Bunkers

After a long week of hot weather and camps my kids decided to sleep in the hallway upstairs, side by side, surrounded by stuffed animals and blankets. I stumbled upon them while heading to bed, not bothering to move them back to their rooms...let sleeping children sleep (as long as they aren't in my bed) is my motto! However, when I asked my 7 year old why they decided to do this his reply was "Oh, we wanted to be like the soldiers in WWII...you know sleeping in bunkers." and then he walked away. Huh? Then came his questions.

At 7:10AM I am stumbling around my bathroom trying to brush my teeth, pluck stray hairs and generally trying to be awake when I get: "Mommy, where do babies come from?" Huh? I was a blithering idiot at first, "Well, where YOU think they come from?" and so on. I pretty much told him most of facts, but he got very pale and said he didn't want to hear anymore after I got to the Mommy having to push the baby out of her private parts-- he reminded me a lot of my husband at that moment. (When I told my husband, nearly 9 years ago that I was pregnant, he went white as a ghost, leaned over a chair and said, "We have to call the cops.") Obviously, the men in this family don't take to bodily functions of the female variety very well. Now, start talking about poop and such, they are all over it. Moving on. 

Another question: "Mommy what does MIA mean?" This was a day or so before the WWII bunker in my hallway, so I was beginning to wonder where this was all coming from. I explained to him what it means to be MIA at war but that he didn't have to worry about Daddy (I'll do all the worrying here kid!) He didn't let it go at that. I heard him talking about it to his sister who doesn't like talking about Daddy. She replied, "Ummm...do you want to play superstar?" The women in this family apparently have avoidance issues as well.

I came to find out later that at his summer camp they played the movie "Nanny McPhee Returns" (or whatever the title is.) I can't get over the fact they played this movie for a bunch of military kids, some of whom have fathers and mothers deployed right now! If you don't know about this movie, it is about a father who goes to war, during WWII I presume, and is MIA! Nice summer camp....nice. Needless to say, I will be having a discussion with the camp's director. I'm not angry really. The movie fueled some questions for my 7 year old, and that is fine. But then I got this letter on my desk last night (without editing):

Dear Mommy,
I miss daddy so much do you? I feel lik thare is a part of life that is not there. Do you? Well I do. From _____

Oh, it killed me to read that. Why should a 7 year old feel like there is a part of life not there? His life should be right in front of him in all of the glorious kid-like ways! There shouldn't be "parts missing", it should be filled with curiosities of nature, making new friends, feeling the sun on your back, trying to ride your bike with no hands, laughter!  Instead he is focused on war, being missing in action and sleeping in bunkers (and somehow having babies fits into this mindset -- though I haven't figured that part out-- did someone have a baby in the movie?)

So how does one explain to a child that MIA won't happen to Daddy when in his eyes, MIA is happening right here at home. Daddy is MIA! Daddy isn't here! I tried to fill his absence before my husband left by providing the pictures, the daddy dolls, the recordable books. But I know nothing fills that part of my son's little seven year old heart that is missing his Daddy. But deployments are just that: a void. One that lasts too long and one that can sometimes be put to the side during a good day, but never forgotten. A looming question mark that punctuates our daily routine. What if? When? How much longer? If I can't grasp it at times, how do I expect my little ones to understand?

And I thought explaining the birds and the bees was going to be hard.

Itch

So lately I've been itching. A lot. I can't explain it. Last week it was just my ears, now it's my arms, legs, back...even my trainer asked what was up with all the scratches on my legs. I told him, "I'm just so itchy!" Got a weird look from him. While I've been trying to figure out what is causing the itchiness, (are you getting itchy just reading this?) ruling out changes in soap, detergent, sunscreen, etc., I've begun to think that it is psychosomatic. We are, after all, half way through month two of the deployment and if memory serves correct, that is one of the harder months. 

Other signs of wearing down: My hair is falling out. I brush it, and clumps of it remain on the brush. I wash it and out it comes. It's really gross. One of my biggest pet peeves is wet hair-- ugh...can't stand it. I've read that stress can cause hair to fall out. I should be bald by now.

My face looks like I'm a fourteen year old going through puberty. I can honestly say I never really suffered from acne. A few pimples here and there, yes. But until I met my husband and joined with his merry men (the Army), I never had skin problems like I have now. My four year old keeps poking my face and asking, "What's that Mommy?" I tell him they are dots that appear when he doesn't stay in bed at night. Got a weird look from that as well -- and he's still getting out of his bed.

Then there are my nails. Or should I say, stubs where there should be nails. Now this has always been a problem my entire life. I bite my nails. I have tried to kick the habit, but it just never works. I'm really trying not to, especially since my kids will likely pick up this habit if they see me constantly gnawing at my fingertips, but I don't even know I'm doing it most of the time. During this deployment, I know I'm doing it...and doing it a lot. I've tried everything like putting that disgusting tasting oil on my nails -- ate right through that. I've gotten manicures with pretty colors painted on -- ate right through that. In fact, I probably have enough lead in my system from all the nail polish and disgusting oils to set off the alarms at the airport screening lines.

