You Can Call it a Comeback

So many things have happened since last I posted.

I went to Georgia (and got to see some dear friends).
I went to Germany (and got to see almost none of it).
I broke my toe (the same one I broke last year).
I went trick-or-treating (with no parenthetical comment).

And that’s not really the half of it. I even neglected some things I e-mailed myself to blog about.

Waiting on the World to Change:

This song came out in August of 06. We were still at war (as we still are), and there was a lot of dissatisfaction about where the country was heading. Though it is a lovely song, it has always bothered (and somewhat irritated) me. The main theme is that the youth of today are unhappy, and feel they lack the power to effect the change they wish to see, so they will wait for the world to see things their way. I understand the feeling, honestly, but what kind of message is that? “This kinda sucks. Let’s just hang around; it’s bound to get better.” In the 1960s, blacks did not have the power to effect change. So, they did what they had to do to make things better. It hurt. It wasn’t pleasant. But it changed things – it made them better. No change has ever happened by itself. Nothing gets better without people standing up and making it better. If it sucks, fix it. It’s often not easy, and usually not fun; but if you really want change, you sacrifice for it.

This also touches a bit on something I’ve seen talked about in a few places. The proliferation of events to raise awareness for one thing or another. This isn’t a bad thing in and of itself. Sooner or later, though, I have to ask “doesn’t everyone already know?!” Raising money for research, or to combat a disease/situation seems like a much more reasonable course of action. Reminding me that breast cancer exists doesn’t help anyone with breast cancer. Letting me know that 1 in 110 kids are on the Autism scale doesn’t help figure out what causes it. Doctors and scientists help, when they have the resources to do so. If you want to call attention to a problem, do so in a way that makes a difference.

Finally, though it’s not Thanksgiving yet, I’ve been inspired by an Angel, who’s posting something she’s thankful for every single day this month. I’m not so prolific, so I will do so every week.

I am thankful for the love of my family: the family I was born into, the family that has come to me, and the family that has no legal or blood tie but is family nonetheless. It may be a cop-out, but it’s the honest truth. There are so many people that could have just shut the door, could have let the bond wither and die as years and miles come between us, but didn’t. It warms my soul that I can talk to people who’ve known me almost as long as I have – whom I’ve not seen in longer than my kids have been alive – and still they share my joy and my sorrow (and I theirs). It brings tears to my eyes when I think that my wife’s family, who could have turned their backs on us and decided that I was not who they thought she should be with, greeted me with open arms and made me welcome in their homes and family. It brightens my life every time I pick up my boys and they run to me saying “Daddy!” or I see my wife and she smiles and draws me in for a tender embrace. You are all reasons my life is so wonderful.

Some stuff happened

Let's see. I went to Korea for a little over a week. The unit there will be inspected next year, so we took a team to look at their stuff and give them an idea of what they needed to fix in that time frame. I have decided that the best way to visit Korea is for one week. Get to come in, eat at all the good restaurants, visit some folks, buy some stuff, go out to some bars/clubs, and go home. Beautiful.

Then yesterday, I attended Warrior Challenge 2010. Didn't really compete, but I ran the 5K at the beginning. Didn't feel too bad. Unfortunately, the whole day took place outside, and I wore no sunscreen. So, today I am - shall we say - a little warm.

My Superintendent (and good friend) deployed with a 10-day notice. Though it sounds harsh, it was the better of two alternatives. He could have taken a later deployment, but his new wife (they've been together for a long time) has just been diagnosed with pregnancy. This shorter-notice deployment will have him back for the baby (and the holidays, too). On Tuesday, our boss is leaving. She's headed to my old stomping grounds to direct operations with an AFSOC unit (pretty sweet for her).

Saundra got orders...to the unit in Norfolk she was stationed at when we first got here. That delays the departure we've been trying to implement for another three years. Gol durnit.

