I hate everybody. Again.

This weekend has been fairly crappy.

A few weeks ago, I made a very difficult decision. And that is to step down from the FRG leadership when my husband leaves command. The choice was not made lightly. But ultimately, since we have no idea where CPT/Future MAJ Dick is going next, staying on as FRG leader for the remainder of the deployment might have seemed easier -- at least in the beginning -- but it would not have been best.

For anyone.

Unfortunately, some people see that decision as a betrayal. Several of them having coordinating roles in the FRG. And their response is to try to go all high school on me.

Case in point: We had an event this weekend. I was on point but Mrs. B, an all-star volunteer, said that she would be happy to help set up/organize/host. Even the day before the event, she was still saying she would be there with bells on. She was on it, girl!

But at go time, she was nowhere to be found. No call, no email, no explanation. I called her a few times and couldn't get hold of her on her mobile or her home phone. Then later, after the event, I asked around if anyone had seen her. At that point, honestly, I was a little annoyed but I was mainly concerned. I worried that something had happend with her kids -- or even worse, with her husband.

You could have knocked me over with a feather tonight when she called and read me the riot act for "talking about her behind her back." Being worried should not be my concern. I ain't her mother. If she doesn't want to be somewhere, she don't have to be. She is a volunteer. Her time is her own to do as she pleases. And after all, what do I care? It's not like I care about the FRG anyway.

So, since I've planned an exit, found a replacement and am doing what I can to ensure a seamless transition that will be transparent to these families, it's somehow not all right for me to ask why she said she would help out or why she bailed at the last minute. It is out of place to even think that I deserved an explanation. No matter what, I am in the wrong.

Funny how it all works like that sometimes.

It's lonely at the top.

When you are an officer's wife, one thing is bound to happen at some certain point: A higher ranking officer's wife will remind you to be careful what you say and follow it up with the ol' cliche, "It's lonely at the top."

It's actually very annoying. Mostly because it's so frickin' true.

And I got a real-world lesson in that this week. And what sucks is that I really did think it was someone I could trust.

Bleh.

An update on this week's troubles.

Mrs. X got a good scare. With a little help, she cleaned up her house. She cleaned up her act. She got her kids back as well as a prescription for some serious anti-depressant and anti-anxiety meds.

Sounds like a happy ending, I guess. But I don't feel good about it.

I can't help but think that the services available here -- now stretched thin by wounded soldiers -- can not provide the support that she is going to need moving forward. And there's only so much the FRG and her neighbors can do. She received a lot of help this week. It can't go on indefinitely.

So here's hoping that we don't find ourselves in the same boat with Mrs. X in 10 weeks. Or worse, that we hear from Mrs. X again after something happens to her or one of her kids.

Suddenly, I don't feel so bad about the state of my house.

Last night, I got a phone call in the wee hours of the morning. The MPs had been called on one of our FRG's families. Not for a loud party, illegally parked car or a fight. Nope. Because of the smell.

This spouse, I'll call her Mrs. X for brevity's sake, had not cleaned her house since the soldiers deployed. She has two kids, both in diapers. She has not done laundry, taken out the trash or disposed of a single dirty diaper in nearly four months. She has not cooked either, opting to bring home take-out and leave the leftovers out on the furniture and floors to breed maggots and attract vermin. And she and her children somehow have lived in this mess for all that time.

When I arrived this morning, after the children had been removed from the premises, Mrs. X and a group of volunteers had been cleaning for nearly 10 hours. But I still found myself knee deep in garbage. The walls were covered with brown stains of unknown origin. The entire refrigerator door was writhing in maggots. There was a dead rat in the bathroom cupboard. By the time I left, more than 40 industrial-sized garbage bags had been filled and carried to the dumpster.

I have no idea how someone, let alone someone with young kids, managed to let things go like this. When I asked Mrs. X, she said that she just didn't realize so much time had passed. That it didn't seem that bad from the inside.

The worst part about all of this is that Mrs. X did not seem like that kind of person we'd have to worry about. She comes to meetings. She comes to events. She has a group of several friends that she sees regularly. She calls when she needs information about the Nurse's hotline or where to get a new ration card.

It makes me wonder who else I should be worrying about. And that pile of clutter on my dining room table? Is that the start of something more sinister?

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?

Mistakes I will never make again.

Mistake #1: Not having a shitload of wine in the house before making the call-out to inform our spouses that we lost two of our community's soldiers.

