Buckle Up ...

It certainly has been a bumpy ride this week, more figuratively today, in fact. Speaking of today, this is the one month mark of my deployment, which means I'm 1/6 of the way done. Hey, you take little victories where you can find them ...

And we could certainly use a little victory in our lives right now. Jennifer and I are still in our quandry about life, liberty and the pursuit of a family while still living up to our military obligations. No answers yet on that front. Lots of advice from folks, which is appreciated. My friend Jessica suggested looking at the situation through the eyes of 65-year-old JG and Jennifer and how we'll want to reminisce. My friend Chris echoed those sentiments, only adding the notion of ensuring the wine cellar is stocked. Good call. I could very much use a glass of wine right now in fact ...

We're fortunate enough in this location to get to have a couple of drinks a day. Which is pretty cool for a Muslim country close to a war zone. The wine is okay, but I think it's actually box o' wine. The beer selection is meh. Last time I was here we had Guinness. I seriously need to try to get to Kyrgyzstan again. They have good Russian alcohol. And if there's anyone who knows how to drink ...

But no former Soviet states today. Close though. Today we went on a refueling mission over Afghanistan on board a KC-135 Stratotanker. It was the first trip for my son, Edward's, toy Yoshi, which he was good enough to send to me. See, my last few trips I've had a little green bear wtih me. I would take pictures of LGB everywhere, from Uzbekistan to the DMZ in Korea. But Jennifer suggested instead that now that I've got a family, something new comes with me on my trips to remind me of them. So Yoshi gets to have adventures now. Better than hanging out with a plumber, but maybe not as cool as throwing spikey turtle shells at Toad ...

Actually, our current assignment is pretty cool. We're going up on air refueling missions and then working with the intelligence folks to get details on where the jets we refuel go and what they do. Thus illustrating how tanker operations contribute directly to helping folks on the ground through the use of superior air power. Pretty cool story idea. The lieutenant helping me on the project even rises above the stereotype of military intelligence. Here's to hoping that when I sit down to interview her she rises above the stereotype of lieutenants ...

In the meantime, I'm trying to do some soul searching so I can try to figure out what to do about our lives as a whole. It certainly is asking a lot of our family, immediate and extended, to support us as we continue our military service. Not to mention the toll it takes on a relationship, like missing all the end of the year holidays this year, our first anniversary and the summer next year, as well as the end of year holidays again. In doing the math as it stands now, it will be summer of 2011 before Jennifer and I will have spent more days together since our wedding than apart. It's such a mixed bag of emotions: anger, disappointment, overwhelming sadness. A little more anger ...

We keep looking for the silver lining, and I think it's with the people who support us. Jennifer and I are fortunate to have a group of people who love and care for us and support us in what we do. It means a great deal, especially while one of us is away. But this is the first 30 days done. One month down, five more to go ...

To Be or Not To Be

Dual military that is. The active duty-to-active duty reality hit us harder and faster than expected, on a Monday morning no less.

I've been tasked to deploy just weeks after JG returns from his deployment. He's expected home last week of December or first week of January, then I leave for combat skills training Feb. 9-22 and then report to the AOR (area of responsibility - just a fancy word for 'desert') by March 31.

When I return from my six-month deployment in September 2010, JG will be hot to deploy two months later. And not wussy, worn brick red - we're talking fire engine red. Why? The public affairs enlisted force is sitting at a 1:2 dwell. This means the rate at which we are deploying is 6 months deployed, two 6-month deployment cycles home, then 6 months deployed and so forth.

So, how will the dwell impact our family while I serve the remainder of my commitment through March 2012 and if JG decided to reenlist for another four years in January 2010?

Total months since marriage April 2009 until March 2012 = 36
Months separated by deployment = 23 (not including mandatory deployment training)
Months residing together = 13

What it boils down to is we'll have between 2-4 months of time together between one of us being deployed. Sitting at 16 years of service come March 2012, this deployment analysis above assumes I will deploy again in October 2011 in order to finish the last four years of my career. If I decide to separate at 16 years, I will have an extra five months at home with JG before he deploys again in 2013.

JG can decide to separate in January when he'll have 8 years of service completed, I'll be just shy of 14 years. We want to have another child and we planned on doing so after we PCS'd (moved on to the next assignment/base) and we planned to do this before I turn 34 in January 2012.

