First day of His Last Year of School = Nightmare

DS is a senior this year, and we just moved to Louisiana, so he is in a brand new school.

He has to wear uniforms for the first time ever, and he is not happy about that He is truly and independent spirit, but he seems ok with it now that he's been in school a day.

This morning he gets up, and he is in a panic. Full blown anxiety attack. He doesn't know exactly where the bus stop is - just that it is on the corner. He doesn't know where exactly to get his schedule. He doesn't know where the bus to the technical school will be. Nothing too major, but all together it was just too much.

After getting him calmed down I took him to school. He was ok by the time we got there. Not great, but not panicked.

I go home, and eat breakfast. I'm about to head out to the doctor when I get a call. First, there is more than one "wall" where the schedules are. He finds his, and then goes to ask a teacher where the bus is for the tech school for his Sports Medicine class. She shows him. He gets on the bus and verifies that it is the bus for "Name of City" Technical School. "Yes, this is it."

Yeah, not so much! He said he knew he was in the wrong place when on the ride there the students start talking about how many Yeagerbombs (sp?) they had last night, and how Scotch is good to drink. It doesn't burn your throat after the first few sips. Then the kids are telling him backpacks are not allowed...HUH? We asked about that, and they are... so???? Then someone tells him he is wearing the wrong color shirt, but "we will let you live for one day." (jokingly, I hope)

Then he arrives at the school and the bus driver starts telling all of the students to not hang around and talk after school at 2:00 because they will miss their ride home. 2:00?? He supposed to be back at his home school at lunch time. He doesn't even try to go to class, and heads straight to the office. They sent him to the alternative school. For troublemakers. My child who has never even so much as had detention or a phone call home for that matter.

He calls me, and the counselor gives me directions on how to get there. (We're totally new here, remember). I get there after spending half of the ride going "This can't possibly be right. This is a rough looking neighborhood. I must be in the wrong place". Nope right place.

I get there, find him and call his counselor at his school to let her know what is going on. She felt soooo bad, and she gave me directions to where he is supposed to be, and called the other school to let them know what is going on. He's supposed to be testing this morning since we weren't here last year. We get there. They are expecting him. All's good...for now.

I now go to the doctor. Got lost...twice. Gas light comes on while lost. Get stuck at a train crossing. I make it there and home. Whew.

DS goes back to his school at lunch time. Misses lunch and half of his first class because you only get your first class at "the wall". He is pinged back and forth between the counselors office, the library and the vice principals office.

One of the classes he has to take is all Freshman because it is a class they do in their Senior year in Virginia. One of the kids starts picking on him...He stands up to get his book, another kid tells the first kid to shut up before he (DS) beats the C*** out of him. DS is very broad shouldered and built more like full grown man than a high school student. First kid shuts up, and doesn't pick on him anymore.

The good news is he likes all of his teachers, his counselor is wonderful, and things have to go UP from here...right?

This was like the nightmare first day for him. I feel so bad. We went to pick up the last few school supplies, and he kept asking for things, and finally I said, "Are you taking advantage of the fact that I feel so bad for you?" "No mom, really." Riiiiiight.

Sometimes We Just Have to Wait

My husband and are coming up on a new season in life: retirement from the military. Being a life-long dependant, to say that I am afraid of the future would be an understatement. Logically I know we will be fine. We will have his retirement income, once I get to the last duty station next month I can get a job, we have great, loving families, and most importantly, though sometimes it feels abstract, we have a loving God. A God whose "eye is on the sparrow".

Even with all this, I find myself not only praying, but begging God to please show me everything will be fine. And he has. He has spoken to me through his word, through radio programs with timely messages, and through songs that speak directly to my heart. Still, I crave more. I have come to the realization that not only do I want things to be fine, but I want them to fit in my vision for our lives. Frankly, my vision may not be God's truth for our lives, and I need to accept that. I don't want to, but I need to.