Mistake #2: Deciding to watch a movie since I couldn't sleep afterwards. And throwing in my newest Netflix. Which just happened to be "Grace is Gone."

Stage 5 Clinger.

Yep, I have one. My very own FRG groupie.

She calls about 6 times a day. She then proceeds to tell me about every second of her life, even if she already went through the bulk of it when she called two hours earlier. Then she calls again because she forgot something. And worse, it's clear from our conversations that she has some mental health issues.

I'm all about supporting spouses and being open to folks calling when they need something. But is the implicit meaning that I'm going to be someone's new best friend? That I'm the person they should be calling to vent about how long it takes macaroni to boil? I don't think so.

I have no idea how to gracefully extricate myself. Bleh.

Nothing like that first drunk phone call in the middle of the night.

As FRG leader, you are prepared for calls. You are. You know that people are going to call to complain about X, bitch about Y and cry some about Z.

But no matter how much experience or training you have, that first sobbing phone calls that comes in the wee hours still catches you off-guard.

I've now had mine. She had gone out to the bars. He called while she was out. She came home drunk to a sad message from her husband saying that he couldn't get her on her mobile either and that he wasn't sure when he'd get to a phone again.

So she called me crying. And ready to tell me all about it.

While I can certainly relate -- I've missed more than a few calls from CPT Dick during all of our deployments for one stupid reason or another -- I'm not sure why she felt it merited a call to her FRG leader at 2:00am. But she did. It's the FRG equivalent of drunk dialing. And like the other forms of that particular disease, it is almost impossible to get those people off the phone.

Hopefully, I'll be better prepared next weekend.

Oh vey.

And so it begins.

Our FRG (family readiness group for you, Just Laura -- the new Army-official version of the family support group) has a new member. Well, sort of.

A new guy has joined the unit. He's kind of high up. His wife, after a few days in country, decided it was time for a new world order. She held a coffee for all of the wives whose husbands work for her husband and told them that they should come to her with all issues and problems. They should not, under any circumstance, contact the FRG, attend meetings or keep up with their FRG point of contact. The FRG could not help them. She could. Basically, she informed them that there is a new sheriff and people better get used to it or get the fuck out of town.

Honestly, where do people come up with this shit? How can they think for a second that it is a good idea?

So I spent my day calling a lot of really upset ladies to inform them that, no, we didn't kick them out of the FRG. No, there isn't a new pecking order. And yes, this new woman is off her fucking rocker. And since she won't take my calls, I now have to go visit Mrs. Newbie this weekend or get my husband, the guy in charge of the FRG, to ask her husband to straighten her out. Not a fun prospect either way, really.

Why exactly did I sign up for this shit?

Pouring on the crazy.

We're heading up to the home stretch before the deployment and it is amazing to watch what's happening. For one, there is a huge group of folks that want to leave. And they want to leave now (though they won't submit their paperwork to go home until the guys leave because the rumor that the deployment will be canceled is still going strong).

But it's hard to watch, especially as an FRG leader. The ladies who really should head back to the states for family support (and appropriate psychiatric care) won't even consider the prospect and several pillars of our community are already packing out. I'm sad to see so many good people go. And even sadder to see so many not so good people stay because I know that I will be hearing from them regularly. And really, no matter what they may think, there is nothing that an FRG can do that comes close to actually taking your daily Lithium dose.

I'm not sure what to expect but I am bracing for the worst.

Back in the saddle.

We're back and right back in the middle of the FRG crazy.

Our unit has been given their orders. We know when they are leaving for Iraq. And the response to this -- you know, this thing that we've all known was coming for ages -- has been no less than completely off-the-wall.

We have suicide threats, child neglect, faked injuries and all kinds of other random nonsense. I understand the the official order makes this all real but I guess I can't quite grok why it makes it so different than what was happening before.

Maybe I'm just naive.

Tired.

I am bone tired of people expecting me to wave some magic FRG wand and get them help when they won't lift a finger to do anything for themselves.

I just don't understand why people refuse to plan for "what if's" and then expect the FRG to clean up their mess. Case in point, the soldiers were in the field. We had one spouse that was in a car accident and really messed up her arm and back. She has three kids under 4 years including a 5 month old. She couldn't really take care of them or pick them up. So she wanted her husband home.

