It's the final countdown

We're finally down to about 16 days before JG gets home. I've not done a single Christmas preparation. The closest thing to "holiday" I've come to is attending the office seasonal party. I brought the boys, they had babysitting there, and quite honestly that was the only reason I was able to attend.

Last year JG and I went together and his mother sat the kids for us. Martha had taken me to get the dress which was no easy feat as I was on crutches from and ankle surgery. You should have seen my face at the Officer's Club when the event was on the second floor and there wasn't a working elevator. Can we say Cathedral ceilings?

I was daydreaming about how sweet JG was last year. He requested our song "At Last" by Etta James. We 'danced' right there at our table. Here's the photo Ms Carolyn took of us with her cell phone.

This year Gary and Amy Coppage were taking portaits again and it was all I could do not to cry watching our wedding slideshow they had playing. Gary had the first retirement ceremony at the Air Force Memorial and he jumped at the chance to shoot our wedding.

JG and I haven't even picked out photos for the albums. Heck, we haven't even sent out thank you cards yet. (I'm refusing to do them by myself.)

Those things will have to take a back seat to our splurge at the indoor water park Great Wolfe Lodge in Williamsburg and some overall reconnecting. Looks like JG will most likely be home before the New Year so we'll be starting 2010 exactly where I want to be - right by his side.

Last game of the season ...

It's like the cliched start to an action flick: We need you to come out of retirement for just One. More. Mission. Chances of survival are slim. Odds are stacked against you. Oh, and there are kids invovled. Only I'm not really coming out of retirement. We're in the United Arab Emirates, so pretty safe. And the only hindrances to mission accomplishment are our own internal struggles to release information without anyone sounding like idiots. Oh, and there's no kids involved. But otherwise totally like a bad action movie ...

As a semi-related sidenote, New York Mets catcher Brian Schneider (Happy belated, Backstop!) And I were born on the exact same day. Other than him being bigger, stronger, more in shape and talented, there's hardly any difference between us at all. So it occurs to me that I could totally be playing for the Mets right now instead of deployed to the Middle East. Let's go Mets ...

We were actually requested to come out to the UAE for a pretty high-profile gig. As a service, the Air Force takes a lot of flack over the F-22 Raptor. There are lots of good arguments on both sides of the issue whether or not we need the jet. Much of that comes from it having never fought a combat mission or been tested in the Middle East. Well, that second point is no longer valid as a half dozen Raptors are out here for an exercise. To hear the pilots and maintainers talk about it, the jet performs beyond expectations. And there is another indisputable fact: The F-22 is just awesomely awesome ...

The best thing about being here, as awesome as the Raptor is, is the fact that this is, for all intents and purposes, our last mission before we go home. It's been a long six months of emotional and professional roller coaster rides. Jennifer and I continue to make plans for all the ways we want to reconnect as husband and wife, as parents to Zachary and Edward and all the other relationships we have with friends. Basically, just making sure we're meeting each other's needs. Talking about everything we want to do - family vacation to the Great Wolf Lodge, playing video games together, etc - has kept us all very excited about homecoming. Although I don't think Jennifer is quite aware of how often we'll be eating at Five Guys Burgers & Fries ...

But for now, it's focus on the mission so we can end our tour strongly. I've had the chance to take a lot of pictures again, so that's been cool. Also have a couple of stories in the works that I can't wait to get sent out. And while I've written before about how Yoshi should get an F-15E Strike Eagle as a secret vehicle in the next Mario Kart, I think I have another suggestion as well ...

Holidazed and Confused ...

Today I’m in Afghanistan “celebrating” my 33rd birthday. What’s funny is this isn’t even my first birthday at Bagram Airfield. Three years ago, I turned 30 here. The Army guys I was stationed with at the time bought some biscuits from the Popeye’s Chicken here and that was my cake. This year, we had pizza the night before as this year, like every few years, my birthday falls on Thanksgiving Day. So for me, today isn’t especially about my birthday, but rather, celebrating that a year ago today I asked Jennifer to marry me and she said yes. Believe me, I’m still just as shocked …

The day started early for me too. The aerial photographer on our team, Staff Sgt. Mike Keller, is flying in an F-15E Strike Eagle over Afghanistan today. It’s the first time something like this has been done over here, so it’s really cool that it’s our team involved. What’s also cool is that he’s flying with the 335th Expeditionary Fighter Squadron from Seymour Johnson Air Force Base, N.C., my first duty station. But Mike had to be at the squadron at four in the morning, so someone had to bring him. But it’s okay because he’s taking Yoshi up on the flight with him. Seriously, the next Mario Kart game needs to have a Strike Eagle as an unlockable vehicle. Missiles > turtle shells …

Driving back to the office, I saw someone running. Now, it’s great and all to want to stay in shape, but for cryin’ out loud, it was 4:30 in the morning, really windy and 25 degrees outside. Then I saw another runner. This one was wearing shorts. And that’s when it hit me. I don’t like *anything* enough to do it at 4:30 in the morning in 25 degree weather. I don’t even like cuddling with Jennifer that much. But then again, her feet are usually about 25 degrees …

And to be honest, I actually miss her cold feet. I miss the boys jumping on us as we try to sleep in on the weekends. I miss having to take the dog outside. And that was my second revelation for the morning. Even the less fun aspects of family life, it’s still my family life, and I really can’t wait to get back to it. So for my birthday, I don’t want candles; I’d rather light a fire in our fireplace. Because sooner or later, Jennifer will inevitably attack me with her freezing feet, and then I’ll know I’m home …

Peanuts, Cracker Jack ...

We’re heading into the bottom of the seventh inning on this deployment. Just a few more weeks to go and I’ll be heading home, or as Jennifer calls it, “Back where you belong.” Can’t really argue with her on that. A little bummed, however, as no one sang “Take Me out to the Ballgame” for us …

But we did have lots of treats. My team had some extended downtime between missions for the first half of November, which was nice because we’ve quick-turned from one mission to the next for a while now. And when we got back from Iraq, I had a bunch of care packages waiting for me from family as well as my contacts from AnyAirman.com and Operation Write Home. And yes, we even had thematically appropriate seventh-inning stretch snacky snacks …

Jennifer sent lots of Halloween treats like stuff to decorate our own cookies and lots of candy. So while I didn’t get to dress up and go trick-or-treating with my sons this year (one of my top five regrets during this deployment), I did get to celebrate my favorite holiday a little bit. She also sent a pirate piñata. I swear my intentions were good and I wanted all nine of us in the combat camera section to get a turn to swing at it. But I went first and, armed with a baseball bat, in one swing showed the pirate why ninja are better …

The time was also really good for our family. Jennifer and I did a lot of pre-reconnecting - talking about things we want to do once I get home and even settling of some old arguments. Difficult at times, wonderful at others, positive all the way around. Marriage at a billion miles from each other is a lot more difficult than either of us thought it would be. But we’re growing and making progress as a wedded couple. Despite the times when we want to choke each other, we are still good about acknowledging our love for one another and maintaining the goal of resolving our disagreements. Even when I’m not as correct about things as I usually think I am …

Right now I’m hoping to get home a few days after Christmas. I asked Zachary point blank if he wanted to open presents on the 25th or wait until I got home. Without missing a beat, he made the family decision for us and said he wants to wait until I get home. I’m really proud of him for that decision and it means a lot to me that he's willing to wait so we can enjoy the day as a family. Being a dad from a billion miles away is just as trying as being a husband and the time apart has been really difficult for the boys, too. And really, all I want for Christmas is to be with my family again. Santa better come through for me on this one too. He still owes me for that LEGO train set I always wanted. And if not, well, he can ask the pirate about my batting skills …

Home Stretch

JG's homecoming is way overdue if you take into account how much the kids and I miss him. I've gone back and forth between feeling anxious and excited about the day he comes home. In some aspects the distance has made us stronger, but in other ways weaknesses are quite apparent. More than anything else I crave proximity.