"Honey, I need to conceive between the time you get home in January 2010 and April 2011," I say. (This is so sexy, right? Total buzz-killer.)

But wait, he deploys in November 2010 and won't be back till May 2011 so conception needs to happen before then just incase we have trouble getting pregnant.

Conceiving before my deployment right when he gets back will only allow him to be with me for the pregnancy and he'll probably miss the birth and at least the first six months of her life (yes, we are having a girl). She will only be a year old and would only know life with both her parents for four months before I'm deployed again.

The alternative would be to conceive after I return from my deployment in the month of October 2010, then JG would be gone during most of the pregnancy, but would be home for the birth and the first 10-11 months of her life before he deploys again. I would deploy right when the baby turns six months old if our career field is still at a 1:2 dwell.

My fear? Even if JG decides to separate in January, I may decide to separate from the service while I'm pregnant anyway (servicewomen are giving this option, subject to commander approval) and I've just screwed both of us out of a career. Why? It was so hard leaving Zachary at age 6 and Edward at age 2 for a deployment ... I can't imagine how painful it will be to leave Baby Girl at the fun phase of eating 'solid' food.

And these scenarios don't even begin to cover all things considered. Our assignment manager is telling us to expect orders when JG comes back from his deployment. Added pressure logistically to get the house ready to rent (another blog to follow on the rennovations) and juggle my training requirement, family bonding and a PCS move between January-February or worse, left to JG to handle alone after I'm gone.

Granted, JG can decline the assignment by separating, but then we run into being stationed at virtually every Air Force base that has a public affairs office. This means we could end up at a less-than-desirable location such as obscure bases to go unnamed in the Midwest (no offense, but no thank you) since only one career needs to be accommodated, not two. (We cannot work in the same office where one of us would have any authority over the other. This becomes a non-issue if the assignment manager only needs to accommodate one career.)

Since we are at a 1:2 dwell, are they bringing back reenlistment bonuses for public affairs? (If so, it's important to note that if you reenlisted while deployed you get to keep the 20 percent that's normally deducted for taxes.)

Could one of us possibly get a joint assignment (as in working for a command or unit made up of all the military services) or an Air Force special duty assignment that's considered 'non-deployable' so that we are able to spend 12 months together as a family while only one of us deploys?

What will all these deployments do to our boys? Do we choose our careers over having a baby? Do we postpone having a baby and accept the health risks of me carrying a baby in my late thirties?

If we do stay in, what are our career options? With a critically-manned career fields it's almost impossible to break away four to six years to become first sergeants, professional military education instructors or basic military training instructors. They would also just as unlikely grant permission for us to cross train into a different career field altogether.

There are so many unanswered questions right now. JG and I are left absolutely heartbroken over the situation. And you know what? I'm angry. No, I take that back. I'm pissed.

How did the career field I've been apart of my entire career succumb to this? I had volunteered for deployments as an airman at my first assignment at Kelly AFB, Texas, and at my second assignment as a staff sergeant at Eielson AFB, Alaska, but didn't get to go. Those were the days when the folks in the same deployment 'bucket' used to fight over deployments. Now it's 'where are you going?' not 'do you get to go this time?'

At my third assignment I had my first deployment ever as an 11-year technical sergeant. In contrast, JG who joined right after 9-11 is now on his fourth deployment. For years we've been on the 'critical list' with career fields you may expect like security forces and EOD. I would have loved to have seen the look on the at-the-time Air Force Chief of Staff's face the first day Public Affairs appeared on that briefing slide. You have to wonder if the other general officers around the table chuckled. And I'm seriously asking: Has anyone outside of Air Force Public Affairs (up the chain) taken this seriously?

I have three friends in immediate proximity, all OUTSTANDING public affairs NCOs, who have made the decision to separate. Each are in a different phase of that process with one now a member of the Air Force Reserve and my response to each of them was 'I can't imagine being in a position to have to make such a hard decision.' Ladies, I still can't imagine because I am still in shock.

If Air Force leadership assures Public Affairs leadership they are legitimately trying, well, maybe I can too. But today, I'm discouraged, I'm confused, I miss my husband and the boys miss their Dad. For the first time in my adult life I'm questioning if my personal values and Air Force values are in alignment. Air Force Public Affairs will somehow manage through the new steady state of the 2000s, but how will the Buzanowski family?