And you know? The guys were training in country, it was close enough to the Thanksgiving break, so we got him home. And in the couple days before he got back, we got her some help with the kids and brought her a few meals.

But when I called her recently to check up on her, I mentioned that we didn't have an emergency plan in place for her and why didn't I come over to bring the forms to her? I suggested that she and her husband could discuss what they might need if this ever happened again, who they feel comfortable watching her kids, etc. And I told her that I'd also bring her some information about childcare options in the community and other information for the future. 'Cause you know, when the guys are in Iraq, the likelihood of her husband being able to come home is not that high. I said it was probably wise to think of this of the accident as a practice run. What if it had happened when the guys were deployed? It's always better to be prepared.

Do you know what she did then? She yelled at me! She said no one watches her kids but her and that the Army needs to keep its promises about taking care of families. If she needs her husband home, that should be all it takes to get him there. She told me I could take my emergency plan form and shove it up my ass (literally). Apparently, she has also been rather unkind to some of the ladies who helped her prior to her soldier's return. She told all of her neighbors that the meals made for her "sucked" (and of course, it was brought by one of her other neighbors) and complained about the way others watched her kids.

Note that this was a totally different attitude from before -- when I was arranging help and assisting her with the Red Cross message, she was real sweet. And I can't help but shake my head because if she had filled out her stupid emergency forms, she'd be able to tell us who she wanted to watch her kids. Heck, there is even a space on it to write down food preferences and allergies, so she could have gotten a meal more palatable to her personal taste. But why bother? She got her husband home. Who needs the FRG after that?

Although she might. Her husband will be returning to the field with the others for the second half of the training exercise. Should make for some interesting phone calls.

How do you explain?

How do you explain to a seriously upset wife that her ingrown toenail surgery, though certainly gruesome sounding, is not the life and death situation that she makes it out to be? Seriously?

FRG leaders, problem solvers extraordinaire.

"I'm having a serious problem with my neighbor. I'm afraid it might escalate so I wanted to let you know about it."

"Ummmm...okay. What's going on?"

"Well, it was her turn to mow the lawn. She did it last night and she got mown grass all over the front of my freshly detailed Durango. I saw it this morning and marched right up to tell her to clean it off before lunch."

"Well, I'm sure that she probably didn't mean to..."

"I was nice when I asked her, too. I mean, firm -- she had to know that it was her responsibility to clean up her own mess -- but nice. But even being nice, she didn't clean it up. Can you believe it?"

"Well, err, again, I'm sure she probably didn't mean..."

"Well, after waiting, I took the bag of grass clippings that she left by the dumpster and dumped them in front of her door."

"You did what?!"

"And you know what that bitch did? She took the trash -- the GARBAGE -- and emptied it in front of my door. Can you believe that shit? I mean, how trashy can you get? I have kids, you know. I should not have to be subjected to this kind of stuff."

Ugh.

As FRG leader, I have to attend a lot of meetings. Steering Committee meetings. Hospitality meetings. Spouses meetings. Army Community Service meetings.

But now, adding to those meetings, we are now in crazy training season. Child care training. Point of contact training. FRG leader training. Army Family Team Building training. CARE Team training. Food handler training.

I find myself overwhelmed and wondering if I really have to attend a food handler's training. I mean, seriously? Wouldn't my waitressing days have prepared me enough for selling cupcakes outside the commissary? You'd think, right? But apparently not. If I intend to sell brownies or even have potluck FRG meetings, I need to spend an hour being reminded to wash my hands.

*sigh*

Zapped by the good idea fairy.

You know when you are in a meeting to plan some activity or event and instead of focusing on the task at hand, the people in the room start suggesting good ideas? You know, echelons-above-reality type ideas that would be really great but such a pain in the ass to implement? And those ideas -- though, great, really! -- totally take away from the whole point of the meeting which is to simplify that original activity or event by delegating pieces to make actually possible to go away and implement?

You know what I'm talking about? It's what my husband calls "attack of the good idea fairy." And I sat through 3 hours of it today as we attempted to plan what should have been a totally mundane bake sale.

Somehow, the simple act of discussing what kind of baked goods to assign to each group became a discussion of the potential of helium balloon sales, cookie decoration contests, funnel cake machines and a doggie and/or child dress-up parade (you know, because we don't want to put off those without kids). I know there was more inanity but honestly, I started zoning out when someone had to talk about the Darth Vader costume they had for their Westie. Otherwise, I think I might have gone postal and beaten someone to death with their fundraising idea book.