Now some random thoughts.

Until last night, I forgot how much I enjoy the Burger King fish sandwich. You have to remmeber to order it with cheese. It comes with lettuce. It's the size of a Whopper. Yum.

I hate checking the mail, mainly because our mailbox key needs to be inserted and turned "just right." Also, more than 90 percent of it is junk mail that clutters the house.

What's your favorite line of the month?

1. Drove kids to Massachusettes this month to visit two sets of Grandparents.
2. Air Force Communications Workshop coordinator - huge success.
3. Drive two to Massachusettes -- arrived exhausted.
4. Blew 60 watt fuses in the heater/AC system.
5. Paid $60 to be told I didn't trip the breaker all the way.
6. Nodded off only an hour into trip home with boys.
7. Stopped for night early afternoon got in two good naps before checking out before midnight.
8. Two naps cost three charges of $100 each on my debit card.
9. Idiot manager at Comfort Inn.
10. Competent sales director at Comfort Inn.
11. USAA thought Comfort Inn manager was an idiot too.
12. Bacon, cheese and eggwhite omlets are yum. Don't judge.
13. Good friends made it possible to go on temporary duty in San Antonio: Mike, Heather and Julie.
14. Julie made video of Judy's limp.
15. Judy is my dog I nickname JuJu.
16. Heather sat JuJu first, before her dental surgery.
17. Doing lunch with Heather tomorrow.
18. Picked JuJu up last night, busted kids bedtime.
19. Edward loves to nap in car.
20. Zachary won't stop talking in car.
21. "If Daddy's not here to protect you, I will and if I'm not here to protect you, Edward will. I love you, Mom, so much," said Zachary.
22. It didn't make me cry, I had tears rolling down my cheeks before that.
23. Motivated to become potential bone marrow donor.
24. Zachary says the things I told him is 80 percent processed, he's still "typing" what adopted means in his mind.
25. Crosswalk complex discovered between Market Square and Riverwalk. Gitty over diagonal crosswalks.
26. Blinking man bad, blinking hand bad, solid man bad.
27. It's nice to be needed, but my phone wouldn't stop ringing.
28. Came home to a freezing house at 5:30 a.m.
29. RAGE. I hate being cold.
30. Bought two packs of fuses at Home Depot.
31. Lectured by home depot man that fuses are hard to come by in the spring.
32. Visited with Grandfather, he survived lunch with the great grandsons.
33. Wonders why there are pillows stacked on top of the step stool in the kitchen right now as I write this.
34. JuJu hurt her paw upon transfer from Heather to Julie.
35. Julie posted picture of JuJu on Facebook.
36. Heather's last blog post is old.
37. Can't figure out why MY mail key won't work, but the spare Mike has does.
38. Thankful the drip in the bathroom is gone.
39. Entertaining the idea of a bathroom rennovation party.
40. Car goes to shop AGAIN tomorrow.
41. Paying off two debts tomorrow.
42. Found blue hairspray to be Marge.
43. Loves the electric blanket.
44. Misses JG terribly.
45. Indy, the snake, is hungry.
46. Bought a wool coat. It's cream colored. Matched brown or black shoes.
47. Lost an earing back. JG bought me more already.
48. Suitcases still aren't unpacked.
49. Car inspection due. Oil change due. Due for wipers.
50. Commented on 30 blog posts. Hope it makes people smile.
51. I have three Halloween costumes.
52. Raynauds turned my right elbow blue too.
53. Zachary has ringworm. Luckily it's not a real worm. I looked it up.
54. Forgot how much I love quiche.
55. Will only eat sausage pizza with bacon. It's a texture thing.
56. "NO!" to Zach's question of "Do you miss my birth dad?"
57. Blended lattes at Cold Stone suck.
58. Wait staff at Boudros sucked twice.
59. Almost forgot to pay the mortgage.
60. DTS worked. Weird. (Defense Travel System)
61. Lost every Mortal Kombat game except one ... a nearly flawless victory. I rock.
62. JG has Halloween care package waiting on him. Hope he gets back to his deployment home base soon!
63. Admired her seamstress friend Liz's handiwork.
64. Bought a bag of dark chocolate Saturday and there's more than half left still. ODD.
65. Hates pre-made breakfast sandwiches at rest stop Burger King.
66. Can't figure out why they don't make biscut sandwiches at the rest stops.
67. Upset the gasoline pump operators didn't wash her windsheid.
68. Zachary stepped on my bad ankle as I was tucking him in this week.
69. Became a Mary Kay consultant ... in it for the discount, their skin care is amazing.
70. Irriated Starbucks at rest stops aren't open 24 hours.
71. Started preferring dunkin donuts coffee again.
72. More than 400 hits on our blog since we started keeping track.
73. Ate half a jar of mini sweet pickles as a snack at work.
74. PFB, you know who you are, witnessed my success against Adobe.
75. Still haven't played my voice messages from last week.
76. Gray is not natural. I don't care how old you are.
77. Salon employee told me she "liked my shape" asked if I needed a brazilian and offered me wine.
78. FEDEXKINKOS open 24 hrs. Pay attention Starbucks! 6 a.m. is too late for hard core road tripests.
79. Flat boots can be sexy.
80. Lamb chops. Mmmmmmm. The accompained red wine went to waste. Bitter bites.
81. Blockout new game addiction.
82. Pulled Professional Development Guide into plain view.
83. Excited I found the honeymoom photos.
84. OfficeDepot closes at 6 p.m. on Sundays. They suck too.

Feeling KRABby, thinking ahead ...

Kirkuk Regional Air Base, or KRAB, has to be one of the worst names for an installation ever. "Where ya headed?" "Oh, I've got KRAB." Or for the more insulting, K-RAB (rhymes with Ahab, as in the captain) and is used by the same type of folks who call our "A-Rab" hosts "Ragheads." Ah, tolerance, understanding and partnership. Then again, I was stationed at Seymour Johnson ...

Kirkuk is home to one of the places where Americans are training Iraqi pilots so *their* air force can protect *their* airspace and we can get the heck outta Dodge. We covered this mission at Camp Taji (thesergeantsbuzz.blogspot.com/2009/07/so-this-is-what-iraq-is-like.html) except with helicopters. Here they're flying Cessnas for intel gathering and some other stuff. Some people fly Cessnas for fun or even in races. In high school, my orthodontist took me up in his Cessna. Wonder if he knows he could be a pilot with the Iraqi air force if that making six figures a year in Southern California doesn't pan out ...

On the whole, Kirkuk is pretty nice. It's one of the places where we'll be drawing down troops sooner rather than later. Progress! It's a lot like Taji in that the mission and attitude is focued on getting Iraqi training programs up and running so we can leave and not come back. People here aren't burned out and bitter like in Baghdad. We aren't shelled daily like in Balad AKA "Mortar-itaville." Where's the salt ...

It's still really nice to have a break from the rigors of deployment, however, and we had a great visit from the USO this week. They brought a bunch of cartoonists on a tour through the Middle East and stopped by here. They were all really nice and went out of their way to talk to Airmen and Soldiers stationed here. It ended up being a fantastic experience for me for a few reasons. One, I got a really good story out of it (www.kirkuk.afcent.af.mil/news/story.asp?id=123173934). Two, Rick Kirkman, who draws "Baby Blues" did some drawings for the family - Hammie with a lightsaber for Zachary and Hammie holding Yoshi for Edward; Darryl and Wanda for me and Jennifer ...