I guess I am afraid of living in poverty. I want our own home. After 20+ years of military housing I want a place to call our own, and I want a place that is nice and I can be proud of. Not extravagant, but nice. Probably a bit bigger than we need, but I want a place where friends and family can visit, and they can have their own space. Their own place to go without feeling as if they have displaced us from our rooms. I want to go to bed at night without worrying about money. I want to replace bad tires without worrying about where the money is coming from. I want to support our son through college. I'm afraid God's plan for our life won't match this. I automatically assume that if our lives aren't like this we will be living a life of poverty. Why? My vision is not that we will be living like Hollywood's rich and famous. In fact, it is firmly entrenched in the middle class. God's vision could be greater than my dreams. (Even as I type that my thoughts are "but I doubt it". Will I ever learn?"

I wish God would flat out show me what is in store for our lives, but I have to wait. And trust. Trust does not come easily for me. He did flat out show me this week one thing...I have to wait.

Michael had a situation at work this week that hurt him, and broke my heart for him. Since he is not shy at all, he decided to confront the situation head on. While praying for his situation, I begged God, in tears, to please speak to me through His word, comfort me, and show me that in this situation everything would be fine. I read the intended scripture for that night desperately searching for anything that could apply to this situation, but God was silent. Nothing seemed to fit, so I fretted.

The next morning Michael called. Everything is fine. It was all a great misunderstanding...a miscommunication. He was happy. I could hear it in his voice.

Later, while thinking over this in my mind, I heard, "Sometimes you just have to wait." Sometimes the wait will be short to know the answer to your prayers. Sometimes, though, it will feel like forever. Still, we just have to wait...

Complaining, Grumbling and Growing Faith

It is amazing how we can see, hear or read something over and over again, and all of a sudden it is like you never read it before. This is what happened last night while reading Exodus chapter 16. Specifically Exodus 16:8b.

In this chapter the Israelites are complaining to Moses and Aaron about not having enough food, and "wishing" they were back in Egypt. Then you come to verse 8b "...the Lord has heard your grumbling that you grumble against him-what are we? Your grumbling is not against us but against the Lord."

Your grumbling is against the Lord.

We, as a society, are quick to complain, and I know I am guilty. Waiting in line...complain, Don't make as much money as you would like...complain, Life not going the way you think it should...complain. The list goes on and on and on. We complain about people complaining, but is this complaining accomplishing anything? Or are we complaining to complain. Are we complaining to make change, or to gain sympathy?

When we complain to blow smoke we aren't complaining against the store, our family, our friends, the government. We are complaining against God... God who knows what is best for us, and wants the best for us. Instead of gleaning what God's purpose could be in any given situation, our first impulse is to grumble. What a perfect stumbling block to our growth in faith.

Earlier this year we learned that Michael will be retiring 2 years earlier than we had planned. My first inclination was to rail against the Air Force. Why? Because, frankly, I'm scared. I do not like the unknown, and I do not like change. The Air Force is our Egypt. It is familiar; it is comfortable, and even though there are hard times, it is home, but it is time to leave.

The last couple of months I have been trying to trust God. Trying not to complain, or focus on the negative. I am trying to trust that God has a plan for us. A plan that is better than we can imagine. Trust...that we are being shoved out of the nest that is the Air Force,...so that we can live out God's plan for our lives.

I need to trust God's plan, not complain that God's plan doesn't coincide with what my plan was.

Ella

Michael's Gone Syndrome Part 3 Final Update--I HOPE

Michael is due back in the states in just 2 short days, and let me tell you it can't come soon enough. Since my last update just about everything that can go wrong-has!

1. We found out that Brendan will have to have a bone graft in his hand. We are only waiting to find out if it will come from his wrist or his hip. We are hoping for wrist since that will mean the damage isn't as bad as it could be.

1a. Because of said surgery Brendan will not be able to get his fire fighting certification. He will still get his college credits, but he will have to basically start over to get certified because the doctor has put the cabash on any and all physical activity involving his wrist, and he put a cast up to his elbow to ensure his compliance. Well, maybe it was to stablize the wrist, and to keep it from getting any further damage, but the result is he has to comply with doctor's orders.

