Army Family Covenant

This week we had a very interesting and wonderful opportunity to participate in our local signing of the Army Family Covenant.

We got to be one of five witness families since they were pulling from a lot of demographics (one was a single parent household, one was a dual military household where both parents were Soldiers, I forget the other one, and we were one of two traditional families) and we also happened to be the lowest ranking family there. Everyone else was senior enlisted or higher.

I've never seen so many Colonels in one room before. Basically, the only person who wasn't there from our Regional Command was the General himself. We met every commanding Colonel from our post, garrison, and battalion. The Command Sergeant Major of the West Region was in attendance and incidentally is either a very nice man or a very competent schmoozer. We met the guy who is the regional head for MWR which means that while he's a civilian, he deals with commanding generals. And he really liked Tag's tie and shirt combo and chatted with him about reading. Poor Man was just overwhelmed by all of the birds and oak leaves and rockers in the room (rank insignia stuff) and it was interesting just to see these people are who command us. They were all, without fail, interested in our kids, talked to them directly, made a point of knowing which company we were in, and freely exchanged information on their own families, places they've served all over the nation and world, and were generally very kind. The Mayor was there as well.

Now, a brief background on how we ended up being there that night. You all know about the volunteer work I've been doing and loving. Well, I know the lady at ACS well enough that when they told her to find families of these demographics it was easy for her to just email people who fit the bill. I happened to be free the night she said the event would take place. She said it was no big deal, just a photo op with cake afterwards, she had no idea who was actually going to be there, etc. I said, ok, happy to help out in any way we can.

So we get there and of course the first person we encounter is the Battalion Commander and his wife. The men exchanged appropriate outdoor, in-uniform greetings and the wives got down to chatting like women do. After meeting everyone else, we sat, then were the first family to go up on the little stage to pose for the cameras while the Garrison Commander, the Garrison Command Sergeant Major, two people from Regional Command, and that civilian MWR bigwig all signed the covenant.

We (or, the people who knew it) sang the Army Song then we all started the process of stepping off the stage. Each soldier shook the MWR guy's hand and he palmed them a West Region Commander's Coin. The local MWR director also gave each family an AAFES gift cert as a thank you for participation. Then the Garrison Commander turned around and gave Princess the pen she signed the covenant with. It's a nice pen with a coat of arms on the end and everything. I'm going to swap her a fun pen for the nice one and keep it in the fire box until she's older.

We stayed around and ate cake and drank punch and chatted some more, and it was just like the end of church, when the kids and husband are hungry and ready to go but I'm not done talking yet.

I realized afterward that, in my little heels (yes, they were the only remotely cute shoes in my size and they have a 1" heel) I was as tall as or taller than everyone on that stage. I was standing next to the Command Sergeant Major and towered. But I bet he could still take me down before I could blink.

Then we went home, got everyone into pajamas while I whipped up some dinner, and Man and I discussed with cheesy grins how cool it was to meet this or that person, what we thought of the Covenant itself, and recalled in amazement how coincidental and insignificant it had felt to be asked to attend in the first place. And to think I was thinking of calling in sick! We've all been hacking up lungs and going through massive quantities of tissues for days now.

Update from dr's appt: all is well. I'm still measuring big (3-4 weeks big) but Freida is head down with as beautiful a heartbeat as we could wish for.

One of the reasons I love Christmas, and I'm soooo glad these people aren't my neighbors

My neighbors are all putting up their Christmas stuff outside. The people behind us have lined their fence with white icicle lights which are some of my favs. Others have 10 ft. tall inflatable nonsense in their yards. The guys who had a really nifty Halloween chest that would open up every time a car drove past now have some sort of snowman arrangement. Other people have absolutely nothing at all except for one lonely, sort of creepy, inflatable Christmas... thing, standing completely isolated in their yards.

On the other hand, what if this guy was your neighbor? I'd pop some popcorn, whip up some cocoa, and invite my friends over for the show, but then I'd throw my shoe at him if he woke up my kids.

Behold:
Frisco Christmas Lights

I can't imagine how loud and bright this is in real life but if he really is in "Frisco" I'd imagine there'd be noise ordinances.

Gosh, how old am I? Cool display and all I can think about is if it would keep me awake at night. Even with a nap yesterday I could hardly roll my sorry self out of bed this morning. Oh, well. Dr's appt today and now I go to see him every week until Baby Freida gets induced EXACTLY ONE MONTH FROM TODAY!!!! If I make it that long. She's already dropping and my body is doing other things to prepare for delivery but I'm positive that she'll make it at least the 2.5 weeks she needs to be considered term.