Ta-Ta to Taji ...

Out of the frying pan (105 degrees, Camp Taji, Iraq) and into the fire (115 degrees, home base), but we're back and out of the Iraq. Before we left, I decided to go on a photo safari around the area to give a better idea about what life was like there. For instance, unless it's a living area or a road, there is very little that's paved. But it's a friggin desert, so it's not like there's a lot of grass either. No, instead we have lovely rocks to walk on. Rocks are better when they're used for a hot stone massage. But that will have to wait until I get home. Or at least Kyrgyzstan ...

There were lots of things that stood out for me walking around Taji. For one, a lot of their internal security is provided by third-country nationals. Basically, they hire folks from other countries to come in and man gates and whatnot. And they're really good at it. Friendly without letting their guard down. And willing to teach you a smidgen of their language if you ask. Jambo! Another thing that got me while at Taji were the "speed bumps." I mean, they may LOOK like they're tank treads streteched across the road, but no, those are the speed bumps. And they work. In fact, the only thing that would work better? An actual tank ...

But they've got those too. In fact, they call it The Petting Zoo. In a secluded and heavily guarded part of the base, there's tons of old Iraqi army equipment that they're taking apart and destroying or recycling. In addition to rows of tanks and trucks, there were shipping containers filled with old beat up rifles and such. But in one conatainer was the collection of special weapons. Lots of stuff from gold-plated weapons to 1800s-era flintlocks to crossbows to homemade rocket launchers, the collection was eerily odd. I mean, I'm no gun nut (I prefer swords, natch) but after all the hours I spent playing GoldenEye 007 on the Nintendo 64, well ... I'm the Man with the Golden Guns ...

But I know some folks wanted to know more about the practical side of life at Taji. Like most bases around Southwest Asia, there is water everywhere. Cases of it everywhere you look. In some places, you have to bring it into the bathroom with you to brush your teeth since the water, for the most part, isn't potable. But in Iraq, the bottles come in liters. The water's not bad, as long as you can wash it off before you drink it. Dirt plus water equals drinking mud. And if you want to drink mud, well, that's what the coffee shops are for ...

We had great places to stay, if you don't mind the view of a concrete wall from your room. I know those are there to protect against shelling and whatnot, because nothing is worse than walking on shattered glass. Just ask John McLane. What they should do is paint scenic vistas on the other side of the concrete walls, then it has the illusion of a room with a view! We also had a place to shower and go to the bathroom. But for crying out loud, they need better reading material than issues of Maxim from a year ago. It wasn't the issue date that was bad, but the least they could get is Entertainment Weekly, Sports Illustrated or something decent. Heck, even a Highlights would have puzzles to help pass the time. Then again, if you're reading Maxim and run out of toilet paper ...

Our team flew out on an Iraqi helicopter and that time we were the first stop, not the last, so we made it just fine. No vomit or anything! Once back in Baghdad, the local combat camera folks took care of us. Had a few hours to powernap and get on a flight. Fortunately, we were able to get out late that night on a C-130 Hercules. Much thanks to the Minnesota Reserve unit out of the Twin Cities for getting us the heck out of there so we didn't have to wait until the following day for a ride that would in all likelihood have been far more cramped than we were. For those who've never flown on one, seats on a C-130 are metal pipes with thin material spread over them, with the same thin material stitched into a cargo net for the seatback. There's not a single way to get comfortable in the things. Some revelations from our flight:

- Body armor does not make a good pillow

- Neither does a helmet

- Nor, as my cohort Mike Keller pointed out, does a rifle

- The only thing that sleeps on a C-130 is your butt

So the other thing I discovered is that my three-year-old iPod doesn't last two hours on its own. So I need a new iPod. If this trip is any indicator, we have plenty of waiting in passenger terminals in our future. The one in Baghdad had a TV in it, but they were showing the horrible "Fantastic Four" movie. Correction, they were playing the horrible first one, not the horrible sequel. In fact, a revelation: Comic book movies are never just "okay." They are either very good or very, very bad. For every "Fantastic Four" or "Daredevil" or "Catwoman," there's a "Spider-Man" or "X-Men" or "Dark Knight." Revelation, supplemental: A comic book trilogy in which the first two films are really good, the third movie will outright stink. There's a lot of downtime while you're waiting for a flight and your iPod is dead ...