Our washer died with extreme prejudice a couple days ago, and our new one will be delivered tomorrow. It's been an interesting few weeks. With luck, we can swing a boring few weeks in here soon.

I < 3 U

Valentine's Day came and went. I surprised Saundra by ordering something (though it hasn't arrived yet), so she went and one-upped me yet again, ordering for me the 5 cookbooks that Alton Brown says you must own. Even though she ordered days after I did, 3 of the 5 have arrived already, while her present wallows somewhere in the USPS.

Anyway, the boys had a good time on Friday - giving and receiving cards. When Saundra came home from work on Sunday, she brought them little heart-shaped tins with candy. She also brought me yet another gift - a stuffed frog holding a heart that reads "Love You."

All my love to all of you.

More stuff of newness

So, it's been an interesting couple of weeks. We here in Southern Virginia got snow of the type that only hits here once every few years. And we're likely to get more tonight/tomorrow. That's almost unheard of here.

There was some concern about my Master Sergeant stripe. After breaking my foot, I had a PT test. The waiver I got from the doctor (because of my foot and for the recovery) said I couldn't do any PT, but that means I get tested on my waist measurement alone - a guarantee of failure. After the failure, I am informed that 1) I can't sew on my stripe with a failed PT test, 2) my upcoming EPR will be a 4 (of 5) at best with a failed PT test, and 3) I can write a note saying that I want to ignore parts of my waiver if I don't do myself bodily harm.

So, I write my little memo, work hard to ensure that my push-ups and sit-ups are up and good. My promotion is supposed to be at 9 AM on Monday, Feb 1st. The very first day I am allowed to test is Friday, Jan 29th. My EPR is due Monday, Feb 15th. With a lot riding on it, I test on Friday morning and crush it. Not only did I easily max out my push-ups and sit-ups, but with the PT I was doing (screw the waiver), I lost an entire inch on my waist. So, I'm good to promote on time. (Whew!)

The very next day commences the freak snowfall I mentioned all the way back in paragraph 1. Though you may scoff in Denver, this snowfall shuts down everything for the entire weekend. Ryan's school didn't open until Thursday. So, Sunday night, I get a call from my boss saying to show up at 10 on Monday and in ABUs (cammies) instead of Blues (service uniform). Now, the week prior, knowing that Monday is blues day, I realized that I wouldn't need stripes on my ABUs until Tuesday, so I picked up my new blues on Friday and wasn't scheduled to pick up the ABUs until Monday evening. This new iteration from the snow is a double whammy for me. Not only does it mean that I'm showing for work an hour after my ceremony, but in a uniform without proper stripes!

We decide to play it by ear on the time (which then turned out to be "delay until tomorrow"), and I'd stop by alterations and beg them to do them a few hours early..."like right now?"

Everything worked all right, and I spent a lot of time at home with the kids (due to the aforementioned school closure), but it was a really wierd week.

Oh, and Tristan made me sad and proud the other night. I was cooking some chicken stroganov for dinner, and he wanted to help. I let him stand on a chair nearby and was gonna have him do some pouring and whatnot when the time came. Unfortunately, shortly after I moved the wok with oil on the bottom (for searing the chicken pieces), he decided to check the oil temp...with his finger. Too fast for me to react, he burned his finger nicely. We got it under running water, got a cup of ice water for him to rest it in, and Saundra tried to get him settled on the couch. He got very upset and insisted that he still wanted to help me cook. I had to fight off the proud-papa "he's gonna be a chef" syndrome, but continued to be proud of my brave boy.

I think that's it for this installment of Musty Piece Theater. Tune in next time for more...uh...frenzied recitation of a bizarrely normal life? (And don't forget to Save the Babies!)

Anti-VD...

But all for Valentine's Day.

Yesterday was Valentine's Day, which makes me a little sad, 'cause my Valentine is roughly 14,000 miles away. At work, the day before, there was much singing-candy-gram-delivering. That was fun...listening to the songs (in beautiful harmony, no less) and the embarrassed shrieks of red-faced recipients. They even sold (and I bought) some anti-Valentine's baked goods which were pretty funny (and tasty).