But I've also decided on what I'd like to do once I get out of the Air Force. I've long been a fan of the USO and what they do to support military members and their families. And on these tours, they bring photographers and entertainment directors to make sure everything is taken care of for the celebrities who come out to help us forget, if only for a little while, that we're in a war zone. So I think I want to be one of those guys. Working for the USO would have its own rewards and I'd still be doing the writing, photography, media and community relations kinds of things I enjoy in the Air Force. Of course, that's not for another 12 years or so. But it's nice to have an idea of what I want to do once I get promoted to the rank of civilian ...

The three hats I wear ...

The message on the screen offered a ‘thank you’ for choosing to watch a movie in their theater. As if there’s another choice. But here at Joint Base Balad, Iraq (because it would hurt the feelings of the other services if continued to just call it Balad Air Base … and don’t get me started about the new “Joint Base Andrews Naval Air Station”), I actually did get to sit in a real movie theater and eat real movie theater popcorn with real movie theater popcorn butter. Or “butter,” as it were. Now if only I could have watched a real movie instead of the predictable and trite “Surrogates,” starring Bruce Willis and playing at a theater near you. Unless you’re deployed, in which case it’s only playing at *the* movie theater …

So we’re back in the ‘raq to cover a couple of missions. Of all the things that make this assignment difficult, the traveling is the worst. Well, that’s not entirely true. The being away from home is the hardest part, obviously. But the hardest part of the actual job is the traveling. Being in a variety of countries and working with lots of different people is cool, but the actual flying part takes its toll. It routinely takes us an entire day, if not more, to get anywhere from our home base. Not because the places are so far away, but because air transportation is so unpredictable and prone to outright cancelation. And here I thought BWI was bad …

What it does give is a lot of downtime either waiting in the passenger terminal or on the long flight itself, where, because space is so cramped, you’re absolutely glad they use Dial. Because of the limited number of flights at any given time, most of them are packed with people, cargo or both. Reading is difficult because there aren’t exactly overhead lights. There’s no beverage service either, unless the loadmaster is good enough to say, “Hey, Dude, you want a water? It’s in the cooler over there,” but even that is the exception rather than the rule. We’re allowed to bring our own food and drinks, but there really isn’t much room for more than a single bottle of water for the entire five-hour-plus flight when you’re carrying your helmet, body armor, rifle, pistol, ammo for both, first aid kit, bag of clothes, bag of work stuff, partridge in a pear tree …

So with all the downtime, there’s lots of time to think, reflect, daydream, ponder, reverie, fantasize, recall, imagine, consider and muse about all sorts of things. Like, for example, all the words you can come up with that are synonyms for “think.” Also gives time to remember how much you miss your wife and kids. And because we’re traveling every other week, if not more, there’s a lot of time for that missing. My pal Tech. Sgt. Joseph Kapinos (read his blog at combatcorrespondent.blogspot.com/) recently lamented on how he’ll explain to his daughter the time he missed watching her grow up. I’ll be honest; I wonder how Jennifer and I will be able to justify all our time deployed away from our boys. “Wonder” … missed that one …

At home I see myself wearing three hats – Husband, Dad and Airman. It’s the requirements of the my Airman that has me literally wearing three hats out here -- one for each of the uniforms I wear, depending on the mission. All those hats and uniforms make it a real pain to pack. Especially when I’m trying to bring some extra snacky snacks along for the flight and can’t fit them in my bag …

But I also know that it’s because of that Airman hat that I’m able to provide for my family and wear the other two. Conversely, it’s wearing the Dad and Husband hats that make me a better Airman, I think. And though I’ve been an Airman a lot longer than I’ve been a husband and a father, I’m finding my priorities have changed dramatically in life. No more thoughts about bases or assignments I wanted to apply for that would take me all over the world and away from home. Not now that I share my home with someone other than my snake. Or rather, OUR snake. And OUR home. OUR dog. OUR television. OUR bed. HER kitchen, but I don’t mind that so much. Besides, MY PlayStation …

But I don’t have the answer as to how we explain why we have to be away so often. We haven’t told the boys yet about Jennifer’s looming deployment next year. I just hope that she’s assigned to a specific base and doesn’t have to travel as much as I do. Jennifer’s idea of packing for a trip involves at least five bags. And that’s just for overnight …

For now, however, it’s mind on the mission and not how much I’d rather be having lightsaber fights with the boys, playing Scrabble with Jennifer or doing anything together as a family. Can’t dwell on missing them while we’re out on a patrol in an Iraqi village. “Dwell” … that’s another one I missed …

Edward

Edward and Coral got 'married' sometime last year. They go to the same daycare together. Edward just turned five last month and started Kindergarten. He's a 'klubmate' in the before and after school program so he doesn't get to see Coral as much anymore. Edward was so excited when he saw Coral's mom last week and told her about the note I put on Coral's cubbie and that Coral would need her pajamas for the play date. (I think this is the only age I'll be able to laugh at that.)

Saturday, the boys and I met Coral's whole family at a nearby elementary school to play. Edward had a blast showing off on the monkey bars and avoiding the 'lava' while Coral ran around saying Edward was her true love and that she was a princess. When it was time to say goodbye, Edward reciprocated the mint Coral had given him at their greeting with Goldfish. He opened the mini bag of crackers by himself. The bag was ripped too far and I knew that he knew it was going to make a mess. After handing the bag to Coral he reached into our truck, literally pulled out half a box of tissues and handed it to Coral's mom. "Just incase," he said.

Tonight Edward had a karate test. He earned his yellow belt which means he's proficient at three defensive measures. The tests are very private and I couldn't observe him. After his test we waited about 20 minutes for Zachary's class to be over and Edward still had enough leftover energy to run up and down the sidewalk repeatedly. I suspect they could drill him harder next time.

Speaking of time, Edward knows that his Daddy comes home right after Christmas. The last couple of weeks he's stopped asking when Daddy comes home and instead has asked how long it is until Christmas.

Karate seems to be helping Edward pass the time. And when he's not obsessing over his new Spiderman alphabet writing workbook, riding his new bike or lining up his cars in a perfectly straight line he's either watching or playing a video game.

Edward is absolutely fascinated with the Ghostbusters video game. It plays out like the third movie that never got made, so I'm told. He watched Daddy play it and win right before he deployed in June. JG had a Ghostbusters patch made for Edward and put it in a package that arrived this week for the boys.

The awesomeness of the patch wore off quick as Edward realized Daddy sent 'cereal.' A box of Fruity Pebbles, and one each individual servings of Fruit Loops, Cocoa Puffs and Apple Jacks. I hate sugary cereal. I grew up on plain Cheerios, Crispix, Kix, Shredded Wheat, and Corn, Wheat and Rice Chex. And Daddy knows I refuse to buy the 'good' stuff for the boys.

Edward loves being told he is a good listener and that Daddy and I are proud of him. Tonight it was easy to give him praise. He had taken the four boxes of Capri Suns (only 100% juice in this house) and put them in the fridge. Then, Edward said he was going to put he empty boxes in the recycling bin for me outside in the shed. He came in and got four drinks out of the fridge and laid each on a coaster in a perfect row on the end table. I'm guessing he got the fourth one for Daddy. Edward also keeps checking the freezer to make sure the two birthday cupcakes are in there for Daddy.

The new five-year-old got ready for bed without being coached and was satisfied with one bedtime story. Zachary was out cold for the night before I had even went in their room to tuck them in. Edward looked over at Zachary and said if Zachary was sick in the morning that Zachary could stay home with me and he would go to school like a big boy.

