An unusual beauty

The sunrises over the top of the Himalayan mountains have been beautiful.  Over the top of the walls, you can see the sunlight cresting over the mountains.  They are visible for a few short hours until the dust of vehicles covers them again.  The beauty is surprising in this environment, reminding you that in the midst of a war torn and impoverished country, beauty is there for those that look.  The days have been warm and inviting, and spirits have been good.

The winds picked up late last night and made one feel as if they were sleeping, "under a flag pole" as my tech puts it. It sounded more like my bed was attached to the flag as the tent moved in the wind throughout the night.  I was surprised this morning to open the door and be greeted by fast winds and really wet snow.  They have been calling for snow, but nothing has happened until today.  The only one happy about the snow was the dog, who couldn't sit still all day for hopes of running outside and playing in the snow.  I do admit it was perfect packing snow... a few snowballs proved that quite well.  My techs do not understand their new doc yet, as I missed my target, but he turned around and fired one back at our NCOIC.  He was very surprised that I had thrown the first one.  While the snow gave us some playful moments, it made the day drag in the clinic.  It took out much of our systems until the snow past.  My conversation home was dropped.  Nobody wants to venture out in the snow to come see us, nor does anyone want to venture out in the mud to see us tomorrow. 

Now... the only reminder is the snow capped mountains when the sun sets over the top.

One week down

It's early Sunday morning here, and the sounds of people Skyping to their family surround me.  Today was the first time I got to Skype with my little guys.  The time difference, internet issues, and multiple other factors can make that a challenge.  I loaned out my equipment when I was done to the gentleman sitting next to me, because I understand just how important that little contact can be.

It's been a whirlwind of a week.  The team has stepped up to the plate and embraced a few new differences.  We're becoming more creative with the prevention techniques that are used, and had more than 300 contacts this week.  Our therapy dog, Apollo, helps to break through that barrier and create lasting smiles on people's faces.  He even flew to a close FOB to visit the vet.  He was decked out in a harness, saddle bags, eye protection and hearing protection.  That was a sight to see, and was probably responsible for multiple laughs and pictures from soldiers and contractors on this site.  He gave us our own personal show a few days later when we squeezed past on of my sergeants to jump into the driver's seat of the truck.  He was happy as a clam ready to go with us to the gym.  With four of us opening the doors to the truck to get him out, he was staying just out of reach jumping over the seats until someone finally got his treats out and shook them.  I don't know if he'll fall for that one again, but we all were laughing so hard that we were doubled over.  It was just what we needed to end the day.

Days seem almost too short to get everything I need to do accomplished, but there is the realization that tomorrow will always have more work to do.  I work 6 days a week with Sundays off.  That's a luxury here, but we need a recovery day after caring for others throughout the week.  I am still on-call, but I do not mind having to do such things.  Our hours vary depending on our mission.  If someone needs to talk at 8pm, we are technically off, but we still head out to see the person.  We're available 24/7.

I live on the opposite side of our site from the office.  It's not that far of a trek, but my techs pick me up every morning.  I typically walk back from the gym at night.  The conditions meet my expectations of a deployed environment with tent living, a 1.5 block walk to the showers and a mess hall tent that can seat 150.  The food reminds me of Taco Bell: we have six ingredients, how dishes can we make?  Friday nights are surf and turf... and we actually got lobster tails this time.  All in all... it's not a bad deal.

Since it's Sunday, I'm looking forward to going to the contemporary service here.  It's been a while and I am looking forward to a little time without having to worry about others.  It's either a great ending to the week, or a great start... whatever way you wish to view that.  I may just see it as both!

The little things

While it was a long trip, the arrival went smoother than I anticipated.  I had been warned about combat landings, and arriving in country was surprisingly smooth.  Due to time zone changes, I was traveling for almost two full days.  There was a short layover in two separate countries, but I spent the majority of the time in the air thinking about what was to come.

It's been a slow week for me as I've adjusted to crossing 12 different time zones.  I've adjusted to being in a frigidly cold environment and maintaining a sense of normal wherever I am.  The bathroom is a 100m walk from my temporary housing. The pipes have frozen in the bathroom, so showers are freezing cold if you get one, and the only toilet that flushes is the one that constantly runs.  There are four comforters on my bed at night, fuzzy socks, and a stocking cap, but I sleep and praying for the will to brave the cold in the morning. 