I got, for my Sweetie and me, a matching set of T-shirts from Think Geek. They each have 6 hearts across the chest, Zelda style. When the shirts are within about a meter of each other, all six hearts will be illuminated (with the help of some batteries). When they are not, only 2.5 of them will be. I had her open hers early, so I could watch and tell her (as she realized what it was) "I'm never at full health without you." (I'm a dork, whatever.)

I'd like to post a picture, but at the moment, I have no AAA batteries, so no lightie-uppie. Meh...I'll get there.

Hope you all enjoyed the day, whether it was special for you or not.

I'm Home!

I finally made it home. It was an interesting trip. My 1 hour layover in Tokyo turned into a 5 hour layover in Tokyo which would have been fine except that it took my 5 hour layover in Dallas and turned it into a 1 hour layover. That's 60 minutes to get off the plane, get my luggage, go through Customs, recheck my luggage, get back through security, find my gate and get on the next plane. I managed, but I did a lot of running (anyone remember OJ Simpson commercials?). Not an experience I recommend to anyone.

I would just like to state, for the record, that the Universe is beautiful. As we flew from Korea to get to Tokyo, I looked out and saw the mountainous countryside of Korea. Just gorgeous. Then, after Tokyo, as we crossed the North Pacific in the dark, I look out the window to see the clouds spread as a giant carpet beneath us and the stars twinkling above. I almost didn't recognize the big dipper because there were so many other stars in and around it.

I had a real good samaritan moment while checking in at Tokyo. I had to go to a desk to trade my JAL boarding passes for American Airlines boarding passes. As I waited for the necessary 137 keystrokes, a young Korean man came up to do the same at the counter next to me. It was a difficult process. A Japanese woman speaking English to a Korean man who obviously understood perhaps one word in ten. At one point, she was trying to get his baggage claim stickers, but he had no idea what she was talking about. I quietly asked the woman helping me for my baggage stickers and showed them to him. He quickly grasped the situation and they concluded. It gave me that familiar warm feeling of goodness. Makes me happy to be able to do things like that.

Ages passed, and I finally arrived in Norfolk. My sons had not been told that I was coming home, so they were bored and impatient waiting in the airport. And then down the hallway I come. We all see each other; they run to me; I pick them both up and finish my journey to my loving wife. Life is good. The universe is beautiful.

My Pedigree

Before leaving the States, I started researching my family tree (at Ancestry.com). It's really kind of fun, following the chain of names into the past. You notice all sorts of interesting data in your searches. Looking at census data, I find that my great-grandfather had 19 year-old Danish women as servants twice. My grandfather's grandmother was a widowed mother of 8 children by the year 1910.

The search can be frustrating, too. When you're looking for someone with a fairly common name, there can be hundreds of records and no way to tell which one(s) apply.

All in all, I've found it fascinating. Mapping out the major relationship events of a family member that died a hundred years ago intrigues me. How might I have lived in their shoes? How did their experiences shape who I am today? How will my experiences change, knowing what I've learned?

Good Times

Yesterday, I got to spend time with my dad, my brother, and their wives. I think it was the best time I've had in a long time. Even telling my brother to stop trying to get my son arrested was fun. We didn't have time to do much. Waited a couple hours for food; toured the USS Constellation in Baltimore Harbor; then it was time to run home. But still, when you only see family once every few years, those visits - however fleeting - are precious. I think perhaps the neatest moments for me were when the 3 of us sat in our own little bubble of existence geeking out with each other about cameras and the trouble that YouTube and Firefox seem to have with each other. (Can you believe Kevin didn't know that this video existed?)

Playing Catch-Up

I have been seriously falling down on my blogging duties. So much has happened.