You can check out any time you want ...

So I puked in the helicopter. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Our time here at Camp Taji is coming to a close. I've got a half dozen stories and took about 800 photos. The Airmen here have been fantastic in helping us get what we need, whether it's a place to crash, interviews, a vehicle, whatever. Much thanks to Tech. Sgt. Rico and Lt. Col. McNerney. And to the dining facility that always had Cocoa Puffs. They're my new comfort food out here. Not the healthiest of snacks, but it's got the riboflavins ...

Our job here was to cover the Airmen who are assisting the Iraqis as they get back on their feet. We spoke with guys working on the mission support side of things and they really seem to have things together. On the operations side, where they're flying helicopters day and night, things are a little slower to progress. But there's promise. All in all, it's been a pretty good mission, with good people, quality stories and a room with a bed instead of a tent with a cot and 20 other people in it with all their gear and no way to lock up our belongings so you never know if you'll come back to find your stuff gone or sold on eBay. I've heard stories ...

So really, I'm not in a rush to leave. In fact, had a couple of moments I'll never forget. While talking with an Iraqi lieutenant, he asked me how I could help him start a base newspaper. He wants to be able to get information out to his troops. Told him I would talk to some folks and see what we could do. But there's no Air Force public affairs presence here; it's an additional duty given to one of the gunnery instructors. But that's a different issue altogether ...

A day later I'm having lunch and next to me is one of our own lieutenant colonels reading Stars And Stripes while he eats. So I ask him what base he's from and if he reads the paper back home. "Oh, no, absolutely not," he tells me. Which I find intriguing, considering how he's pouring through his copy of Stripes. After talking with him a bit more, for him it's a credibility factor with his base newspaper back home. With Stripes he knows he's getting reporting from the Fourth Estate instead of "What the wing commander wants me to know about." Which puts me in a really difficult place, and I don't mean the back of a Volkswagen ...

On one hand, an Iraqi officer wants an avenue to communicate via mass media with his troops. On the other, one of our officers only wants news and information from an outside source not part of the military. So if what we, in our career field, try to communicate to our own internal audience already has a bias against it, how do we get past that bias and reach people? I really don't have the answer, but really, I just found the dichotomy of my conversations good food for thought. Funnily enough, tastes like chicken ...

We're getting ready to head back to our home base. We tried to get back Sunday night, but ran out of gas and had to come back to Taji. Where I had aformentioned room with bed still waiting for me. Yeah, I was real broken up about it ...

The back of the Mi-171 helicopter was hot and the exhaust from the engines was blowing inside. We spent the first 90 minutes practicing maneuvers, so lots of ups and downs and banks and whatnot. I'd never thrown up on a flight before. But there I am with the little plastic bag, desperately trying not to spew all over my body armor or anything else. I'd made it three hours just feeling horribly nauseous. I was trying to keep my mind off it, but it's funny when you feel queasy how memories of other times you felt that way come flooding back. Like that night after too much rice pudding at the Lebanese restaurant in Doha where Major (now Lt. Col.) Dave Honchul wouldn't stop to let me buy a new shirt before we went through the checkpoint to get back on base so I had to sit there with sick all over the front of me ...

So the plan is for us try to get out of here in the next few days. We'll see how that works out. Honestly, I could stay here for another month and be happy. Except that I have care packages waiting for me and I really would like to be someplace where I'm not paying $20 a week for Internet access. So that's the pot at the end of the rainbow. Unfortunately, however, it means we have to go back through Baghdad. This time I'll remember to bring breadcrumbs so I can make it back from the latrine instead of accidentally walking into someone else's room. They're called door locks, people ...

Hot Air

So, the Home Depot total for bathroom remodeling just passed the 400-dollar mark. Why did I get discourage and stop my exact cost factoring? Two trips to the Home Depot Tuesday night to fix the dryer vent, which doesn't even travel through the bathroom.