Despite the austere environment, it is truly the little things that are important.  It's the ability to call home and greet the kids as they are just waking up in the morning.  It's a cup of freshly brewed coffee in the office... even if it's not Starbucks or a Big Foot Latte.  It's an email from home... a good book to talk about that people can share.... it's a smile greeting me from pictures.

Today's surprise was the taped worship service from the church that arrived in my email box.  While there is only a 30 minute limit on computers at the MWR, I chose to ignore that rule tonight just to take a moment to worship as I have not had nor will I have the opportunity to attend worship in a while.  It's such a simple thing, but it has meant so much to me today.  It's a connection to home.  It's a moment to sit with 30 people and forget where I am for just a moment and connect with something so much greater.  It means so much to me, and I wish I could download this onto my iPod and listen whether I need just a little dose to keep me grounded.  "Where you go, I'll go... Where you stay, I'll stay... Where you move, I'll move... I will follow."

Weapons qualification earned.  All medical appointments met.  Legal paperwork is together.  And of course the bags are packed. I have spent much of my week getting to know some of the other individuals training through this site. We have talked and shared stories from different places in the military.  We have laughed at others' war stories.  We have even shared the challenges of our respective professions to see how others have handled similar problems. As the week has progressed, one of the first few questions out of anyone's mouth is typically, "Where's home?" and "Any kids?"  Men and women alike, the same questions are asked. Men will tell you ages and the children's names if you specifically ask, but the conversation typically ends there about family.  Occasionally, I will hear, "Wow... I bet it's harder for a Mom to deploy" from the men I am speaking to.  Yesterday, I expressed, "Well, I can't be in both shoes, so I do not know."  I finally got a candid answer as to why people think it is harder for a woman: the relationship that is shared between mother and child.  The men told me they watched their wives interact with their children and can only imagine what it must be like for them to be separated for any amount of time. 

I shared dinner with a group of female captains.  Our opening statements were about our children without asking if we had any, and then phones or ipods were talken out and pictures were shared.  One woman showed a picture of the ZhuZhu pet her son gave her to bring along.  I pulled my ACU rubber ducky from my pocket and showed it to the other women sitting at the table.  We shared stories of our children, laughed, and talked as if we did not need to go back to pack bags or finish that one last item before pulling out of the states for a while.  We quickly bonded over our children as we would have in the park, at the office, or any other setting.  It's a universal language for Mom's everywhere. 

What made me even more impressed, was this was neither one of these woman's first rodeo.  One had deployed a few times and she expressed the plan she had for her child each and every time.  Of course it's hard, but there's also a bond developed through these hardships everywhere: one with family and the deployed spouse, mother to mother, and across many generations who have done this before.

Central Issue Versus a Packing Pro

I believe I have mastered the art to pack four people's clothing for a week long trip in just one large checked bag that way there is enough space left for diapers, toys and other items necessary for such a long trip.  When you travel by airplane, there is a limited amount of items that can be taken without paying additional fees, so one must learn how to pack.  Today the Central Issuing Facility (CIF) challenged these skills.

We drew all of our equipment today, and those of us not lucky enough to have memos from out command stating that we did not need such items as intrenching tools, were forced to draw every item.  I walked out of the warehouse with three full duffel bags and a ruck sack.  I had been so proud coming down here that I had only a half duffel bag full of necessary items (physical training clothing, gym shoes, under garments, etc.) and of course there was enough room left for my pillow.  If you ask my husband, I am very picky about my pillow and that is an item of luxury for me to take.  I make it back to my barracks room to see four full duffel bags and a ruck sack large enough to pack the family for a week long trip.  How in the world am I going to reduce this by at least one bag and then still carry these bags with me from my drop off point to my quarters in country?  One idea comes to mind: UPS.  I can ship unnecessary items either A) to myself in theatre or B) to home and them do an exchange just before I come home so my personal items go home and these unnecessary items come back to me to turn into CIF.  That would leave me with just my carry on luggage, which can sustain me two or three days if necessary. I am surprising myself with my skills to consolidate, and it looks like I may be able to reduce the amount by a full bag with appropriate packing.  I am also hoping that one bag can be placed in a wall locker never to be opened for items that are necessary, but I hope to never have to use (such as a parka that will go to -30 degrees.) 