Son the Elder is 6 now; Son the Younger is 2. (Yes, their birthdays are that close together.) My mom got a year older (Happy B-day Wabbitt!) I passed my 14th year in the USAF, and my 4th year at this blog (really that long?). My office moved. I did an Adopt-a-Spot and got sunburned. I have gotten Saundra to 3 karaoke nights (in a row, no less). I realized that Wil Wheaton Twitters, so I'm following him. I've played tons of Bully. Our gaming group has died, but I'm resurrecting it one player at a time in Hellgate: London.

And I'm less than 2 weeks from Marching for Babies and I haven't gotten a single sponsor. D'oh!

See you in another month! (No really, I'll try to be more punctual.)

What, already?

My son went to kindergarten for the first time yesterday. It was a little scary; a little emotional; a little traumatic. Of course, he didn't notice any of that. As always, he was a little ball of confidence: as sure of himself as he is of the sun.

He has a homework folder that stays in his backpack. Thus far, he's had a certificate proclaiming a great 1st day and a Scholastic book order form. I remember the Scholastic form from my days in the low-numbered grades. Nothing brought such craving and lust for "things" like the Scholastic form. I always wanted at least 75% of the stuff they were selling, but had to settle for the few we could manage. Always disappointed, but always satisfied, too. I always got some great story, some new world to escape into.

Now, as a parent, I see the order form. I look at the prices almost before I look at the titles. I remember growing up and vow that he will grow up the same way. Disappointment, but satisfaction, too.

Happy Birthday!

I'm 1!

5? No way!

Today, Ryan turned 5. That's way more than it was supposed to be; I'd swear it. Cool when your birthday falls on Friday. He got a new soccer ball (which he did look at for a minute), a Spiderman watch (that he got to pick out himself), and a Cars game for his V-Smile game system (which has consumed him since he got it). It was a pretty exciting day, and he's even staying up late.

Wow, we forgot to get out the ice-cream cake. Oh well, tomorrow's another day.

I hate 'The Crud.'

You know what's worse than vomiting for 5 days? Watching your infant son vomit for 5 days. I mean, even with the (almost) 5 year old, he gets it. He can understand, "I'm sick; I'm throwing up; this too shall pass." With the baby (well, almost toddler, whatever), there is no understanding. He just throws up and cries. Not to mention, he can't run for the bathroom. Just heave on the carpet, bedding, towel, or parent, depending on what's available.

But now it's over, until another of us gets it. But if we get it, at least we'll get it.

--Beav

May 2007 bring us more good news than bad

I guess I should post about the New Year, and maybe update everyone about the past few holiday weeks.

Let's see. Our Anniversary (the 24th) went well. I surprised Saundra with a new ring (which she promptly took around to show off). She got me a beautiful valet; wood with a leather finish and a nice brass monogram plate on the front (so now I show it off for you). It replaced the cardboard software tray that I had been using for all my "pocket stuff." We spent some time being close, drained a bottle of fake wine, and started setting up Santa Stuff for the morning. Santa gets the boys everything we don't want to wrap. If it's in a nice box, we got it. If it's got things sticking out and weird misshapen doohickeys...well, Santa doesn't have to wrap.

Christmas morning does nicely. The kids enjoy their gifts; heck Ryan can't keep his hands off Tristan's gifts. What is it about infant toys that are so universally appealing? Even as we were unboxing all the Santa gifts, Saundra couldn't help but play with them. After paper was shredded and boxes discarded, we started on the ham. I can say, without hyperbole, that it was the best ham I've ever eaten, and I'm a big fan of Heavenly Ham.

On the 29th, I get a call from Enterprise Rent-a-Car. They say that I've reached the limit of my insurance policy, and I can return it, or continue to rent for the same discounted price on my dime. Since it was estimated to be finished by today, I call the body shop that's fixing my car. "Perfect timing, Mr. Hall. We were going to call you in a couple of hours. It's in the finishing room now; we just need to give it the final once over to make sure we got it all." Excellent. We run to the rental place, return their Sentra, cruise to the body shop, retrieve my Civic, and slide on back home to relax. Good day.