And my dear neighbor is moving in two weeks. :( ::sigh:: Another good friend to say goodbye to. Dare I grieve? Man and I spoke with the Primary Pres a couple of weeks ago, explaining that with a new baby and then Man preparing to move on to additional training soon after that it would be wise for us to be released at the new year. But by then I'll have only a couple of months before moving again. Being in the Primary has really given us a lot of compassion for people whose callings keep them largely isolated from the rest of the congregation as far as weekly social time is concerned. We've been in there since just a couple of weeks after moving here and I feel like I don't know very many people at all, with little time to make up for that before moving again. At least our next duty station will be more or less long term. Even if Man does end up getting deployed apparently they'll give us a free move to where ever my support network is, so next time we move I have high hopes of actually getting to know people.

Oh, well. There's my pity party for the day. I'll post again if the dr appt turns anything weird up.

My Sock Monkey

My little Sock Monkey! I have a sock bucket that I stash socks in until I get through a few loads of laundry. It's also where I keep lonely socks between laundry binges. Pebbles found my bucket and since it's kinda chilly and I hadn't put her in real clothes for the day yet, she got creative.

And here's a bonus shot of her trade mark intensity.

From a chain mail:

Last year at Thanksgiving, my mom went to my sister's house for the traditional feast. Knowing how gullible my sister is, my mom decided to play a trick. She told my sister that she needed something from the store.When my sister left, my mom took the turkey out of the oven, removed the stuffing, stuffed a Cornish hen, and inserted it into the turkey,and re-stuffed the turkey. She then placed the bird back in the oven.When it was time for dinner, my sister pulled the turkey out of the oven and proceeded to remove the stuffing. When her serving spoon hit something, she reached in and pulled out the little bird. With a look of total shock on her face, my mother exclaimed,"Patricia, you've cooked a pregnant bird!"At the reality of this horrifying news, my sister started to cry. It took the family two hours to convince her that turkeys lay eggs!

New Sport: Rolling Over In Bed

Sports casters:

Ted - nasal, high strung, had too much coffee. Is bitter that he doesn't get to work for the Olympics next year.
Phil - cheerful, informed, naive.

Team Event: Rolling over in bed.
Special considerations: handicaps - A is 8 months pregnant and Man has extended shoulder condition.

Ted: Well, folks, our event today is going to just knock your socks off. I know I wore two pairs just in case. There are two players on this team which can be both an advantage as well as a serious hindrance.

Phil: You're right, Ted, especially with the other listed handicaps coming into play. The times Man is gone A can just sort of spread all over the bed in very little time but she suffers serious point loss on form.

T: Well, it's not like we're dealing with professionals here. Haha!!

P: Well, Ted, after 6.5 years of marriage and their fourth pregnancy, I don't know what you'd consider a professional. The event is about to begin so let's take a look at the starting line up.

T: It looks like Man is already laying on his back for the night since he lost that right side, which has put a real damper on the available space for prego over there. A is laying on her right though and is just about to wake up.

P: Oh, there she goes, her eyes are open. Let's see if we can tell from her face what's going on... looks like her arm is numb! How'd that happen? Folks, this means that she absolutely must turn so here we go!

T: To start out it looks like she's just going to try the Relax and Flatten to get her half way there. It's always risky to go straight for Supine but this late in the pregnancy you have to watch out for some serious Charlie Horsing... Oh! Look at that grimace! She took the chance and it didn't pay off!

P: Oh, disappointing, folks she's turning back the other way! Oh, wait, she's trying the Barrel Roll where you bear hug the body pillow and try to roll over in place in one swift move to avoid any unnecessary stretching of the abdomen. Look at the shoulder action! The elbow is following...

T: Will her opposite knee hit the bed in time to redeem her earlier fumble? Oh! Oh! The body pillow got snagged at the bottom of the blankets! That foot action to try to get it under the blankets just isn't cutting it and it looks like she'll either have to try again or go without covers!

P: For the people are home who didn't hear about the Great Blanket Treaty, it's interesting to note that while this particular team has a queen sized bed they use king sized blankets to prevent mass confusion and midnight drafts. But even with king sized blankets that body pillow just isn't making it possible for A to keep warm and move to the non-sore side.

T: Well, folks, it looks like her knee is able to contact the mattress but without sitting up and totally rearranging the covers she just won't stay warm tonight. Will she go the extra mile, claim those extra comfort points and sit up?