I got a chuckle while learning how to put together the pieces of our body armor, which features an improved quick escape by pulling a single chord. We had a 30 minute block of instruction on how to put on, take off, quickly disassemble and then reassemble our equipment.  By the time I had made it back to the table to try, I found my tablemate had already begun and his equipment was spread across my own.  Being a much lower ranking officer, I decided to step back and watch as he was assembling as to not get our equipment mixed.  I politely answered questions, and then decided that I really wanted to have a warm dinner tonight, so I started assisting him as well.  Just when I thought he had it, and he was seeming much more confident, I turned to begin with mine.  I had a few more items to secure and I watched my tablemate proudly pick up his equipment and place it over his head, to have it fall apart in pieces on the floor again.  Thank goodness for skills sets such as not showing surprise or horror and not laughing at those same looks as they came across his face.  Of course, the next thought is, "Why was I so selfish to stop when I did, because then he wouldn't have to start over?" A few moments later, he was looking over mine to see if I had succeeded in remembering the step he had forgotten.  I think neither one of us will forget that experience with different lessons learned: attention to details and patience even when I would much prefer to satisfy my own personal needs.

Update: This packing guru had everything consolidated into only two duffel bags and a ruck sack... until I remembered that the plates for my body armor had to be packed a special way to keep them safe.  So... while I could probably still do only two duffel bags... I have three as to be within the weight limit and everything in one piece (hopefully) when I arrive in country.

A graduated sense of separation

My time in the states feels just like another trip away from the boys. Cell-phones are still working and I have access to talking to Kevin while waiting.  And there is no shortage in waiting.  

The final preparation feels like two days of training packed into seven.  Early morning formations in a different time zone mean early bedtimes and not much time to call between naps and bedtime.  Many hours are spent wishing for something to do and feeling confined to the compound. There are many different levels of readiness for those coming through this course.  Many of us were screened at our posts and viewed as 100% complete equating to more time on our hands waiting for the next formation, a chance to workout in the gym, or waiting for the next meal so we have something to do.

I realize how tied I am to technology.  The wireless internet has been down for a few days, so favorite past times are not possible, neither is Skype.  Tonight was the first time I had the opportunity to see the boys.  It was fun to watch them play and be their normal silly self.  My husband read the baby's current favorite bed time book, "Over There."  My oldest has it memorized by now and is reciting it along with Dad.  At the end, I see the little guy lean down and give me a kiss.  I wish I could be there to receive that kiss myself; however, seeing it is second best. 

Opportunities present themselves within the numerous waiting periods.  I am learning not to waste them. During a large block of down-time, a group of docs went on a shopping trip to spring us from the compound and make a few connections.  We had a sense of normal in the midst of preparation. A trip to the surplus store, an office supply store and of course, a coffee shop meant that we were human. (And a friend made who's favorite coffee shop is also BigFoot!) Had technology worked, we might have all been connected with something else instead of with each other.  And yet, technology is what keeps us connected to our loved ones who are supporting us at home.  It becomes a delicate balance to use the resources we have at this time to create a sense of connection to both worlds: our home family and our deployed family.

Goodbyes

Email was quiet, phones were silent, and the last day was spent at home playing together. We did art projects and played with fire engines. A special Sesame Street called "Talk, Listen, Connect" about deployment was watched. We had a family jam session with my oldest and Kevin on guitar and my youngest helping me play piano or dancing  We made the best of our day. I think it was the first one I wished that the boys did not need to take a nap since becoming a parent, but knew this was necessary to have a good evening. 

Things were kept as normal as possible. We didn't have ice cream first for dinner nor did we eat with our toes. I just savored each moment of normal to lock that away in my heart for when I would need it the most in the next few months. Baths were run, and books were read with tears in my eyes and on my checks. It was inevitable, but that didn't stop the pain. Each boy had a picture framed on their shelf or dresser to say goodnight to each evening. 