You know when an old appliance is moved you get a chance to clean the floor before they put the new one in? Well, I wanted to clean out the vent. It travels above the boys' room before going to the outside and on laundry day their room is at least 20 degrees warmer than the rest of the house. A couple weeks ago I had inspected the dryer vent from the outside while the dryer was running and air was not coming out, so I figured there was too much lint built up inside.


I stick my hand up the ratty-looking elbow - layers of caulk and nasty duct tape and start to pull out some fuzz. I stick my hand up further and realize I've just run out of pipe. I felt lint coated on dryer lint all over the ceiling's sheet rock, all over the insulation and the electrical wires in a two-foot radius all around the 4-inch vent hole in the ceiling.

After some more feeling around I discover the vent duct more than away from where the elbow had been dangling. I was pissed. I've never seen such a half-ass job. Oh, wait. Yes, I have. The original PVC toilet flange was installed wrong making the bolts poke through two tiny holes instead of the long curved slots where the bolts are supposed to slip in straight down. Oh, and the sheet rock and cement board gap for the underpar shower tile job.

Needless to say I killed the laundry monster's nesting spawn then cut a bigger hole in the ceiling to fix the problem. Any you know what? I gave up. Luckily my friend Heather has more patience than I and was able to figure out that if we cut a foot off the 5" vent part it would angle into the ceiling and over the existing 4" one.

I all but jumped for joy when, for the first time ever, the Buzanowski home had mechanically-made hot air blowing through that vent.

Samurai Cape, Ornery Snake

Back at the home front, it was a busy weekend. Friday night Martha, JG's mom, breezed in on for two nights on her way up to Long Island. She spent two days killing the laundry monster. The last load was put in at 3 a.m. Sunday morning just a couple hours before she headed north again. It marked the end of the 30 efficiency-sized loads that cycled through the basket-thumping washer. Luckily the new washer and dry get here this week.

Saturday morning Martha watched the boys while I went to the Tile Shop's 9:30 a.m. installation class. After learning about all the new tools I'm going to have to buy, I studied the ins and outs of prepping for and setting liquid cement. See, the floor isn't level. With walls left to patch and paint, shower grout to remove and a window to strip next on the to-do list I excused myself from class knowing that tiling was another two weeks away.

When I got home it was time to get Edward motivated for his trial karate lesson. I almost cancelled it because he was throwing a fit about going. "Karate is not my favorite thing," he said. This is the same child who watches Samurai Jack, plays the Samurai Jack PlayStation 2 game and wears his pre-school graduation robe as a cape when he goes in the backyard with his 'katana' to fight his light saber-wielding big brother.

We arrive United Studios of Self Defense dojo and Edward goes from whiny to super-shy. He followed directions and was smiling the whole time. As soon as we got home he asked to watch his yellow belt instructional DVD.

Zachary is already a yellow belt. Unfortunately we had to pull Zachary out of karate last fall because he was struggling so badly with his homework. The school tested Zachary and found out he had a learning disability. Between the phonics tutoring through his after school program and the school making him an individual education program I'm optimistic he'll be able to manage schoolwork and his hobby. The busier I keep the boys the less time they will have to miss their Dad.

The dojo is just a block away. Right across the street from the kids' dentist. They both have their six-month cleaning this week and good timing because Zachary has a loose molar. It's driving him crazy. Therefore it's driving me crazy.

After going out for lunch the boys and I went down for a nap. I was out cold for two hours. I could have slept through the entire night. But, it was time for a commissary and base exchange trip to pick up things for the next round of care packages.

That night for dinner I made eggs, real bacon and hash browns - you know the ones you bake in the oven that looked like they came from McDonald's? Mmmm.

Sunday morning Uncle Mike and Aunt Clare came over. Mike's kids from California and my boys went to the pool with Clare while Mike and I hit Home Depot for more supplies. Industrial sized stripper, gloves, flange repair parts, two fence posts, mini piece of sheet rock, wallboard compound, door jam, nails, chalk line, tile spacers and joint tape.

Later on, after pretending to help Mike fix the hole where wall and baseboard used to be between the tub and sink, I went back to Home Depot en route for pizza. I needed a Flathead screwdriver. Only costing 89 cents I had to by the matching Phillips head. I also picked up a new razor blade tool after discovering the tile boarder around the tile was placed over sheet rock, not cement board and there was a half inch gap between the two. I need to remove the tile boarder all the way around and do something decorative that won't crack on the sheet rock.