I tried to rein folks in. I did. I pointed out that with limited time, it would probably be better to focus our efforts on excelling in one task than stretching ourselves and doing a shoddy job of several. But it was too late. The good idea fairy had tapped my compatriots with her magic wand, leaving them with visions of balloon animals and face painting dancing in their heads. And frankly, any argument made up of reason stood no chance.

There are days when I really, really wonder what I'm doing in the FRG.

Another rant.

What happened to the sense of personal accountability and responsibility? Seriously?

My start as FRG leader has not been a great one. Outside of the leader hand-off drama and the accompanying smackdown, my short tenure has been marked by ladies who believe my job is to pick up their slack when they make mistakes or decide not to bother to take care of their own business. A few examples:

(1) We have a wife who is in the states. Her husband was in another unit OCONUS and thought he'd be headed stateside. So he sent her back early on the Army's dime. And he did so against the advice of his command.

So what's now happened? She wants to come back and be with her husband. But she can't afford to move back here or live here on her own dime. So she wants to reneg on the agreement that her family made with the Army and make the Army pay for her to come back and provide her housing, all the while complaining about how the Army has let her down and doesn't care about families. And she's spouting this line to any and everyone who will listen.

But the best part? She's already managed to do this once. He was stationed overseas before and she choose to return early and then found a way to get back courtesy of Uncle Sam. It just pisses me off. We have so many wives who are doing the right thing, who are going through the long process of command sponsorship now made even longer by the Army's transformation. And now they probably have to wait even a few days more since the powers-that-be have to listen to this chick whine. Again.

(2) Our unit has a ton of pregnant ladies right now. And I know they've been briefed on family care plans. I know this because I could probably do the family care planning spiel in my sleep and I'm not pregnant. But still, we have a bunch of ladies who are about to pop who are only now coming forward and saying, "I want my husband to come home. I don't have anyone here to watch my kids when I go into labor."

Now, my civilian friends who are pregnant have two or three back-up plans and they only have to worry about their husbands maybe losing mobile phone reception for 10 minutes a day on the freeway. My one friend, L., has a list of no less than 6 numbers to call both in her wallet and taped on her refrigerator at home in the case that she goes into labor and is unable to make the calls herself. She jokes that she would tattoo all of those numbers on to her body, you know, if they weren't so wacky about pregnant chicks getting inked.

She's that serious about making sure that there is someone that she trusts there to watch her older daughters when it comes time to push. I wouldn't expect anything less.

This is your pregnancy. These are your children. Why would you not make sure that you had a family care plan in place so you could concentrate on popping that baby out in peace? And you are a military spouse, why would you ever assume that your husband would definitely be home? These are the most important points.

But then, if you are going to ask me for help, why on earth would you curse me out when I try to explain that I cannot guarantee that your husband can come home -- that is a chain of command issue -- and that you need a back-up plan at the very least for labor because I'm assuming that if your husband can come home, you won't be having all four of your other kids in the delivery room, too?

(3) And finally, we had to set up an AER loan for a family of 5 that had no money in their bank account. Not a dime. But when I stopped by today to make sure that the AER was taken care of? Mrs. Spendy couldn't help but tell me all about the two Persian kittens that they *had* to get for their girls for $700 a pop. $1400 for kittens! I just about had kittens when she told me.

I don't know. I know that my heartstrings should be pulled when I read a story like the one that GBear posted on SpouseBuzz, but after doing the FRG thing for so many years, all I see are the inconsistencies in the story and the ways that this family probably did not follow advice or regulations. I see it every day. Now, that's not to say that the military doesn't make mistakes. It does. And when the Man messes up, believe you me, I will be the first one up there making a stink.

But people need to remember that God (and the Army) helps those that help themselves.

Smackdown complete.

My meeting with the outgoing crazy FRG leader happened today. With the full weight of the battalion's family readiness leadership behind me, no less.

It went about as well as could be expected. I was in total corporate mindfuck mode -- you know, I buttered her up about what a great job she did, asked her how I could make the transition smoother for her, let her tell me how she wanted information to flow up and down the structure, etc. And then when she got all comfortable, BAM!, I explained that (a) a POC needs to be reachable and (b) she needed to feed information about meetings and issues up the FRG chain. Non-negotiable. Period. The end.