On the 30th, Saundra's family came by for a visit. (They called on the 28th, but I figured that didn't warrant a whole entry.) Her parents, 2 brothers, a sister, and their families. It was a full house. We made another ham (m-mm, that's some good ham), and everyone enjoyed it. We all played Taboo and, as usual, the team Saundra and I were on totally kicked butt. The next morning, I made pancakes from scratch, we had some sausage and biscuits, and everyone pigged out again and had a good time before it was time to leave. Another good day.

That night I fell asleep watching the 2006 WSOP main event. Saundra woke me for midnight so we did manage to kiss in the New Year as we should.

Perhaps tonight we'll get around to draining the other bottle of fake wine.

--Beav (I'll have a fake hangover in the morning)

Mama Said, Mama Said!

Well, Tuesday was probably not the worst day of my life, but certainly the worst in recent memory.

Saundra has to go to San Antonio for a week. Her gestational diabetes didn't go away after Tristan was born, so after looking at her records and steadfastly not talking to anyone who might know, a "board" decided that she should separate from the Air Force. None to pleased with that decision, she's going to fight it. But, to do that, she had to fly out to the main AF hospital at Lackland AFB: Home of Basic Training.

So, Tuesday, she flew out. On the way to see her off at the airport, traffic on I-64 came to a sudden stop (as traffic on I-64 does sometimes). I, however, did not come to a stop suddenly enough, so the car in front of me helped, by putting its bumper in my headlight and its tailpipe through my bumper. D'oh! No people are injured (thanks HoTei!). My car has seen better days, but it's still completely drivable. Off to Norfolk Airport!

Did you know that if the flyer is on military orders, you can get a pass to go to the gate with them? I found that out. Unfortunately, I was in my uniform, and had to take off my belt, boots, coat, security badge, and all sorts of hideously inconvenient things to do so. The boots were the tough part since my recovering knee does not much like the twisting wrenching that sometimes occurs when donning/doffing combat boots. So anyway, I sit with her at the gate for a while. We commiserate a bit about the car. I wish her good luck and godspeed, and head on my way to work. I'll have lots of stuff to catch up on.

And I do.

At the end of the day, it's my first time to pick up both the kids with no help from Mommy, and I make it through intact. On the way down I-664, the car decides that it's had it up to here with that right front tire, which storms out in a huff. I sit on the side of the interstate silently listing all the cursewords I know. I call the insurance company to send someone out to give us a tow, and their automatic call back service that tells you who will get there when says it'll be an hour. I review all the cursewords I know, and make up a few.

Luckily, he gets there in 15 minutes instead. I have an infant and a 4 year old with me and they're going to get hungry quickly. We wait at the tire place for an hour or so, get some snacks to handle the oldest while the young one naps, and eventually head home where I proceed to get absolutely no sleep. Guess some days just won't die.

"But I'm feeling much better now."

--Beav

Read My Lips: No Noodle Surgery

About a month ago, we took Tristan in to the hospital for something. In the check that they gave him, they noted that his fontanelle (soft spot) seemed to have closed. As most of you probably know, it's a bit early for that. If the cranial bones fuse too early, it sometimes doesn't leave enough room for the brain to grow, or the head grows misshapen. So, of course they set him up with a CT scan to take a look at how things were forming up.

The CT scan revealed that the metopic suture (runs up the middle of the forehead) and the anterior fontanelle had closed prematurely. This was a bit of a worry. When we talked to the neurosurgeon, she gave him a once over and it looks unlikely that he will require surgery. (Whew!) If it were going to cause problems, one would expect his forehead to be pointy in front; sort of pinched looking. It is not. He's every bit as handsome as his brother. So, we'll take another look-see in November, but the prognosis is good.