P: Ted, it doesn't look like it. Her eyes are already closing again and yep, her mouth is even hanging open. Looks like it's all over, folks, without anyone crossing the finish line. She does earn extra points for not waking up Man but that last lazy choice just isn't going to get her ranked...

T: Wait, wait, the eyes are coming open again! Look, she's turning the other way and wow what a barrel roll! Both shoulders and legs over in record time with the pillow turning with such precision! What form! What style! Wait! She didn't stop!

P: Yes, Ted, it looks like this was an emergency Herculean Spin which is unique in that it doesn't stop until she actually hits her feet on the floor. Look at that dash out the door! Wow, you can tell she's practiced this one hundreds of times!

T: She may not have the grace she used to, but man can she book it when Freida gets to kicking. Here she comes back. Based on habit, I'm guessing she'll just got for the Snatch and Slither... Yes, there goes the grab for the pillow and this time her foot work is just perfect!

P: The pillow made it under the covers! Yes! Yes! I've never seen such a recovery! Oh, wait, wait, while she was gone Man rolled on top of the covers. Will she have enough to tuck in? Oh! Just barely!

T: But here's the real test Phil. Will Man wake up? He's been known to sham just like a pro but he's so considerate that we'll be able to tell if he got woken up by if he gets off the covers... no such luck. Oh, well. Points for not waking Man but some loss for lack of a desirable quantity of covers.

P: Ted, it looks like she's comfortable enough to get right back to sleep though, so the covers may not play into the final comfort score. The judges are discussing the final positioning and overall performance... some head wagging and laughing over there. I bet the Charlie Horsing, even though it came before that amazing recovery, will definitely count against her.

T: Well, if she had just gone for the barrel roll that cramping never would have happened. Here are the scores! 6.5 out of 10, but factor in the pregnancy handicap and we have a solid 8.

P: Tune in for the next roll over and see if we can observe yet another spectacular dash to the bathroom. We expect it to happen within the next 2 hours so stay with us.

School fundraisers

So far this year we've been asked to help our kindergarten children with no fewer than 4 fundraisers. Is this the state of educational affairs, that in addition to academic pressure our kids must also compete by selling? Princess came home today totally excited about the latest one which is 2 fundraisers in one, cookie dough and those discount cards you can use with local merchants. We've also had Scholastic hit us up a couple of times and a t-shirt sale. But this time they've brought in the sneaky people who offer the kids rewards all the way from some sort of sticky lizard thing up to a $75 Target gift card. As a high school student my experience only got worse: dreams of sound systems, sports equipment, science toys, etc all proudly displayed and crowed over by a salesperson who was allowed to come in and talk it all up with toothy grins, business suits, and pressure, pressure, pressure.

So Princess came home today and I remembered that feeling, remembered the pressure, the cajoling, the prizes for power selling and competing with peers. I remembered the worthy causes that these fund raisers all supported, the worthy causes that big, bad government wouldn't fund because of their backward priorities and therefore it was up to us to support these worthy causes by being missionaries, crusaders, champions of justice and right. You would be remembered as the power seller who lifted and redeemed these programs that had been left to atrophy by callous administrators who were also the saints with the genius and condescension to allow these sales to take place. The teacher would retreat into the background for the duration of the sales pitch, remain quiet for a short time afterward to let it all soak in as it would, nervously clear his or her throat and then resume business as usual. Unless it was a sports coach or music teacher, in which case you'd get more of a pitch from the truly needy instructor who, due to a very real lack of funding, would plead for help with the budget so equipment and sheet music wouldn't have to come out of teacher or parent pockets.

But who do you sell to? Princess' packet says in several places that you should never sell door to door for safety reasons. I'm not about to ask Man to take one to work to leave on the table where everyone can see it and have the opportunity to purchase. Why? Because he feels about it much as I do. I could try parents at the park like the other determined and earnest people who run home businesses (though they're always so very nice about it, really). The parents I know all have kids making the same sales pitches and spending from their own pockets as well so the little darlings won't go without a sticky lizard. I could run an ad in the paper, post fliers at super markets, risk posting privileges on Craig's list by advertising there. Who are these people kidding? Who could we possibly sell to?

This latest fund raiser is all the more infuriating because, as mentioned, there are two things for sale: cookie dough and discount cards. Three pounds of dough is a cool $14 and the cards are $10. Gone are the days when you could get away with spending a couple of bucks just to make the kids feel better. Now it's either hero or hoser. If you're a hoser, you are responsible for the bitter disappointment Jr. will feel when he faces his teacher empty handed and won't receive his sticky lizard or the adulation of his peers.