Awe.

Back in black ...

If someone attempts to stab me with a pen, but I succeessfully deflect it, would that be ... a writer's block ...

Sigh. I know. Who still writes with pens? But I've been finding it increasingly difficult to write over the last couple of weeks. I think it's been a mixture of the doldrums of being deployed, dealing with issues back home and whatever other excuse I might be able to come up with. Fortunately, a change of scenery has helped. Right now we're in a country I'd never visited before, covering missions I've never written about. But there's always gotta be something that goes wrong. I think it's a law or something ...

After working through some of the initial job-related difficulties (we're not exactly seeing eye-to-eye with the local public affairs office and we're not allowed to drive ourselves anywhere) we were able to meet up with the flying squadrons here "at a location somewhere in Southwest Asia." The other guys on the team have been able to get flights on the refuelers here, but I've spent my time hanging out with the guys who fly U-2s and Global Hawks. They've been really helpful and even let me go with them in the chase car a couple of times as U-2s would launch or land. In fact, here's the intro to my story about the U-2 mission ...

With or Without You knowing, Airmen are on The Fly at the highest Elevation over areas Where the Streets Have no Name as pilots take great Pride in their Desire to fight Vertigo or become Numb and keep One Beautiful Day from turning Bad, because Sometimes You Can’t Make it On Your Own and rather than troops having to Walk On or Running to Stand Still, these aviators Stay for A Sort Of Homecoming, because although Some Days are Better than Others it’s still better than a Sunday Bloody Sunday. Zooropa.

Okay, not really. But it's what I *wanted* to write. Instead I wrote about a captain flying his first mission out here and another story about why the reconnaissance squadron is important. I even was able to borrow a camera to take some pictures, which was nice since mine is still broken. I loathe only being able to do one aspect of my job. That's my biggest complaint about my time out here. Except for like, the being away from my family and in a war zone part ...

There are two things going on with my time at this base though:

1) I'm excited to write again

2) I'm reminded of why I enjoy being in the Air Force

I'm pretty happy with the two stories I've written here so far and have plans for a couple more. So it's nice to be out of that funk. But also it's been great working with the people here. The folks at the 99th Expeditionary Reconnaissance Squadron have outright said "Hey, you're part of the squadron while you're here," and they've bent over backward to help me. The majority of the people in the Air Force really make this more than just a job and something I like being a part of. That and getting to tear down an open runway in a sports car at 90 miles an hour is just awesome ...

So between having cool things to write about and working with people who make my job worthwhile, I feel like I've got my groove back. The trip to this base has been pretty good for the most part - decent Internet, good mission, a room with a bed, not getting shot at. Not sure where we're headed next, but wherever it is, I'm looking forward to it. My only hope is that I'll be looking forward to it through the viewfinder of my camera and not one I have to borrow ...

True. Very true.

"Times are tough, but they'll get better soon, Darling. I miss you terribly. Love, JG"

That's what the card said. One morning last week, flowers were at my desk before I was.

We were arguing again just two days later.

Things are strained. Every disagreement leads to an argument about how we argue. Our efforts to dissect the IMs and/or emails to figure out where our communication went wrong has only shined a spotlight on how imperfect we are. Baggage and bias have skewed our views on acknowledgment, forgiveness and apologies.

Actual words are less than 10 percent of communication. Well, when words are all there are to go on internet delays during a live chat, lack of or use of the wrong 'emoticon' and even word choice makes the 90 percent margin for error a guarantee.

JG and I were talking about how were we at the halfway mark of his deployment when his countdown application registered 48.5 percent. It was about a week before it officially hit more than 50 percent. I swear time stood still for hours at a time.

I took the kids out to Silver Diner for dinner tonight. We had made friends with the manager, Jackie, before JG left due to an unfortuante hummus incident. "We guarantee our restaurant is sparkling clean, and that goes for the food too," Jackie had said. Anyway, Jackie greeted the kids and I warmly. She asked how JG and I were doing. After listening for a couple minutes she broke in with "that's only because you miss each other so much."

True. Very true.

"I'll have ... that ..."

To be fair, I didn't know what it was either, but the gal in front of me in the chow line was willing to brave eating ... whatever it was ... so I figured I would as well. I mean, hey, enough barbecue sauce and you can make anything taste good. And thanks to my mother-in-law, I actually have a bottle. Now if only someone could send a bottle of merlot. Three dollars for half a plastic cup of box o' wine is killin' me ...

Our team has had some much-needed downtime this week so we could say hello to the new folks, adieu to those headed home. We were even able to get off base and go downtown. I did some shopping, some haggling for coworkers over what they were buying and spent some recreational time with colleagues. Stacia Zachary and I go back a long time. We went to basic training together, technical training, conferences, more training and she's been another sister for me. Like I need any more ...

But we said our good-byes as she heads home to her family and in her stead is another friend, Joseph "Kap" Kapinos who keeps a blog at combatcorrespondent.blogspot.com/. Kap and I go back a few years too. It's a small career field and getting smaller by the day as more and more people get fed up with the constant deployments and time away from family. While that's what we three discussed mostly, it was intended to be more a trip to increase morale, not beat it into submission. So we had ice cream ...

I also scream, because our mission now is "elsewhere in Southwest Asia" at a base in a country that doesn't want us to talk about the base being in their country, which presents a great challenge for me as it's kinda my job to talk about the people and the mission at that base in that country. But I have it on good authority that the food is good. Which is great, because I didn't pack my bottle of barbecue sauce ...

On a more positive note, Jennifer and I are hashing out disagreements a little bit better now that we're on the downward slope of our time away from each other. At this points it's just hitting little milestones - holidays, birthdays, holidays that are also birthdays that fall on Thanksgiving ...

In the meantime I've started writing to Zachary's class and got a nice note back from his teacher. I remember during Desert Storm writing to deployed servicemembers in school. Now I get to be on the other end of it. An old friend from college also wrote a nice piece in the Northcoast Journal about Jennifer and me (www.northcoastjournal.com/issues/2009/09/24/yo-afghanistan/). I'm finding writing to be a really good way of staying connected to the world back home. I think E.T. had it all wrong. All he needed was a good Web cam connected to his Speak 'n' Spell ...

Livin' on a Prayer ...

Deployments are their most difficult about halfway through. The excitement and bravado and newness of it all has worn off, but you've still got just as much time as you've already served before you're heading home. When I first got here, my dear friend Stacia was at the point I am now. She took great satisfaction in reminding me of what I told her then: You're better than this ...

I keep telling myself I volunteered for the deployment, knowing what I was getting into. I guess it's just not working out the way I'd hoped. So taking the advice from another colleague and his blog (http://ironichipocrisy.blogspot.com/), I want to do what I can to "affect change." I've started writing down some things I think would make the assignment better for the person filling it as well as for the Air Force. Unfortunately, the only change I seem to be affecting these days are the pogs-as-nickels/dimes/quarters they give us out here ...

The other change being affected is my and Jennifer's relationship itself. Our marriage was so new when I left; Jennifer and I barely had time to enjoy each other in our matrimonious state. But struggles in communication, priorities and expectations are taking their toll and we're struggling through the days. If I were home, it would certainly be easier -- the struggle would be more like a wrestling match, and that's always fun. It's just hard to wrestle over the phone or email. Besides, they randomly monitor and wouldn't THAT be embarrassing ...

I'm finding myself unfulfilled spiritually as well. The military is finally deploying a Buddhist chaplain (http://www.airforcetimes.com/news/2009/09/ap_buddhistchaplain_090809/), which is good news. The bad news is he doesn't get here til December and will be somewhere in Afghanistan right as I'm preparing to leave. Then again, maybe he and I can spend Christmas together ...

