All of a sudden, I'm really glad that CPT Dick is going to Iraq.

Because, after all, it could be the Korengal Valley in Afghanistan. I just read an interesting and heartbreaking article about the state of things there in the New York Times Sunday Magazine.

Failure.

I'm not so good at failure.

I don't know if I mentioned it but I applied for an academic fellowship a few months ago at a fairly esteemed school in England. Honestly, I sort of applied on a lark. The fellowship was for mid-career journalists and I just barely met the eligibility requirements. I figured I'd be dismissed right off the bat.

But I wasn't. I was selected as a finalist and flown to England to interview. And that got my hopes up. Way, way up.

You know, as military wives, no matter how prolific a career or education we had before marriage, just by nature of the beast, so much of our lives becomes about our husbands. I know I've fought such a thing tooth and nail and yet here I am, living in this tiny corner of Germany, raising our child, leading my husband's FRG, volunteering my time for his unit, attending all of his events. There's not much time for my stuff. And what time there is, isn't very glamorous. I can't remember the last time I achieved something that was all about me. So you know, the idea of having my own thing, something new and different, something to do during the deployment, and, yes, I admit it, something prestigious, was so damn appealing.

But I found out yesterday that I didn't get it. It was a kind rejection. It encouraged me to apply again after gaining more experience. And you know, maybe I will. But right now, this news mixed with the looming deployment makes me wonder if I'm doing enough for *me* on a regular basis.

I don't know the answer.

I'm not sure which is more annoying...

...the continued Britney coverage, the nude photos of Lindsay Lohan as Marilyn Monroe, or the fact that Mike Huckabee won't take the hint.

Chuck Norris needs to talk to him.

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.

What a way to start the week.

"Uh, honey? You may want not want to use that bathroom."

"Dare I ask why not?"

"The seat pinches."

"What are you talking about?"

"I broke the toilet seat yesterday and now when you sit down the crack will pinch your skin."

"How the hell did you break a toilet seat?"

"I guess I just don't know my own strength."

The other problem with freelancing.

As everyone else I know has already received their tax refund and is finding creative ways to spend it, I am finishing up our taxes. We owe. A lot.

That's the problem with running your own business. When you do well, so does Uncle Sam. *sigh*

Give me a sick kid any day.

A few weeks ago, Munchkin had a stomach flu. He came, he saw, he puked on just about every surface in the house. But he was generally pretty happy and remembered to say "please" when asking for juice.

But yesterday, my husband had his wisdom teeth removed. Since then, he has lain around in a stupor and made it a point to tell me how miserable he is when I walk by. You know, right after he asks me to get him something, clean up something or fluff his goddamn pillow.

A few hours ago, I had to run out the door to get Munchkin to his therapy appointment. And so I asked my ailing husband to change the laundry. You would have thought I was asking him to run the Boston Marathon. He pouted, he whined, he reminded me of how much pain he was in.

I frickin' did the laundry a few days after I gave birth. I have no pity for him at all.

Can I ask a question?

Why the hell is CNN so much more interested in what Britney Spears is doing (which, by the way, pretty much consists of going to Starbucks, driving around and showing her hoo-ha) than in the actual issues that the potential presidential candidates are advocating?

Anyone? Anyone?

Back in the saddle.

It's been a while. Again. I appear to be an inconstant blog presence.

But I took some time away from my laptop to hug my kid a lot. To go on pre-deployment leave with my family. To read a book. And to try to make a dent in this never ending pile of boy laundry. Your normal stuff. But forgive me -- I ought not have left without even a "by your leave."

It won't happen again.

Mother-in-law, your name is passive-aggressive.

"So I had lunch with L.S. today. You know her."

"Ummm, L.S.?"

"Yes, she's married to N.S. You know her. She wore a green sweater to your engagement party."

"Ummmm..."

"She was one of my bridesmaids. You know her, you do."

"Okay. Was it a nice lunch?"

"Well, we had to cut it short. She's having family problems."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Her daughter and grandson moved back home. The daughter is going through an ugly divorce. Had a great husband -- lawyer or some such -- but she's just one of these cold women. More interested in her career than anything else and then couldn't hack it when her son came along."

"Oh, that's too bad. I hope that things get better."

"Well, L. can't leave them alone too long. You'd think the problem would be with the boy, that he'd have trouble adjusting. But no, not at all, it's the daughter. She's addicted to the Internet."

"What?"

"Yes, she neglects her son. He's two and he's barely speaking. He's always in front of the television. And all so the daughter can chat with people on the Internet. It's just disgraceful. Thank God L. is there to help make sure that her grandson is taken care of."