She hemmed and hawed a bit, said she worked, she was busy, her husband didn't give her messages, she handled the issues herself and didn't need to tell us, she didn't reply to emails unless she was specifically asked to. Yadda, yadda, yadda.

And, of course, she threw a helluva lot of blame on her old co-leader. It was a classy touch that made her look incredibly foolish in front of the leadership.

But ultimately, it looks like even if she doesn't like it, she at least understands that things are going to change around here. Of course, exactly how remains to be seen.

This should get interesting.

Save the drama for yo' Mama.

As I said in past post, CPT Dick wrangled me into FRG leadership again. I am taking over from two co-leaders whose families are remaining with the company. Not the best of circumstances.

There had been some concern that one of the two ladies would take the transition badly. She loves, loves, loves being an FRG leader and it was unclear whether or not she would feel that she was being usurped out of her rightful place. And if so, what would her reaction be? Most believed that she would decide to take her phone tree and head home. But she and I chatted on the phone before I left our last duty station and she said would take a key role within the FRG. And so it seemed all was good.

Until I got here, that is.

Now, the woman will not return my phone calls or emails. Which, considering she is a POC for the phone tree is a little disheartening. She calls the other former co-leader and asks her to call me to tell me the mundane shit ever. Last night, she rang her at 11:00pm to ask her to call me to see whether or not I was going to bring cups to the next FRG meeting. Cups! When I see her in public, she snubs me.

And the best part? She announced to all of the key volunteers for the company that though I was leader in name, nothing would change. She would make sure that she was getting information from the battalion and disseminate it. I guess she figures that if she pretends I am not here, I will just go away.

Drama, drama, drama. What I would like to ask her is how she figures she will get information from the company commander -- you know, my husband -- when they deploy if I don't exist. But perhaps she's flexible enough to acknowledge my existence when information is going down the FRG chain.

So it's time for a little FRG smackdown. I gave it a couple weeks, gave her ample opportunity to make a little room for me but now things are going to get a little ugly.

Why couldn't she had staged the power coup after I was a little more settled? I swear, the absolute inconsideration of it all.

Talking the talk.

In preparation for taking on my second FRG, I've signed up for a one-day refresher course on the in's and out's of the position. And by signed up, I mean that I was signed up by the battalion Commander's wife as a favor and now have to pretend to be grateful. Yippee!

I'm sure that some of the material will be helpful. And Lord knows, the Army is sort of learning as they go with the whole FRG thing so I'm sure there will be a whole new list of things not to do that I should know about. It won't be a total waste of my time and it will give me the opportunity to meet some ladies and get to know the environment.

But I digress.

In preparation, the instructor of the course, the wife of a pretty up there Officer, sent out an email to provide an agenda for the day.

But in that email, after the salutations and niceties, instead of getting down to business, she says this:

The most important thing you should know about me is that I am a Christian.

She then expounds for a few more sentences on having the light of Jesus in her life before moving on to actual pertinent matters.

What the hell? This is an FRG refresher. Not a chapel meeting.

It seems that more and more, especially around the military, people think it is appropriate in a professional setting to start off by stating their strong religious beliefs. It is not. In no other organization or industry (barring, of course, a specifically stated religious one) is it ever apropos to do so. And you would think, in the military, an organization attracts so many people of different backgrounds, ethnicities and religions, people might stop and wonder if they could potentially put off someone by stating their religious fervor right upfront like that. But they don't. And it's becoming more and more commonplace.

I read a recent quote by Hillary Clinton where she said that she had been raised to be somewhat wary of people who wear their faith on their sleeve. I have to agree. It's a New England thing, I think, but it was always considered polite to keep matters of faith and business separate. And again, given the diversity of the world, I can't say it's a bad thing.

Now, I've met a lot of really devout Christians who are wonderful, caring people. But NONE of them told me their religious beliefs as an introduction. It's something that came out naturally through the course of other conversation. People who just slap you with it first thing make me uncomfortable. And I'm not afraid it's to say that it's because, too often, the ones who are so busy talking the talk aren't bothering to walk the walk. I feel sometimes that they believe if they say they are Christian often and loud enough, then they are exempt from having to actually act like one.

I don't know what this meeting will hold. I'm trying to withhold judgment until I get there. But if it was the instructor's intention to make everyone feel more comfortable by sharing her devotion, she missed the mark a bit.