I wonder if I could waiver my kids out of these sales pitches like Sex Ed. I can keep them from being exposed to bipartisan propaganda in the form of sexual education so I should be able to keep my child from being exposed to cruel, pointless, unsolicited sales pitches.

Obviously these fund raisers bother me. Perhaps I'm recalling them as an angst-ridden teenager who didn't fit in but would if only I could sell. Perhaps we got these around mid-terms when other concerns were burdensome enough without yet another straw added to the pile. Maybe it was the look on my parents' faces, the one that said "we don't even have enough money for a decent Christmas... how can we afford this overpriced nonsense?"

I could go on as I'm sure you've guessed. But I'll tell you what I'll do. My daughter will receive the empowerment speech and then the matter will be laid to rest.

Ahem. Dear, there is something you must know about fundraising. It's an unfortunate necessity of an overburdened, understaffed, under appreciated institution that is desperate for support it can't otherwise claim from a largely armchair-outcry nation. Feel free to sell if you must and I shall help you in reasonable ways such as transportation, but understand that disappointment is a great possibility since the nature of this endeavor forces you to base your success on the choices of other people. I feel that academic advancement is for more valuable at this stage of your life and urge you to keep your priorities in perspective. I'm proud of who you are and how well you do with the challenges you face. I would not be disappointed if you didn't give this business another thought. Let me know what you decide.

Now let's go play at the park. You're 5 years old, for Pete's sake!

Before I scar you, let me explain.

That's how I felt talking to my Princess this past weekend.

We have a lot of expenses coming up with Freida needing a car seat and clothes. Thankfully, I didn't give away any of the blankets, receiving blankets, baby bjorn, and a few other new baby necessities, but I did give away several bags of clothes and bulkier items.

Then there's Christmas. We're still keeping it simple and less expensive this year (see above expenses) and we've also had to buy a clothes dryer recently.

This past Saturday I went to the PX glasses shop to see what my prescription would cost me. It's looking like a pair of glasses, for eyes as bad as mine, won't cost less than $400. I was expecting $50ish. I felt like I'd been hit in the stomach. So I told her I'd have to think about it but really... what's there to think about? Glasses or blind, baby.

I came home to talk to Man about it and started to cry. I have a complex where I have a hard time spending money on myself at all and the extreme guilt of having such an expensive need right when all these other expenses are coming up was too much for my pregnant emotions. Princess was in the room as I explained my feelings to Man, and that sweet girl offered me her allowance if it would help. I hugged her, sat her in my lap, and explained that it wasn't that we don't have money, or that things wouldn't be ok, it's just that I have a problem that I'm still working on that I don't want her to have. I told her how important it is to me to make sure that her needs are met and she shouldn't feel guilty about that, ever, because I love her and I want her to be happy and provided for.

I found a place online that can do my glasses, including prism, for about $100. After that, I found a newish car seat on Craig's list for $20 (used for one baby, no accidents). Then Man came home with an envelope from the Battalion Chaplain. Apparently soldiers with families all got these envelopes filled with gift certificates to the local commissary to ensure that our Thanksgivings would be bountiful.

It looks like God is telling me the same thing that I took great pains to explain to my own precious child. And I wept again.

It reminds me of a few Christmases ago when things were particularly tight. I had just come out of an Aldi (place to buy extremely inexpensive food, for the uninitiated) with our meager supplies and two small children. A man in a van awkwardly approached me and said that his church had purchased several WalMart gift certificates for families in need who they went out into the city to find and felt that God would direct them to the right people. He said that he felt strongly that my family should have one. I cried, thanking him, and felt rich.

Things this year are looking much brighter. A steady income, a larger home than we've ever enjoyed on our own, and so much to be thankful for that I feel like I'm going to bust at the seams. Who am I to weep over my own needs, thinking they are selfish and untimely?

This is another reminder that it all happens at exactly the right time.



Tag gas just come to inform me that I must have a car sticker on my cheek if I want to come into his bedroom. ::sigh:: Darn. Guess I can't put his laundry away or tuck him in at night any more. ;)

Copy cat

I'm going to copy Rachel's post today. Or at least the idea.

Things I'm grateful for:

My husband. We've grown together over the years. I'm proud of him and even far away from family and all of my close friends I feel totally friendful having him here with me.

My children. My little mirrors, my amazing, sweet little teachers. And no, I still can't wrap my head around having a fourth little H in just over a month.

