OK, this is just wrong.

Say Anything is 20 years old. TWENTY!

When the hell did I get so old?

Was she trying to be ironic?

I received a package from my mother-in-law yesterday. It was a "Super Mom" t-shirt. She stuck a sticky note on it that said:

[Daughter] gave me this for Mother's Day but it didn't fit. I thought it might fit you better.

I'm just going to ignore the fact that it was a XXL and laugh at the unintended compliment.

Add this to the "Tell me something I don't know" file

As wars lengthen, toll on military families mounts.

Note that they don't mention anything about FRG volunteers. Or how much the Army is relying on said volunteers. *sigh*

The shower scene.

It's not safe for work but if you want to see Ving Rhames dancing his naked butt off to "I'm Every Woman," click here. Totally worth it, especially if you are having a bad day.

I *heart* Ving Rhames.

FRG Crazy

My husband has been given a tentative date for change of command. Even though I know that the plan will change 15 million times before it actually happens, the idea that I will be freed - FREED! - from FRG leadership warms the cockles of my wee Grinch heart.

Because I was so excited about the possibility of passing the baton, I emailed the incoming commander to introduce myself and let him tell me who would be taking my place so I could make the transition as smooth (and fast!) as possible. I just got his reply:

I do not have a wife, so I will be taking recommendations and volunteers for this position.

Shit. Shit shit shickety shickety shit shit shit.

The battalion's senior advisor has already said she would like me to stay on in the role if the new commander doesn't have someone in mind. Many of the women in the FRG have asked that I do so (though I'm sure an equal number would tell me not to let the door hit me on the ass on the way out). And though the FRG has a group of stellar core volunteers, the ones who are fit to lead would refuse if offered. And the ones who would volunteer willingly? Let's just say we've seen enough of their idea of leadership to know it wouldn't work.

So somehow, even after already writing my goodbye note for the newsletter in my head, I'm considering saying I'll stay on. I've been an FRG leader now for over 2 and a half years. I've seen a lot (though soon as I say I've seen it all some spouse ends up surprising me). I'm tired. I think I've had enough. I don't really know what I have left to give these families. But seeing as there aren't any feasible alternatives to replace me, I somehow can't bring myself to leave the families mid-deployment.

What is wrong with me?

I just don't know what to say.

Before CPT Dick deployed, I felt like I was really slacking on the blogging. But hey, what better excuse could I have had? I wanted to spend as much of my free time with him and Munchkin before his departure.

Now I don't have that excuse and yet there's still so much space between entries. I don't know what to say really. I just feel really uninspired. What is there to say that hasn't been said before about these Groundhog Days of deployment?

For me, the best way to get through a deployment is to keep my head down, stick to the routine, stay busy and push on through. And doing that, there's not a lot that is new and different to talk about. I mean, I could talk up how cute my kid is, or how hard it can be late at night to sleep or how I've just decided not to watch CNN anymore, but there seems to be a lack of point to it all. I see no bigger picture to analyze and discuss except that he's gone and I'm doing what I can to deal with it. For both myself and my kid.

Maybe I just need to try a bit harder.

He called.

CPT Dick called last night, after a lull of over 3 weeks. It was just after midnight and Munchkin was sound asleep. But since he's been pretending to call Daddy on his silly little Elmo cel phone for the past few weeks, I couldn't not wake him.

He sleeps like his father. Hard, deep and all over the place. He was out cold but stirred a bit when I shook him and said, "Daddy's on the phone!" He then reached for the phone, put it to his ear, and said, "Hi, Daddy. I sleeping. Love you. Bye bye."

He then handed the phone back and rolled back over into slumber. And I felt terrible for a moment, wondering if CPT Dick would feel sad at such a dismissal. But instead, CPT Dick was pleased as punch.

"Wow. He's really talking," he said. And he is. Not as much as I hoped. But a lot more than he was.

Hopefully, CPT Dick can manage a call during the day sometime soon.

Ving Rhames for the Oscar!

So I'm watching "I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry," which, by most accounts, is not the best movie in the world. But oh my goodness, Ving Rhames nails it. I laughed so hard as he grooved in the shower to "I'm Every Woman," that I lost it.

If you are feeling down, I highly recommend it.

As for me, whenever I need a pick-me-up, you'll hear me start to sing, "Whoa, whoa, whooooo-aa." That's right. It's all in me.

Dear Busybody Spouses:

Why does everyone automatically seem to think I'm going to get knocked up when my husband takes R&R? What makes you think I want a second child? That I could even have a second child? Why am I viewed as so strange when I say CPT Dick and I have no plans to that effect?

Sheesh.

Month 3 of a 15 month deployment. Guess we all need ways to make things a little more interesting. Mine, of course, may be to beat the living shit out of the next person who asks me if I'm going to get busy during R&R.

To date, there has not been one sighting of Swedish fish.

Munchkin and I spent a few days traveling about Sweden. Not for any particular reason. Mainly to find another way to make the time pass.

It was a lovely trip. I highly recommend it. Especially the Junibacken -- a storybook tribute to Astrid Lindgren, complete with Pippi's own Villa Villakulla. It was so much fun.

But seriously. Not one Swedish fish. Unless you count all of the char, which being a Swedish fish purist myself, really do not.