in a very tiny apartment with 5 children.

Of course the kids were so looking forward to a field trip that when morning dawned and it wasn't actually raining yet... I said we could ride the Metro and go to the National Aquarium. I printed out my school group discount sheet off the internet and we hit the road. I had to wrangle for a minute or two with the ticket guy, "Are you discriminating against homeschoolers?" but it did shave $1 each off the kid's regular admission. The aquarium is pretty small, but we did like the piranhas, the alligators, the electric eels and this medium-sized snapping turtle.

After a quick snack/light lunch of Triscuits and blueberry muffin we headed over to the Mall on our way to the Botanic Gardens, but were waylaid by two huge tents full of exhibits by every government entity that exists. The kids filled up tote bags with balls, pencils, stickers, magnets, calenders, flashlights, tape measures, puzzles, and CDRoms. In the military tent they saw a dozen landmines (they were inert), a table full of guns to hold (no bullets), and talked to many soldiers and reservists. The paratroopers helped Will test out a parachute and explained how to jump out of an airplane.

We never made it to the Botanic Garden, instead visiting the very nice restrooms and lobby of the Smithsonian Castle before heading home to dump out the loot all over the living room floor.

military wife duty

When I was 7 months pregnant with Maggie and Tim deployed that summer, I had to continue mowing the lawn. When he was still deployed the following spring I had to resume mowing the lawn. Today, when it snowed 6" and Tim is an hour's bus ride away, I propped up a ladder against the side of the van and scraped the ice and snow off most of the windshield. I would rather be uncomfortable this morning and then be able to change into dry pants and socks than be scraping and having to pause for contractions or in the worst case, be trapped at home in hard labor and have to put my study of, "What to do if you have to give birth with no one around," into effect.

My guess is with all this preparation, one false alarm trip already to L&D on Saturday, and contingency plans posted on the fridge, I'll go to 41 weeks and have to be induced. But at least the windshield will be ice free.

where do you want to live?

While I am proud that we are a military family, one of the big downsides is the fact that we don't get to pick where we live. Navy hospitals are always in big cities surrounded by endless suburbs, be it Portsmouth, VA, Washington, DC, or Naples, Italy. So the whole family is looking forward to the big retirement day when we can unpack our things for the very last time and sit on our front porch and see just trees, fields, and sky. To get an idea of the scale, that little dark blob in the middle of the field is a large JD tractor, we can only see 1 house from anywhere on our farm.

Apparently many of my fellow Americans feel the same way:

...Pew Research Center survey out today on where Americans would most like to live. Whether they favor cities, suburbs or the countryside, almost half wish they lived somewhere else, the report found. City dwellers are more likely to dream of living somewhere else, and men in rural areas are far happier living there than women.

• 46% would prefer to live in a different type of community from the one they now reside. Adults 50 to 64 who live in cities are the least likely to say they live in the ideal place; two-thirds of those in that age group who live in the country say they couldn't imagine living anywhere else.

When Joe Higginbotham goes to town, he never runs into traffic jams. He never has to circle to find a parking spot. And he never has to worry about safety. "I can park my car in the street, get out, leave the keys in the ignition," says Higginbotham, 57, a retired instrument engineer for a large paper company. He runs errands at the bank, store and post office and makes a stop at the local saloon and "nobody bothers anything. … I love it here." What Higginbotham calls "his little piece of heaven" is Palisade, Colo., 15 miles east of Grand Junction. Population: 2,793. Traffic light: one. USAToday

When I head up to the nearest grocery store from our farm I might see 3 cars during the 10 mile trip. When I went to the Commissary yesterday afternoon it took me 3 cycles of the stoplight to simply cross Georgia Ave.

It was pretty much a given...

that the heroic pilot of Flight 1549, Chesley B. “Sully” Sullenberger is a military veteran. Following proper Captain protocol, he walked the plane twice to make sure no passengers were left behind before getting off himself.

I bet even the liberals on board were grateful for the tax dollars required for training Navy and Air Force pilots. May God bless all our military and retired military members this day.

Guns were the topic of conversation...

in the van on the way to my ultrasound a few weeks back. I told Tim that, even though I have only shot a rifle once, I want to buy something powerful like a Glock to protect our family. Tim said that Obama couldn't possibly inact a gun ban within a month or so of inaguration and I need to take a gun safety class. "But I need a gun to take to the class," I whined. "They have guns you can borrow to try them out and see what works best for you. But you need to wait until after Baby Sunshine is born because of the noise," was his calm reply.

So Tim has signed up for the class since even though he has a marksman ribbon on his uniform, he hasn't fired a gun in 15 years either.

Gun sellers say the election of Barack Obama is helping them avoid the recession. Sales of new guns are booming - up an estimated 50 percent in the suburbs.

... the gun lobby spent big trying to defeat Obama this year, outraged by his promise to reinstate a ban on military-style assault weapons. On talk radio, he was denounced as a "gun grabber." Now, as Obama heads to the White House, millions are rushing to reload.

After all this hype, Obama is telling people they don't need to worry, but once again his record and his words don't lead me to trust him.

As gun sales shoot up around the country, President-elect Barack Obama said Sunday that gun-owning Americans do not need to rush out and stock up before he is sworn in next month.
"I believe in common-sense gun safety laws, and I believe in the second amendment," Obama said at a news conference. "Lawful gun owners have nothing to fear. I said that throughout the campaign. I haven't indicated anything different during the transition. I think people can take me at my word."

But National Rifle Association spokesman Andrew Arulanandam said it's not Obama's words — but his legislative track record — that has gun-buyers flocking to the stores.

"Prior to his campaign for president, his record as a state legislator and as a U.S. Senator shows he voted for the most stringent forms of gun control, the most Draconian legislation, gun bans, ammunition bans and even an increase in federal excise taxes up to 500 percent for every gun and firearm sold," Arulanandam said.