My extended family. Y'all are a hoot and sometimes a holler. Yes, this includes my whole barrel of in-laws. I have more in laws than I have of my own blood kin which continues to amaze and amuse me. I miss all of you, especially around this time of year. I'm terrible at calling... so I'm also grateful for those who are better at it than I am and call anyway.

Our physical needs are met. We have a comfortable home, food, clothing, transportation, community safety, medical care.

Challenges. I'd like to quote my Uncle J: "every day, in every way, it just keeps getting better and better." I'm learning how to work through challenges and leave them behind me... for the most part. ;) And that makes my tomorrow something to look forward to.

The Army. Yes, that big, blasted, bureaucratic Army. The community around me is amazing, diverse, and capable. I have yet to meet a military person and family who doesn't have an interesting story to share. The community resources, the friends that are so easily made, and the common willingness to get the job done quickly and right so there may be much merriment afterward are all inspiring. I will always have a treasured place in my heart for these fine people.

This country. Yes, it has its flaws but it's home. I do have rights and opportunities if I but step up to accept and exercise them.

I'm grateful for peanut butter. Without it, we might starve.
Pink and purple flowers that my Princess adores.
Cars and airplanes that my Tag adores.
"Babies" (soft, stuffed animals) that my Pebbles adores.
Music, the making of, and engineering the listening to, which my Man adores.
I love these things that those dear to me love.

God. He who sustains and guides, redeems and extends mercy. He who loves perfectly.

Yes, I'm grateful for being reminded to be grateful.

What makes you unique

In our children's class every week, when we all get together at the end of our block of meetings, the primary presidency does something called Spotlight. They have all the kids stand up and then they start to read off the mystery child's list of "favorites" and little known facts until there is only one child standing and the mystery person is revealed. It sounds nice and organized on paper, but lot of the kids will stand back up if they like what's being said so there are always several kids left at the end until the name is read.

Anyway, yesterday, the Primary President tried to eliminate everyone else but the one person, declaring that no one else in the room could claim this particular little known fact. Drum roll... this person is the 7th child in her family. lol Three other people raised their hands, including two teachers (one of whom was our very own Man). She was shocked! Wow, that was a lot of people in such HUGE families!!

Gosh, this lady's a Mormon, for Pete's sake. A California Mormon, but a Mormon nonetheless. I personally know dozens of families that have 6 or more children but then again, I did most of my growing up in the Midwest.

Is there something that's shocked you that you find out is actually quite common among your own culture?

I was shocked by the number of Mormons who drink caffeine. Shocked. Oh, well.

Only in California

Princess has a little performance thing at school where the kindergartners get to sing a song on stage. It's a turkey song.

I'll spare you the three verses of nonsense, but basically it's about a turkey who is a child's pet and doesn't want to get eaten, so they have egg foo yung on Thanksgiving rather than eating the poor bird. Poor, poor bird.

I said in front of my kids that it's a good thing that turkeys are so dang ugly. I mean, DANG UGLY. I don't feel bad about eating them at all. That would be the barbarian in me coming out.

I adore that for a while my grandparents had seafood linguine for T-day dinner. It was different, delicious, and kept turkey dinners fresh and delightful. No one got sick of turkey leftovers for 2-3 months afterward. And little seafood creatures are also very ugly. I don't mind eating them either.

Cows are getting into the cute range, but they smell so terrible that once again, I don't mind eating them.

On the other hand, there are things that are too ugly to eat. Fried bugs of any kind (except for sea bugs like shrimp, of course) are totally off my list. So are snails. And what the heck do you do with a geoduck? Oh, and crawfish. Ew.

Are there vegetables that are too ugly to eat? Or fruits? There's actually a fruit called ugli fruit which I've found to be tasty. And the deceptively tomato-looking persimmon which I tasted for the first time at the farmer's market and loved. The Chinese plum doesn't look too bad. It's very small, a little smaller than a roma tomato. I didn't try those. :( I wonder if things start to look more attractive once you know how they taste, kind of like how some people become more attractive the more you get to know them.

Speaking of odd creatures, let's take a quick look at weird mascots. The above mentioned geoduck is actually the mascot for the Evergreen State College in Washington. Their motto is Omnia Extares (or, "let it all hang out"). Hah. UCSC sports the banana slug as its mascot. Then there's the Delta State Fighting Okra (how'd you like to be a cheerleader for them?), University of Arkansas at Monticello has the boll weevil, and North Carolina School of the Arts has the fighting pickles.

Yeah. Weird.