Mike was JG's best man at the wedding. Also, a professional studio photographer Mike shot our engagement photos. (Scroll way down at the bottom of the blog. See the piggy-back photo? Mike shot that.) At our rehearsal dinner we had our family sign the matte and the next day displayed the framed photo at the ballroom's entrance to our wedding reception. It was also at the rehearsal that Clare brought me a corsage and she read us the note that JG gave to Mike and Clare on their wedding day. It was extremely sweet.

Sunday ended with feeding Indy, named after Indiana Jones, JG's ball python who is about 11 or 12 years old. He's had her since she was a baby. She had grabbed the rat in the lower abdomen and it took longer than normal to cinch the kill. I was really afraid the rat was going to bite Indy. The second rat must have just passed out. When Indy let it go to align herself to swallow him, the rat started breathing again, then stood up and started walking around. Indy didn't seem care and ignored it. Monday night, Indy finished eating without incident.

So this is what Iraq is like ...

Baghdad, Iraq July 8, 2009

The flight in was crowded. Typically is on a C-130. Wouldn’t be so bad if we weren’t all laden with body armor, helmets, weapons and gear. But this is a warzone, right? In fact, there’s something of an awakening for me on this trip so far, and we aren’t even a day into it. There’s just a sense of exhaustion about this place. Everyone seems tired of being here and is most focused on just cleaning up and leaving. There are some loose ends around the country, and that’s why our team is here ...

The dust storm delayed a lot of our getting here, but once we landed, it really wasn't that bad. The base we’re on was near the airport. Lots of folks coming in and out still. The installation itself is just a bunch of bases next to, on top of, inside of and around each other. It reminds me of New York City in the way it’s laid out. Sather Air Base is separate from Camp Victory, is separate from BIAP (that’s Baghdad International Airport), is separate from Camp Stryker or Camp Slayer. I’d liken Victory being like Queens, but we wouldn’t know anything about victory in Queens these days ... friggin' Mets ...

So the local Combat Camera folks here showed us to our rooms. Which were … somewhere. Everything looked the same. The same 12-foot tall concrete walls, the same pre-fab trailer buildings. I got lost coming back from the bathroom and walked into some other dude’s room. He was watching a movie and didn’t even bat an eye when I opened the door. Must happen a lot, this getting lost and randomly walking into people’s rooms. But other than that, we stayed in buildings, two per room. Better than a tent ...

Camp Taji, Iraq July 12, 2009

So this is what it's like to be in a war that's been funded for several years. The base exchange is huge, there are several fast food vendors, the local bazaar is great, the dining facilities are enormous and offer just an amazing variety of food options. Afghanistan was NOTHING like this. For that matter, Baghdad was nothing like Camp Taji ...

There are about 50 Airmen here (LOTS more Army) and they have a little compound thats walled in, which isn't as bad as it sounds. They've really created a nice little community for themselves here. It honestly wouldn't be that bad to do a tour here. Except that there's no PA position ... yet ...

The Airmen here are in training and advising roles. It's bittersweet because these guys have two years to get the Iraqi air force trained to take over maintenance, gunnery and flying operations. They'll be expected to support their army brethren the way we provide air power for our sister services. And they're coming along in a lot of ways in some of the occupations. But in others ...

I say bittersweet because most of the Airmen at Taji are here for a year and don't expect replacements. We want to be done. But there's still a lot of work to do. One Airmen put it this way: The harder we work, the sooner the Iraqis will be in a place to take over the reins for themselves and the sooner we don't have to deploy here every other year...

So they realize it's on them to do it correctly now. I just wonder if this end date had been set earlier if we would have adopted the mindset to get it done. The open-endedness seems to have been more of a hindrance. But it's good that we've set an end date nontheless. This way we know what needs to be done and absolutely by when. Kind of like this being the last season of "Lost." January can't come soon enough, in more ways than one ...

We'll be at Taji for another week and our hope is that we didn't get the best assignment of our tour right off the bat. The folks here have been great. We have rooms instead of tents, we've got our own vehicle to get around the installation and we're right near the dining facility. Couldn't have asked for a better start. Except we still have to go back through Baghdad ...