I don't quite know how I got into this funk. I'm waiting for my boss to tell me that I have a bad attitude. My planned response is "yeah, that's 'cause my attitude is bad," but I'm not sure how well that will go over. I'm trying to bounce back and enjoy little things again - Jennifer sent me some totally grubbin' peanut brittle, have a stack of movies, books, magazines and crossword puzzles, and the HBO John Adams series. So lots of entertainment options. I should probably try to do some work also ...

I think my crummy mood started while I was in Panjshir. But there was one bright spot. The staff there regularly hike up this mountain behind the compound. I got up early one morning, just as they were about to set out to conquer "Blue Hill." The major there said I should try it, and so aww, hell, I went. Got about 3/4 of the way up before I almost passed out. Head was spinning, breaths were labored; I was miserable. But I was almost there. So the same major sat with me a minute until I was ready to go. One of the medics said I should probably turn back, which was good and practical advice. But as Jennifer points out, sometimes I'm just too stubborn. I finally made it up there and it was nice to have that victory. I'd accomplished something! I'd decided to take my troubles and like James Baldwin, "Go Tell it on the Mountain." I'm looking at you, fellow English majors ...

So maybe that's what I need. A challenge and (hopefully) ensuing victory. We're headed back out again soon, probably to Iraq again. There are some great folks we'll be working with, so hopefully a change of scenery and quality work will help me snap out of this. It just dawned on me that I'm hoping to improve my mood by GOING to Iraq. Irony is a cruel mistress ...

But wherever we end up going for our next mission, the fact remains that I'm just about 50% done with this deployment. Oh, we're halfway there ...

To Be & Another Piece of Paper

A couple blog posts ago JG broke the news that he will be reenlisting this year despite concern with our career field's deployment rate.

Our career field manager who manages the entire public affairs, broadcaster and photographer enlisted force stopped by last week to visit the Air Force Public Affairs Agency. For me, the three most surprising facts he shared were: PA deployments increased by more than 60 percent this year, state-side broadcast positions were only 35 percent manned and photographers were at a 1:7 deployment dwell rate (pardon combat camera).

And, after listening to the numerous other challenges and how he and the director of public affairs have been working to translate senior leadership's empathy into action, I am now rooting for a 1:1 dwell. (Insert Gasp Here.)

Why?

Anyone can be pulled at any time - making the deployment selection process more 'intimate.' Deployments would be based on an individuals dwell rate. For example, when I deploy next March my dwell rate would have been a 1:5 (thanks to five ankle surgeries). When I come back, my dwell rate starts over at 1:1 and I'm racked and stacked against every other individuals' dwell rates who are not currently deployed, rather than just those within my band.

Also, it gives PA leadership even more justification needed to plead their case for more manpower and to prevent further cuts.

I'm confident that after this long year ahead of us JG and I will be able to PCS and have two years of two-parent stability for our boys - and a baby.

Lately I'm feeling a sense of relief, particularly because of facts and figures, but mostly because there's a bunch of people who care. Supervisors and others in each of our chain of command shared their concern about our situation and empathized that enduring those circumstances long term would have serious consequences for our family. I've also been really impressed with the career field manager's candidness on these and other issues.

I'm also impressed with the director of public affairs. I'm quite thankful he overlooked me answering my direct line today with a rushed "Tech. Sgt. Buzanowski" as I had to put a company wanting an Air Force License Agreement to use the Air Force Symbol on hold. (www.trademark.af.mil) The Colonel called to give me kudos on the work I've been doing on the trademark program, he said he's been hearing my name 'everywhere' but in a good way. He asked how 'Buzz' was doing on his deployment, asked me how the family was doing and told me that he and his wife will be holding a get together at their house next month for all of the spouses of deployed members in our directorate.

Funny in a way to be thought of as a 'spouse.' I really didn't think much about it until today. I find myself socially awkward around other spouses who don't wear the uniform.

So get this - my original deployment tasking was changed meaning I no longer deploy in March, I deploy in May ... but a 30-day combat skills training course in April. I'm so excited that JG and I will get to celebrate our first wedding anniversary together.

Signing that piece paper was much easier.

Tanks for the memories ...

Our team is deployed to the Panjshir Valley in Afghanistan right now, assigned to cover the mission of the provincial reconstruction team here. I'm a big fan of PRTs and spent a lot of time with them on my last tour over here. The teams work directly with the people in the villages to figure out what they need and how to help them get it. In the past, it's often meant a direct handout, but here in Panjshir, they're focused on teaching them how to govern themselves, how to request aid from their provincial leaders, how to get the people to work within the system to accomplish their goals. Yes, we're teaching the Afghans bureaucracy ...

But that's not such a bad thing and here it really seems to be working. Panjshir is considered to be the crown jewel among the provinces in that there aren't any real security issues, so our Airmen, Soldiers and (the) Sailor at the PRT here are able to get out and help mentor them on building schools, creating infrastructure and getting this place up and going so, well, WE can be up and going and not have to come back. But there's a catch; there's always a catch. Unless you're watching a Mets game, in which case there is usually a catch, sometimes a catch, hopefully a catch ...

Panjshir, like much of Afghanistan, is mostly mountains. So to get to the sites where our folks tell them, "This mixture of cement has too much water, so it won't hold the bricks," or, "Bathrooms can NOT drain downhill into the village," and the like, it means long drives over and around said mountains. I honestly was scared a few times we were going to slide down the side of one of the roads just barely wide enough for the Toyota truck we were in. But the folks here know these roads and how to get to the most remote villages. After that, it can sometimes be a hike ... a hike UP the mountain. These kids actually do walk two miles uphill through the snow just to get to school. So apparently, all of our parents went to school in Afghanistan ...

But that's where the story is, so along for the ride I go. Now for some, it's clowns to the left, jokers to the right. For others, it's between a rock and a hard place. Me, I sat between our mujahadeen guard and a guy "from the State Department" during one of our forays. So between the company I was keeping, the mountain we had to climb and the ever-present forces of gravity should our driver zig instead of zag, it's been an adventure. Knew I should have taken my Indiana Jones hat with me ...

And while Indy mostly fought the Nazis, in his last film he contended with Soviets (and aliens, apparently ...), which is exactly what the people in Panjshir did (fight Russians, I mean, not "archeologists from outer space"). The people here have been at war for 30 years. They repelled the Soviet invasion and there's evidence all over the countryside. Old Soviet tanks and personnel carriers litter the countryside, rusted metal hunks of a failed endeavor. The Panjshiri also kicked the Taliban out because they persecuted the people and tried to strongarm them into fighting against us. The Panjshiri instead chose not to. So we've very much learned from the examples before us, which is refreshing. And if we ever get to the point where we lose our way here in Afghanistan, well, we've got some reminders ...

Weekend at Donley's ...

I spent the weekend following around the Secretary of the Air Force, Michael Donley, as he traveled around to several bases and visited with Airmen. It's cool because I did the same sort of thing last time I was deployed with Michael Wynne, the SecAF at the time. We went to like eight different bases and he spoke to hundreds of people. Everyone and their brother wanted a picture with him (okay, I did too ...) so my job was to said pictures. Which was a fantastic opportunity. Until my camera broke ...

Right before I'm supposed to get on the plane, the shutter and autofocus go out on me. So there I am trying to make the thing work and for the life of me can't figure it out. The shutter speed adjuster won't go past 250, won't autofocus and I have to double tap the button to take a picture. Can not for the life of me figure out what happened. So I had to beg, borrow and steal cameras from other public affairs offices, which were very helpful and generous, to do my job. But there were still times when I had to use my D3. So I had to manuall adjust for lighting, speed, focus and hit the button twice every time. Or as my fellow picture takers call it, photography ...