Yay!

--Beav (No need having two convalescing babies in the same house.)

We now return you to your regularly scheduled life

Alabama is behind me, and I've come back to Virginia. Back to the job that never changes. Back to doing the dishes and cleaning up the living room. Back to a fussy baby that still won't let us sleep through the night. Back to a 4 year old with more energy than a nuclear reactor and lots of mischief to expend it on. Back to responsibility.

God, it's good to be home!

--Beav

Daddy!

Today was a good day.

I sucked raw eggs in my blogger tourney. (Let someone put me on tilt, and crippled myself to him.) Looked like an idiot marching around. But I went to brunch with my friends here, and then had a cookout with them. I've gotten (and given) many "Happy Father's Day"s. Most of all, I talked to my dad, wife, and sons today. Ryan gained conversation skills somewhere about a week after I left. Tristan is now making fun cooing sounds and is ticklish. Dad is trying to market his rock band, cut a demo, and what not. (Yeah, my dad started a rock band!)

Really made it Father's Day.

I love my life.

--Beav (not to mention the people in it)

The Mother and Child Reunion is Only a Motion Away

Wow! What a day. Saundra woke me up this morning and said, “This is it; time to go.” We hustled everything up and into the car, and off we went. We got to Labor and Delivery and hung out there for a little while; called one friend to get our 4 year old (how did he get so big?) to day care; called another to pick him up later (set that up ahead of time, thank goodness); and then I went in to join my wife.

We spent several hours just waiting, as contractions came and contractions went (easy for me to say). The baby didn’t like us listening in on him, so to keep a monitor on his heart rate, they eventually had to put a probe in that sat in/on his cranium. She got an epidural (easier on the both of us), and we waited some more.

Fun interlude: somewhere during the last paragraph, Home Depot called about our floor measurements and such (Saundra's getting some of our floors redone). I say, "She's a little busy in labor at the moment." "Is she available, can I speak to her for a minute?" I'm a bit amazed at that response, so I reiterate: "She's in labor." "Oh. She can call back later."

Finally, the time was nigh, and she started pushing. I held one foot while a nurse held the other. For our older son, I was somewhere back by her head, so this was the first time I got the ringside seat. Amazing! It’s an experience like no other…disturbing and wondrous at the same time. And so was born our second lovely son.

Vital Stats

Weight: 9 Lbs. 1.9 Oz.
Length: 20.5 In.
Date/Time: 17 Apr 06/12:01 PM

Yay!!

--Beav (Who’s your Daddy?)

What, Again?

Yes, I changed it again. But I added another link to the links list, changed the titles of the various sections from the boring defaults to something a little more...me ("Previous Posts" became "What I Said" for example). I think (we'll see if it works) I'll add my Launchcast station to the links, too.

And now, it's time for another installment of 1-2-3 Magic Theater. Last time, our hero was doing well under the new discipline program. Stay tuned! We're back! Ryan is still doing well. He seems to have even picked up the stoicisim that we have to exhibit when disciplining. The first few times he went to time-out, he carried on (with much wailing and gnashing of teeth). Now, he hits the chair, and sits quietly for his 3 minutes (no fuss, no muss!). That is a wonder in and of itself. So, we're pleased.

As I was driving down the interstate today, I listened to Shining Like a National Guitar, a Paul Simon Greatest Hits album on my iPod. The Cool, Cool River came on, and I felt. The last section played and Paul sang:

And these streets
Quiet as a sleeping army
Send their battered dreams to heaven, to heaven
For the mother’s restless son
Who is a witness to, who is a warrior
Who denies his urge to break and run
Who says: hard times? I’m used to them
The speeding planet burns
I’m used to that
My life’s so common it disappears
And sometimes even music
Cannot substitute for tears

I've always thought this to be a particularly moving bit, and today, as some other times, it welled up in me, bringing those tears.

--Beav (I got something in my eye, that's all)