I thought my youngest would take this the hardest. He's my boy, my shadow, and insistent that he cannot share me with anyone. From the darkness of the upstairs hallway, I could hear my oldest with his husky, Wags, playing, "I love you, I miss you, I'll see you soon" over and over again nearly four hours after his bedtime. He didn't want to fall asleep for fear that I would leave before he got up in the morning. 

As hard as those goodbyes were, the next morning seemed to go so slow. I did not want to wish away my time with my boys; however, I was not the best company with them either. Playtime was attempted, but too difficult delaying the inevitable for everyone. Before I went on leave a coworker had given me four small rubber duckies dressed in different soldier uniforms for everyone in the family to serve as our transitional objects until I would return home.  My boys selected their rubber duckies and placed them in their pockets and I dropped mine in a cargo pocket as well. They apparently fit very well in a four person Webbles bus, but now one is missing as is the same in our family. 

We arrived way too early for my flight. I tried my best to be present with my boys, but a soldier in uniform saying a tearful goodbye creates a bit of attention.   A large part of me wished to not let my boys see me cry and remain strong. The reality was that this is a sad time. Nobody wants to say goodbye and where I am going prevents me from getting on a plane and returning for the weekend. A combat zone holds some level of risk, so goodbyes must be said with a reminder that I will see them again.   The tears from my husband were possibly the hardest to witness as he tearfully promised to take good care of the boys.  I made him promise to go fishing, because otherwise his goals would keep him away from obtaining his fishing license. 

Family of a deploying soldier are allowed to go through the security checkpoint as long as they have a copy of the deployment orders and they receive clearance from the airline. We decided not to go through as my boys have flown before and going through security means we get on the plane together. They waited outside of security to watch me go through and I attempted to hold the fractured pieces of myself together. I have flown multiple times a year on business, but this time TSA was being unbelievably helpful in getting me through smoothly without having to take everything off or undo too many things from my bag. Kisses were blown and I grabbed my bag to walk to the terminal and attempt to make the tears stop as I walked.  Flashes of the goodbyes kept running through my mind making that a difficult experience. It was time to put on my game face and drive on. 

A change in plans?

After spending so much time preparing everyone that I would leave, I received a phone call exactly two weeks before I would have boarded a plane to go to the final requirement to deploy: CONUS Replacement Center.  The chief of my department was alerting me that the man responsible for filling deployments wanted to move my date to four months later, possibly move my family to a new location and consequently extend my deployment.  And all of this news fell on Dec 23.  I was only missing my evaluation to be signed out of the hospital.  I was scheduled to work only two more days before taking a large amount of leave to enjoy my family.  After a very tense conversation with a high ranking officer, the decision was stated, "Well, just carry on as if you are leaving and I'll let you know last minute if things change."  What is qualified as last minute if two weeks out is not last minute?

Needless to say, I felt a little like Clark Griswold from National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation when he received the jelly of the month as his Christmas bonus.  "Hallelujah... Holy..." Well, you get the idea.  All the hard work of arranging help and respite care.  The time spent ensuring the children would be left in a familiar environment and getting them enrolled in on-post activities... gone?  Really?  It was like Ralphie in the Christmas Story learning there would be no leftover turkey.  It is definitely not what you expect and left me checking my email like a neurotic squirrel looking for a misplaced nut and being on pins and needles until a few days before when no word was received to change my plans. 

That time I set aside to be devoted to me being home and just being Mom still held that reminder that I am a military mom.  My life is not truly my own and I must remember to be flexible.  We don't joke about "flexicution" for nothing.

Preparation

When I say this journey started while watching an in-flight movie, I only mean the physical leg of the journey.  I was told six months prior to my deployment that I was going.  That gave adequate amounts of time to prepare and adequate amounts of time to just wish I could leave tomorrow so that I could be home that much sooner.  Kevin, my husband, and I spent much of our time talking about how we would smoothly transition the boys, ages thirteen months and three and a half years at the time of my departure, into me being gone.