For now I'm just trying to get ready for my next trip out. I've got almost 3,000 pictures to go through because everyone wants their photo, which is understandable. I mean, even Yoshi was demanding I get his photo out ...

Actually the Secretary was pretty cool about it. But the best was while I was headed to Jalalabad (side note: it's my second time to Jalalabad and I wrote about it last time while I was there; mostly about how fun it is to say: Ja-la-la-bad). So there I am on the C-130 (ugh) headed out to J-bad and I take a photo of Yoshi in a seat. The wing commander from Bagram Airfield, Brigadier General Steven Kwast, asks me about my dinosaur companion and I give him the quick version of the story - our youngest son loves Yoshi, I'm taking pictures of Yoshi's adventures around the Middle East. So he says to me, "Hey, you should take a picture of him with the three-star!" So yeah, Lieutenant General Gilmary Hostage (my new big boss out here) took a photo with Yoshi ...

Back on the homefront, I've been trying to work with Jennifer on getting the boys on track with their schooling as well as maintaining our own relationship. I'm still very much learning how to be a husband and father and it's difficult to do this from afar. Sending home videos, emails and pictures of Yoshi help. But next year, when she's deployed and *I'm* the one at home scares the heck out of me. I mean, I can barely feed myself, how am I going to take care of them?! But one issue at a time, right? My biggest challenge has been staying focused on my job because I'm so concerned about what's going on at home. But then again, I've had focus issues all week. Stupid camera ...

Just a Piece of Paper

Just a piece of paper - that's how I referred to it. The official notification for my March 2010 deployment to Baghdad. It sat on my desk Monday. And Tuesday. Wednesday I was called into an office and asked why I hadn't signed it yet.

Instead of getting around to the pile of administrative formalities, this piece of paper and everything it represented was now singled out and staring me in the face.

Six months without.

Tears rolling down my face I signed.

I wrote my husband. He called me immediately.

Past, Present and Future ...

A couple of days back from Afghanistan and I'm leaving right out again. That's how these things go: "downtime" is spent getting ready to leave. Had a few days to recover from the solid days of work at Bagram. Unpacked, did laundry, repacked. Made some decisions, made some obserations, made time to catch up with an old friend. Also had some wine ...

After much deliberation, consternation, contemplation and acceptification, we've decided the best thing for our family is if I reenlist for another four years in the Air Force. The increasing number of deployments is daunting, but the bottom line is I still enjoy what I do in Air Force Public Affairs and that was always the agreement I made with myself. Only it's not just my self I have to worry about anymore. As part of my reenlistment, I'll be eligible to sign up for the new G.I Bill benefit that allows me to transfer the money for college to a wife or child. Basically it's how we're going to send at least one of the kids to school. I figure it's the best gift we can give them for putting up with the months they spend without us. Although if you ask Zachary or Edward, I'm sure it would be a video game. Most of the time I would agree ...

Had a disagreement with my team, however, on how best to perform our mission. There are still some major differences between the way Combat Camera and Public Affairs operate. But despite some growing pains, I think we're slowly starting to understand each other a little better. More than that though, I've done a little soul searching about deployments in general. Or at least the ones I've been on. I do a lot of grousing and griping while I'm deployed. And I always go home with a lot of memories and stories. However, I really need to cut back on sentences that start "Back when I was here last ..." or "When I was deployed to ..." Ugh. I'm becoming THAT guy ...

So my goal is to try and find some perspective that next year I will more than likely look back at my time here as a fulfilling experience, despite any temporary personality conflicts. Because back when I was here last and when I was deployed to Afghanistan, that's how I ultimately came to consider those experiences. Oops, I did it again ...

While deployed, every emotional response amplifies because of physical distance, time difference, connection issues, etc. Every small misunderstanding becomes something so much worse. Jennifer and I have already worked through our fair share of what would be normal relationship difficulties, but they've been worse and more difficult to find resolution to because of our being separated by so much. It's absolutlely our faith in each other and our family that is getting us through those days. And when it isn't relying on each other, it's relying on our friends. Especially when they buy you a drink ...

I ran into my old pal, Rick Wagner, here yesterday. Rick joined the Air Force a couple years after I did. We used to hang out when we lived in Humboldt County, California. We had a lot of the same hobbies and our dads were both in the Coast Guard, so I've always liked Rick. And now here we are in Southwest Asia. A small world it is. Unless you're Yoda ...

Name Your Pets

Zachary, 8, and Edward, 4, are still alive. This is a miracle considering the outright insubordination I corrected all last week. Luckily we had a great weekend and we got through this week with little hassle. Though, some days, I wish we lived on a farm.


When my sister and I were growing up it was not uncommon for us to do hours of chores each day to help sustain our family's little farm. We did chores regardless of our behavior. This was especially true during summer vacation when we had to help stack at least a dozen cords of wood to dry so in the fall we could throw it in the cellar for the ultimate Tetris game. We'd also have to weed endless rows of every vegetable imaginable sustainable by the New England climate.

Today I shake my head in the produce aisle. When veggies would sprout and start to grow there would be overcrowding and we'd have to 'thin' the rows in order to make room for the plants to mature. These discarded plants that we fed to the cows often looked better than what I sometimes see at the grocery store.

When I get really annoyed with Zachary I say "You know what Grandpa with the Chickens would do when mommy gave him attitude growing up?" Then, I'd proceed to tell him that in addition to being punished, part of being a member of the family meant pitching in and helping out. For my sister and I it meant stacking wood for so long our hands would blister, picking potato bugs off the potato plants with our bare hands, hauling pine brush for entire days leaving leaving our hands sore coated with pitch, and carrying garden snakes down the road and throwing them in the woods away from our property line. (My dad still hates snakes.)

My kids have no idea the labor that goes into their dinner plate - and not just veggies and meat - they don't have any concept how cheese, jams, pickles, applesauce, sausage, or bread are made. I do make them watch Food Network and HGTV with me.

Backing up to the hamsters ... you don't name food. That's a rule. That right is reserved for pets and dairy cows. The hamsters were never named, therefore, they were food. And, for the record, I feel it necessary to say we will never own a rodent (or fellow reptile) larger than Indy, the 5-foot ball python, can eat.

Although snakes didn't bother me growing up, there's a big difference holding a garden snake the width of your finger and a snake the width of your arm. I'm not afraid to admit I was a little bit intimidated when Indy and I were first introduced. JG has had her since she was a baby, back in his early college days.

It was January when we decided to let the boys get hamsters as a reward for taking such good care of their goldfish. We ended up with two male dwarf Chinese hamsters. This breed is especially favored because their teeth are about half the length of 'normal' hamsters. (Remember this detail for later.)

Indy had stopped eating in October to hibernate - fast forward to June and she only ate once in that time frame.

Since May, JG and I had joked about feeding the hamsters to Indy. Why? For one, hamsters are nocturnal, we found out. Snakes are too. This is not coincidence. Every night we'd have to take the hamster cage out of the boys' bedroom and put them in the second bathroom. Invariably, one of the kids would wake up in the middle of the night, pee and forget to close the bathroom door. Squeak, squeak, squeak of the wheel. We were getting sick of the kids ignoring their pets and whining when it was time to clean their cage. If I wasn't reminding them daily to feed and water the hamsters they would have died from starvation and dehydration.

We should have predicted the hamster's short longevity when Edward jumped on the top piece of the hamster cage that was lying on the floor as Zachary was cleaning the cage that first Saturday, cracking it. (Remember this too.) We said if we didn't we wouldn't tell the kids and see how many days it took them to figure out what happened.