Off we go ...

Today we launch out on our first mission. Our hope is to cover Airmen in Iraq as they help train the Iraqi air force and help with the transition to keep their own country secure. All in all some good stories as our folks are right in the middle of helping with this important and necessary endeavor ...

On my team are two other staff sergeants - Anthony Stone, our videographer, and Mike Keller, the photographer. My role is to do the majority of the writing and some backup photo work when I can. The trio of us will be working together for the duration of our time out here, so we're getting to know each other pretty well ...

Anthony is married and he and his wife are hoping to have a baby when he gets home. Mike's already got a quartet of kids. I can't imagine ...

As we've been getting ready to go out, I've started thinking about what I'm going to miss the most over the next several months. Here's my list, in no particular order:

- Jennifer, Zachary and Edward
- My wife's cooking
- My PlayStation
- Going to the movies
- Privacy
- Five Guys Burgers and Fries
- My friends
- The color green
- Best Buy and Barnes & Noble
- A bathroom closer than 176 steps away

Other than being hot and drab, Southwest Asia is dusty, hazy and humid. Everything is covered in a layer of ick and it's difficult to keep a clean work area, let alone anything else. Fortunately there are bottles of water EVERYWHERE. It's easy to keep hydrated, and in fact, is necessary with the weather. But it's especially frustrating to wake up at 2 in the morning and have to get dressed, put on a reflective belt, tuck in the shirt, put on shoes and then walk all the way to the bathroom. Ugh ...

I'm looking forward to my first foray into the Iraq. Going around to villages and provincial reconstruction teams in Afghanistan was rewarding because I got to see first hand how our efforts were making a difference. People were appreciative and we were welcomed everywhere we went. We helped a lot of people. I'm curious to see if Iraq will be anything like that now ...

When I left Afghanistan and Pakistan, I took home vivid memories of the children there - snowball fights, soccer games, handing out candy. Going to the villages was the best part of my last deployment. That was why I volunteered for this gig. Our mission is to travel to wherever there are Airmen helping Iraqis and Afghans rebuild their respective country. If I have to suffer six months of no Five Guys, terrible weather and missing my youngest starting kindergarten, at least it's for a worthwhile cause I believe in ...

Fireworks

In the past 24 hours I've made three trips to the Home Depot and one trip to the Tile Store at the bargain price of $259.16. After admiring how beautiful the tile was, I ripped out every thing from the walls, including the medicine cabinet. The toilet and sink are unserviceable. The tank is empty and I managed to get the faucet out. The cabinet doors are off and in a stripping process. I even removed the window blind so I can prep around the window for painting. Then it hits me. I no longer have my own bathroom until the remodel is over. If that's not motivation, I don't know what is.

The bathroom remodel feels like the only thing I have any control over. I can't tell you how good it felt to rip everything out of the walls. I wasn't thinking about anything - my mind was focused on the task at hand. Last night was the first since JG left that I slept through the night.

I took a bunch of photos of the bathroom to share today, but I didn't have any luck downloading the USB software for my new cellphone onto the computer. Hopefully I can figure it out soon - you'll know if I'm eventually successful when photos magically appear one day on this post.

JG's new phone came in the mail this week. We don't have good luck with phones - luckily we have insurance. Last summer when we visited my mom, Judy, in Massachusettes my phone fell out of JG's pocket on Six Flag's Superman or Batman ride. Then just last month his phone fell out of my backpack when we were at Hershey Park. It cracked then one of the hinges busted out.

The kids had a blast at Hershey Park. The four of us had our family portrait done - characature style. Each holding a light saber with the Death Star in the distance. It's framed and mounted in the livingroom kitty-corner to our engagement photo.

About the time the engagement photo was taken I purchased stamps for the wedding invitations. I bring this up because the gentleman who sold me the Forever stamps was the same gentleman I've kept past closing at the post office twice this week. Did you know Express Mail to Alaska sent Wednesday from Virginia won't arrive until Monday? I had to send their DMV my original SSN card, original marriage certificate, copy of my military ID and my LES to get my last name updated on my driver's license. For the fun of it I also checked the box 'motorcycle permit' to see if I could get one without having to do anything else. Will I actually drive a motorcycle? Doubtful, but at least my curiousity will be satistfied.