I collected tips from coworkers who had previously deployed.  Kevin did infinite hours of research on-line to find activities and tips to help the boys.  Together, we developed an arsenal of resources to make sure the boys could remotely understand what was happening.  Each had a Mommy specific version of the book "Over There".  They had stuffed animals we made together with my voice inside saying, "I love you, I miss you, and I'll see you soon."  As time got closer to deployment, a chain was placed connecting all the bedrooms with a link for each day my orders stated I would be gone (plus a few more just in case). 

Kevin found programs to enroll the boys to give them something special to do while I was gone.  The post offered 16 hours of free daycare per child a month allowing him a break from being full-time Dad, as well as allowing him to do things with each child one on one.  Our date night sitter lived five minutes away and was scheduled to come at least once a month for a little respite for Kevin.  Our church poured out their support and people offered help to Kevin in such a beautiful and heart warming response.  We have no family close out here as the closest is half a country away.  Our military and church families just reached out to care for us when we needed it the most.

I have always been someone who wants to spend as much time as possible with my boys, but those months leading up to deployment, we did so many more special things as a family.  We took a family trip to the San Juan islands and spent a little more just to find a hotel with a pool.  My oldest loves to swim and my youngest got a first time experience.  We went to the zoo, the park, and just played at the house.  Who cared if dirty dishes were in the sink?  Those can be done later.  I only had so much time available to be with them.  We made cookies or cakes most weekends because my little guys loved wearing their "wrappers" to help in the kitchen and bedtimes were missed to watch an extra movie with Mom.  My youngest even got his entire bookshelf read to him one night before bed just to spend a little more time cuddling.  Kevin found Operation Love: Reunited (www.oplove.org) in the post's newsletter and we had pictures taken as a family so I could receive them down range some time during my deployment.  We ordered a few from there as well for the boys to have an individual picture with me in their rooms.  One was ordered for my husband to have a recent one of the two of us as well.  I made a cookbook for Kevin to have, since I do 90% of the cooking around the house.  They were easy recipes, but everyone has to start somewhere.

All the literature about deployment preparation suggests that each person has a goal for the deployment.  The service member can have a goal while gone as does the family.  I chose to get into better shape while away, and lose any remaining weight that might be lingering after having a couple kids.  Kevin wanted to become a little more proficient at cooking and to help us accomplish our goal as a couple: home ownership.  We really want to have the opportunity to own a home when we PCS to our next duty station.  Kevin has drafted a budget and is determined to make this happen.  We have a few houses we view as our goal and will see how close we can get to achieving this dream.

Introduction

I find it very interesting that my adventures start with the movie, "I Don't Know How She Does It" as the in-flight movie.  That seems to be the phrase I have heard the most while at home.  Working as an intern or a resident in the psychology department for 45+ hours a week and going home to make dinner, clean the house, bake cookies, make the boys pjs and play in the praise team at church.  I am a Mom.  That part of me has been known by everyone around me.  When others are teased about their adventures outside or within work, my punch line always has something to do with my kids.  It is only fitting that my newest adventure of deployment would start with a movie to show me just how much others are feeling that as well in the civilian sector.  It's nice also to see things end well despite the rough patches.

Is it really that different for a man to be deployed as it is for a woman?  I can never be both.  Well... maybe with a little reconstructive surgery it is possible, but not desired that is.  I tried to look for information on other military moms making this work.  I found that the shelves are pretty empty.  Here I am trying to prepare my family and myself and the only reference I found was about a psychologist who had young twins at home when she deployed (Kraft, 2007).  Her method of handling the separation from her kids was to turn that part of her off.  She couldn't allow herself to be Mom while in a deployed environment.  That just didn't seem like a viable answer to me.  There are moments, especially when standing outside security at the airport trying to say goodbye or getting things ready for the boys before I left where I wished I could wall off that pain and not feel it.  That pain is there because I am Mom, it's a part of me and has to be felt in order to not regret any part of this trip.  Tears and all outside of TSA security check points.  It shows my boys that Mommy can be sad about this, too.  I am not super human and I can feel pain just like they do.  I don't need to be Super Mom, but just who I am...where ever I am.

This is the story of my adventures; however corny this may be to some.  This is a mother's journey through deployment as a method to make sense of the hard times and possibly give a sense of hope (or just reality) to some other military moms out there as well.