A Saturday of me asking Zachary to clean the goes by and turns into an entire week. Then another Saturday and Sunday passes, and a Monday and by Tuesday I was annoyed with the smell and growing increasingly worried about Indy.

I see that we only have enough wood chips to clean the hamster's cage one more time. Then it's a $40 investment for another large bag and four more months of commitment to the hamsters. I put Indy in her feeding box and without hesitation she had lunged for Hamster One within a few seconds. I reach in the cage to get Hamster Two, but I can't find it. I disassemble the cage, running my fingers through the nasty shavings and it is no where to be found.

I'm convinced JG fed Hamster Two to Indy before I thought of doing it for real. As I'm disposing of all the hamster evidence JG reveals to me he didn't feed Indy. So, where is Hamster Two? He escaped we're sure thanks to that crack at the top of the cage.

We don't think anything of it until Zachary wakes up to pee an hour later and we hear "I found my other hamster!" followed by "Where's my cage?!?!"

I tell him we'll talk about it in the morning and not to worry I'll catch the other hamster. Luckily he's too tired to argue or to give me the third degree and stumbles off to bed.

Remember the bathroom renovations? Well, both bathrooms are stripped of floors and one-inch holes are in the wall's sheet rock along the baseboard area about six inches apart. The hamster has decided to play a twisted version of 'Wack-A-Mole' with us that's more like 'Catch-a-rat' and no one catches rats better than Indy. After two hours of JG and I trying, I sit on Edward's step stool in front of the sink with Indy on my lap. I'm waiting. I'm ready.

Hamster Two pops out from behind the water heater and attempts to go through one of those holes just inches away from me. The hamster is determined to fit, Indy is busy sniffing the tub, so I reach down and grab him.

He bites me. Hard.

His teeth are stuck in me and I'm screaming to JG that I have the hamster and his teeth are in me. JG is yelling at me to put the hamster down so it stops biting me. I put Hamster Two in the sink. I put Indy in her box. JG puts Hamster Two in the arena. He loses.

The next morning Zachary asks me if we fed the hamsters to Indy. I say yes. He starts carrying on and crying and telling me how mean that was. I put him on pause after a few minutes and said "Zachary, what were your hamsters' names?" Silence for a good ten seconds before "Well, there was the fast one and there was the slow one."

The only thing Edward had to say about it was "I'm telling Daddy on you." Then he laughed.

I rest my case.

It's the little things ...

It’s been a bittersweet few days here at Bagram. Had the opportunity to escort a Belgian documentary film crew around the base, had one of my pictures make the Air Force “Week in Photos” (www.af.mil/photos/slideshow.asp?id={0B79E04A-1AFB-4339-B660-F0A349E38BB9) and Jennifer and I have made strides in staying better in synch with one another. I’ve taken almost 2,400 pictures here and have four stories done. Professionally, I haven’t felt this fulfilled in almost a year – what I’ve been doing here has been noticed and appreciated and I know I’m contributing in a place that needs me to be here. But throughout all of this, in the quiet moments of the night when I can’t sleep, things get a little more somber. And it’s not just because of the lousy year the Mets are having …

This much closer to the war, the realities of what happens out here become a little more apparent. I’ve talked to a surgeon and a pararescueman about the emergencies to which they’ve responded. I’ve listened to Marines talk about their combat patrols. I’ve spoken to F-15E Strike Eagle aircrews about what they’ve done to provide air support as they’ve listened to the fight on the ground over their radios. And I’ve even heard the stories from a couple of reporters about the firefight they were in just a couple hours from here. But good storytelling is my job and passion – I love a well-told tale. Besides, it gives me more stuff to tell my son, Zachary, who always wants to hear me spin a yarn. And I really think he’s getting sick of my own war stories …

I’ve mentioned the Pat Tillman Memorial USO at Bagram. It’s a great little lodge-looking building where people can go and relax. Like every USO, the people who volunteer there are happy to support the troops. It’s built on the same ground where the passenger terminal used to be – where I was when that afternoon we found out about Pat while watching CNN. But before there was a building for the USO, there was a small closet that USO volunteers used to pass out drinks, treats, magazines, etc., while people waited for flights to parts unknown. Someone’s grandmother was here running it and I’ll never forget how she took my hand in both hers and just said “thank you” as tears welled in her eyes. She was there, in a war-torn country by choice and she was thanking me?! It was then that I decided I’d start actively supporting the USO whenever I could …

My other favorite charity is AnyAirman.com. Like the USO, I’ve also written about AnyAirman (www.af.mil/news/story.asp?id=123030909). Essentially, I’m a point of contact for them while I’m deployed, so when people want to send cards, letters or care packages to just anyone who’s out here, they send them to me and I get them to an Airman who could use the pick-me-up. So if anyone just wants to support deployed Airmen, the USO and AnyAirman.com are the charities I usually advocate. Although these days I usually find myself supporting the efforts against J-BAMS, but JenniferBreaksAllMyStuff is a force that can’t be stopped. My father-in-law tried to warn me, but she’s a really good cook …

Operation Shoebox (http://www.operationshoebox.com/) is another great organization to support deployed troops. They sent about a thousand boxes out here this week for the Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen and Marines at Bagram. We got candy, magazines, crossword puzzles (woo-hoo!), comics pages, cards, letters, flags, gum, Q-tips (which I *just* ran out of), tissues, wet wipes and just a whole host of other things. What they sent us truly made a difference this week for all the folks out here. You’d see people sitting and reading the letters or looking for their favorite candies. The notes inside downplayed their efforts to get us the creature comforts, but really, those “small tokens of appreciation” went a long way here. It reminded me that it’s the little things that really count. And that made me think of 1st Lt. Molly Cook …

Molly Cook was stationed at Seymour Johnson while I was there. It was the week of Thanksgiving 2003 and our office was pushing to get the base newspaper done. I decided to do a “Man on the Street” section and asked “For what are you most thankful?” to a bunch of people. But I refused to accept “My family” or “my kids” or “my wife” as an answer. It took some teeth-pulling, but I finally got some great answers (The Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders, pumpkin pie) and Lieutenant Molly Cook said, “Chocolate. Doesn’t matter what kind – white, milk, dark – just any kind of chocolate.” When the paper came out, she was embarrassed about her answer in print for all to see. But for the next several days, people kept bringing her chocolates and leaving little treats on her desk. Those little kindnesses from people made her smile the whole week. They told that story at her funeral a few months later …

So in those quiet, somber, insomnia-ridden nights, I think of Molly Cook. I try to remember that small efforts like a piece of chocolate were enough to make her smile. I think of the communities in Florida who got together in a high school gym to put together care packages of candies, cards and sundries for thousands of people they’d never met. I think of the grandmothers who volunteered to go to third-world countries just to make sure an Airman had a crossword puzzle while he waited for a flight to Uzbekistan. I think of these things and I remember it’s the little things in life that can make such a big difference …

Penny for your thoughts …

Like a bad penny, Bagram Airfield keeps falling in my path. I was first here in 2004 for about a week and was sitting in the passenger terminal when we found out about Pat Tillman’s death. I came back in 2006 to work for the Army’s 10th Mountain Division. Now I’m here again and much like our home base, it’s odd to see what’s changed and what’s the same. For crying out loud though, they still have the lame wooden shacks for people to live in. In the winter, there’s no drainage, so it floods between the buildings. Then when it freezes, the pools of water ice over. Seriously, you can literally skate from your room to the bathroom when you wake up at two in the morning to go to the bathroom. So it breaks up the monotony of walking at least …