Don't get me started on the lines that are appearing on my face. I guess I can't blame the deployment on those, as lines usually come with age...and I am aging. But I have to wonder, would those lines have appeared later in my life had I not married a soldier? Someone needs to develop a military spouse lotion that takes off a year for every deployment or separation. They would be rich and I would look ten years younger. It's a win/win for everyone. 


So, my body is falling apart and is so itchy, I can't stand it! Maybe it has nothing to do with the deployment. Maybe it's just the heat of summer, the age I have become and the fact that I worry about every detail of my life. Or maybe, like many things in life, it's unexplainable. 

I just wish my hubby were here to scratch my back. 

Left Behind

I've come to realize lately how "out of it" I have become. Meaning, I don't keep up with the trends. I don't watch the latest, greatest things on TV and I certainly don't keep up with the music scene like I used to. In fact, to further corroborate this,  there is the realization that I'm beginning to like television shows that people were "into" a couple of years ago, or even several years ago. The reason? Boredom and the fact that I am a milspouse.

Yes, my kids are driving me nuts when they are here. Yes, I am running around like a crazy woman trying to get them from swimming lessons to summer camp, from playdates to library days; however, when they are at said places, I am bored. I flip on the TV -- mostly to avoid any sort of housework. I see that old reruns of "Sex in the City" are on and I think, I remember people talking about this, I'll give it a try. And many episodes later, I am wondering where the heck was I in the late 90's and early 2000's? Ummm... working. A lot. 

I was working at five different breweries on the east coast, marketing them and their beer and food. And then I was swept into the the arms of a soldier, and it all came to a screeching (well, not really screeching, more like a sputtering -- we dated long distance for a year) halt. We married, moved. Got pregnant. Moved. Birthed baby. Moved to a second world country. Got pregnant, (not much else to do there) moved. Unless it was on Armed Forced Network, I wasn't watching. And there wasn't a lot on AFN...unless you wanted to learn the benefits of eating healthy from some lady who commanded the International Commissary Battalion, or where ever she was from. (I remember she had a mushroom-type haircut which my husband and I mercilessly made fun of).

I do remember my parents mailing me VHS tapes of "The Apprentice," a show that I so enjoyed-- reminding me of the crazy part of America that I missed so much. I looked forward to those packages filled with VHS tapes, mac and cheese, peanut butter and formula for my baby. Things I just couldn't get in Slovakia (or at least I couldn't recognize on the shelves in Slovakia.) In fact, one promising package from a certain drugstore online closed the US Embassy down due to the fact that the formula they sent exploded in shipment, sending white residue all over the postal area. This was in 2004, when white powder in a mail room was cause for huge concern. (probably still is) I'll never forget the call, "Mrs _____, we've received a package addressed to you, white powder everywhere, blah blah blah, evacuation, blah blah blah, come down immediately, blah blah blah" you get the idea. Totally embarrassing. If I didn't say it enough at the time, it wasn't anthrax! It was baby formula! And I'm sorry US Embassy workers in Slovakia!

Then came the first of many deployments.


And there I was with a 12 month old and a big old pregnant belly. Not so much time for TV watching. Then came the baby. Four months later, another deployment. So, a new baby and a toddler equaled no television pleasure for me. Unless you count endless hours of Thomas the Tank Engine being pleasurable. Which I do not. 

Years pass and though I enjoy and appreciate PBS, that is all I got to watch, or in my case hear, since I couldn't stand to stomach watching the endless "Cliffords," "Caillous" (quite possibly the most annoying character on TV) and "Barneys" (second most annoying character on TV).  


Years pass again and now I find myself battling for position with older children. Children who want to watch "iCarly" (no), "Wizards of Waverly Place" (uh- no) and "Big Time Rush" (mm-mm). I know, I know...everyone is watching those shows (or are they?)...and I am probably setting the kids up for culture-failure when they go to school and everyone is talking about the big ta-do on whatever show they aren't allowed to watch. But I've survived without "Sex and the City" for the last decade, and now, after a gift from my sister, a year's worth of "Glee" is sitting on my desk waiting to be watched. Yes, I admit, I have not watched "Glee" -- am I the only one? So, I figure my kids can be denied whatever "in" television program is on. Get outside! Play! Let me watch Carrie and Aidan! (yes, I am a hypocrite!)


So boredom has taken over going into the second month of deployment. And I think I've gotten the gist of "Sex in the City." I'm kinda over it...they make me feel even less trendy even though twelve years have past! Maybe I'll pop in the "Glee" dvds and see what I've been missing. Or, maybe for old time's sake, I'll flip on over to PBS and see what Clifford has been up to. Something tells me, nothing much has changed on Birdwell Island.

Which, in some ways, is very comforting.