Then Thursday JG's first care package got mailed. We each put something special in there for him. Zachary made a card, Edward packed Yoshi and I printed a photo of the boys and wrote him a poem. One day last summer JG gave Yoshi to Edward after he pulled him out of a box at the storage unit. Just before he left, JG asked Edward if he could take Yoshi with him. See, JG used to have a little green bear that he took with him on all his previous deployments. The bear traveled with JG and had its photo taken at landmarks all over the world. The bear was lost shortly after we moved in last summer. We've tried desperately for months to find him but to no avail. I'm hoping Yoshi gets there before JG travels to Iraq for the first time.

It's almost dark - time to take the boys to the Air Force Memorial to watch the fireworks. I'll be daydreaming about our wedding day.

But it's a fry heat ...

As in, you could fry an egg. On the sidewalk. In the shade. But it could be worse; I could be in Mississippi ...

According to the thermometer, it's 117 degrees. It's difficult to actually relate what that means. Spouting off triple digit temperatures is just a metaphor for "hot." I mean, really, what is the difference between 112, 117, 120? It's all just friggin hot ...

Except at night, when it cools down to 95 ...

The heat here is oppressive. Worse, the sun reflects off everything and becomes blinding as well. I keep flashing back to my first time here, which was five years ago. I was but an Airman 1st Class at the time and was here with some great folks. I'll have to dig out a photo ...

It's amazing to see what's still around, what's changed dramatically and the finished products of what was under construction back in 2004. My room is decent (at least it's a room and not a tent, or a rathole like I had in Afghanistan). In fact, the building I'm in is close to where I stayed last time. Ah, if these walls could talk. Then again, not sure I'd want to hear what they have to say ...

But this trip seems promising as well. I'm hoping to head out next week to Iraq to cover efforts to train their air force and help them rebuild. Great story. It'll also be my first trip to Iraq, so that should be fun ...

Deployments always give me a great chance to catch up on reading. And with all the traveling we'll be doing, there promises to be a lot of downtime in passenger terminals. Which sounds more impressive than it is. Out here a passenger terminal can be everything from a shack to a small room with wooden walls ...

So I'm reading "Catcher in the Rye" currently. It's one of those standard books that have always been on my to-do list, but I've never gotten around to it. After this will be the "Mark Twain" biography and after that I think I'm going to switch to movies and buy the HBO "John Adams" series. Heard nothing but good things ...

For the record, the temperature needs to actually be 158 to fry an egg. Note to Mother Nature: that's not a challenge ...

Deployment Eve

Our last family dinner we took Zachary, 8, and Edward, 4, to our favorite restaurant for the first time - JR's Stockyards Inn in McLean.

The restaurant has always been a special place for the two of us to enjoy great wine, melt-in-your mouth red meat and intimate conversation. Our first dinner as husband and wife, still dressed as bride and groom, was at JR's. It was also here that we took his mother, Martha, to break the news that our dog Judy, the boys and I were moving into JG's two bedroom, two bathroom condo, just weeks after our first date.

About a week before JG left, Zachary inquired about where we go on our dates and said that he wanted us to go on a date as a family. We decided to share our special place with the boys. To our delight they were so well behaved. Both ordered the 8 oz prime rib cooked medium rare. Edward finished his entire place and half of his chocolate cake! Zachary ate all but a third of his steak plus a side salad (minus croutons and some lettuce) and a chocolate & white chocolate mousse.

During dinner I could barely look across the table at JG without getting teary. I know how lucky I am and how much I was going to miss him. The last two days have been the hardest for me, evident by my meltdown on Facebook yesterday. I'm overextended in all aspects of my life right now - the stress of single motherhood again, arranging for desperately-needed home repairs and upgrades, and a 50% manpower cut in my immediate work section. In between life as I know it now, how do I maintain closeness with my husband and share things with him without causing him to worry?

Monday, Zachary told me he missed Dad. It was so great to know he was talking about JG and not his 'father.' Zachary said he was sad that Dad was going to miss the beginning of third grade. Yesterday, Edward was talking about how Daddy is gone for six weeks. I corrected him and said six months. "Yeah - that's like 20 days," said Edward. I kept saying "after Christmas." Let it snow.