But our team is here to work with the 455th Air Expeditionary Wing Public Affairs office. A good friend and colleague back in D.C., Capt. Dave Faggard, is in charge of the shop, so at least we’re in good company. I went to advanced contingency skills training with him and two of his Airmen before our deployment, so it’s kinda cool to see them again. He and I discuss our career field and its future alot, especially when it comes to the use of social media. He's the guru on it for the Air Force and we see eye to eye on a lot of what needs to be done on both the officer and enlisted side of things. Although the good captain and I have found a way to work out our differences …

Our first story was to cover the military working dogs here. Bagram is unique in that it’s the only base out here where Airmen provide all the perimeter security. Part of that is done by the dog handlers and their canine companions. The folks who work in K-9 units are typically really good folks and are a staple for community relations visits back home. Everyone loves seeing them and their dogs so when we do base tours, we always try to hit up the K-9 folks. They’re also a lot of fun to take pictures with. Except when the handler misses the dog coming out of the tunnel and 80 pounds of German shepherd fury comes barreling at you and your camera, only you don’t see it coming ‘cause you’re just trying to keep the image in focus so it comes as a total shock when the camera slams into your face and you’re on your butt just trying to figure out what the heck just happened. You know, for example …

The other cool story out here is the F-15E Strike Eagles. The squadron out here is one of the squadrons I used to cover back at Seymour Johnson Air Force Base, N.C., so it’s awesome to see those guys again. I actually took pictures of one of the jets during a refueling mission last weekend, so was able to give the squadron a disc of photos, which they loved. They have a sign on their front door that says “The mission is the 18 year old with a rifle. All else is support” and they have a great attitude about providing cover for the guys on the ground. No fighter pilot ego at all; just straight talk about doing what they can to keep troops safe. Because usually, you know how you can tell if a fighter pilot is in a bar? He’ll tell you …

We have a few other missions that we want to cover while we’re at Bagram, so we’ll see how that works out. We’ll be here for a couple more weeks and hopefully cover the Afghan elections, which in a larger sense, is symbolic for why we’re here to begin with. If it works out, we’ll be headed out with the provincial reconstruction team. When I was here last, I did a lot of missions with those guys and it was one of the highlights of my last deployment. We’d go into villages and bring them food, supplies, medicine. I’d bring a bag of candy with me to hand out to kids. It still amazes me that they’d run through snow with no shoes on just to get a Jolly Rancher. Then again, so would my kids. Then again, so would I …

Speaking of the family, Jennifer and I are struggling through communication missteps. The Internet connection here is pretty spotty, so we don’t get to email or instant message each other very much, let alone send photos or anything else. It sometimes takes me ten minutes to open a single email. Other times it can be pretty decent, but it means getting up at 2 in the morning. That’s the one thing that makes deployments easier. We don’t need more bingo games; we need bandwidth …

But when we have been able to talk, we’ve worked out a lot of issues. The time difference (8 ½ hours in Afghanistan) and distance away (a gazillion miles) only compound the usual difficulties that creep up in a relationship. I’m still learning how to be a husband and a dad, and fortunately, everyone has some advice. My “favorite” has been “the first year of marriage is the most difficult,” since Jennifer and I are spending most of ours away from each other …

In the meantime, I’m just trying to stay busy, as it helps the time pass faster. There are lots of good stories about Airmen out here, so I’m just trying to do what I can. And sometimes that means letting the aforementioned 80-pound Doggy of Doom chew on your arm …

Aliens!

I've decided that there's never going to be a 'normal' between now and the time that JG gets home. For one, things keep breaking. And although some of my friends would say that's par for the course, fixing what's broken on my own is not.

With every renovation project or appliance upgrade there's a whole new slue of problems to fix. Why do you think I've taken a break from the bathroom remodel? What if, in the process of replacing the water stoppage valves, I accidentally bust the hose and a plumber needs to come out? Aliens!

And why are Aliens relevant? Well, I always prepare for the worst case scenario complete with backup plans and the need to talk out every possible option for each way things may go array. Usually, by time I get to Plan C, JG will will make the comment "and what if the Aliens come?"

The latest thing to break? The computer chair. It now looks like a lounge chair. I'm typing with perfect posture though.

In addition to things breaking, the kids started school Monday and two weeks before that they started karate. So, that has impacted our weekly routine significantly. In addition to making sure the kids are clean, fed and clothed, I've added getting to karate lessons on time and making sure homework is done each night. Even before these changes, it was, and continues to be, a huge challenge to get out the door on time each morning. On the upside, the kids are busier so they should have less time to dwell on how much they are missing their dad.

I've decided not to ride the metro while JG is deployed. The old routine was to drop the kids off at daycare, drive to the Franconia-Springfield Metro Station, park, catch a train, transfer from the blue to orange line at Rosslyn, take the orange line west to Ballston (heard as Boston to anyone not familiar with the DC Metro), right to my office building. This daily 2.25-hour commute is now only an hour and a half a day thanks to driving. It also gives me a chance to listen to our wedding CD. So, forgoing the metro subsidy I've been paying $95.00 a month for parking at work.

Even the status of my ankle recovery has changed. (For those of you who don't know, I broke both right leg bones down low into the ankle in April 2007 while deployed to Iraq. I've had a total of five surgeries, two of which JG has been with me for within the last year.) My orthopedic surgeon released me from his care last week and my physical therapist said that I've had enough improvement to finally begin the walk-to-run program as I continue physical therapy! For the first time since the original break I've just now been able to put enough pressure on the ball of my foot to gain momentum for the next step. Maybe there's hope for high heels after all?

Lots of little things about my routine has changed. And I'm reminded of this every time JG and I chat online or talk on the phone. There's also a growing amount of frustration on my part which I think can only come from being an active-duty spouse coupled with an unfair double standard. In a general sense, I feel that I'm expected to share every detail about what's going on in my life, with the kids and with the household, however, when I ask 'how was your day' or 'what do you have going on' I get the equivalent of one-word responses. When in reality, if JG said he was covering a particular unit or shadowing a certain subject matter expert or conducting interviews all morning that would be relevant and I would feel like I'm included in knowing about his day-to-day. I don't feel like we are sharing equally with one another. This bothers me.

I find it hard not to get upset when he asks about what's going on at home. Not only do I feel like I'm being deprived of knowing what's going on in his world, he's also making it known how he would do things differently in mine. Am I reading into questions like "how come the car isn't fixed yet?" or "what have you done on the bathroom this week?" and "You're making the kids write every day, right?" or "it looks like you're going out to eat a lot lately. Why?" and "Isn't parking and gas expensive?" Maybe. I try not to let this bother me because I know this makes him feel like he's still involved. My life here is predicable. He knows what my job, for the most part, entails. He knows I work and the boys are in school Monday-Friday. He knows the boys go to karate classes Tuesday nights and again Saturdays. He knows the weekends are spent trying to catch up on chores and getting ready for the next week.

So, no, I'm not content saying to myself like so many civilian spouses that "my husband is deployed so he's really, really busy, but I'll get to hear all about it when he gets home!" We share the exact profession. Knowing what he's doing matters to me. And knowing that he's taking just a few moments to share with me matters even more.

From living both sides of a deployment, being deployed is much easier to deal with. You can be a workaholic without guilt, you only have to worry about your own primal needs and the time passes much, much quicker. Yes, it sucks missing out on your family and I'm not trying to belittle that fact - it comes at a cost. But, while deployed, you're not shouldering the weight of the house and running everything in it while maintaining your own career and doing the home station mission.

So please, if you see the Aliens, tell them to stop breaking our stuff so I can concentrate on more important things.