2. Something is wrong with my van. My guess? EGR valve, so I have to get that fixed. Cost??? Don't know doesn't really matter because it has to be fixed.

3. Windshield of Michael's car was hit by a flying rock. Normally this would result in a chip that could be repaired, but following the rules of "Michael's Gone Syndrome" the rock hit, and the windshield immediately had a crack over a foot long.

4. The Exceptional Family Member office here neglected to tell us they decided I have enough health issues of the right type to warrent enrollment in the program. No big deal, right? WRONG! Along with not telling us I was enrolled they also did not tell us that meant in order for me to move to Barkdale with my family I have to be approved by the gaining hospital. This means another physical, just 2 weeks after my last physical, and a dental appointment.

Again, no big deal excecpt for the fact that they need all of this paperwork, a meeting with the medical board, and they have to send it to Barksdale who has 14 business days to respond. Ok, I couldn't even get a dentist appointment for almost a month, and that was after begging. They were going to make me wait 2 months. When I went to turn in the dental paperwork no one was even in the office early on a Thursday afternoon, and no one would be back until Monday. This was just 9 days ago. The paperwork didn't even get sent to Barksdale until Monday or Tuesday. Michael will be home in 2 days, and I still am not authorized to travel. This is the Air Force's idea of expediting the paperwork. Good thing they are trying to hurry or I might not be able to move until Christmas--of 2012.

5. Finally, the most stress inducing situation of all, the Air Force has decided to change high year tenure. Which in a nutshell means instead of retiring in 3 years, which was the plan we were following, Michael will be retiring in 1 year, unless he makes Senior. Then we will be back to the 3 year plan. I never realized how short one year was until trying to condense 3 years of finanical and student and career planning into 1 year. I just don't think it can be done. Don't they know I am an exceptional family member? I can't handle any more stress. I mean, you would think they would take that into consideration considering it was their idea and all.

Ok, that's it. Now Michael is due home in 2 days, will be home for 3 weeks, and then he is off to Barksdale. Brendan and I are to follow in June when school lets out. Can this please, please, please be it? I am going to try really, really hard to keep out of trouble for just a little while longer. I mean, it has to end somewhere, right?

Praying for peace,

Ella

Michael's gone syndrome:Take 2

Apparently this deployment has gone entirely too smoothly, and the powers that be have decided I needed a little more stress in my life.

It all started a few weeks ago when my dad was visiting, and someone decided to sideswipe Michael's car which was innocently parked out on the street in front of my house. It wasn't too bad. It could have been worse. I just had to arrange for rides to and from the body shop, and $1400 worth of repairs later the car looks just like new.

Then comes this last week where the lesson is DO NOT GET GAS WHEN YOU ARE TIRED! And if you do, then ONLY GO TO THE SAME PUMP YOU ALWAYS GO TO! That way if you needed to you could get gas blindfolded.

I, needless to say, did not follow either of these creeds. After work B and I go and get gas. All is good. Then I go to drive away. Not so good. You know how the gas pumps have the metal arches to protect the pumps? Me too, I know. What I didn't notice, was that about 1 foot and then another 3 feet in front of that this particular pump also has concrete poles. Concrete poles that do not move when you hit them. My van door, however, does move. In fact, it moves a lot. So after hearing the heart stopping crunching noise, I readjust and pull out again and head home. I don't get out of the van yet since I am just getting some money for dinner, and B can get that for me. It took me 2 hours to get up the nerve to look at my door. All I can say is..Can I unlook now?

I call State Farm, who is wonderful by the way, and make a claim. Arrange for rides to and from the body shop...again. You know its bad when the body shop says "Is this the same accident? or another one?" and when your ride's husband says, "Didn't you just take her there?" Now, my van sits, awaiting the estimated $1800 worth of repairs. 1800 DOLLARS, ESTIMATED, It could actually be HIGHER. I would just like to say...Thank goodness I kept full coverage when I paid off this vehicle!

After all that I had to work on Sunday. I hate working on Sunday, but sometimes it is necessary, and I understand that. I try not to complain, but this Sunday? This Sunday was bad! This Sunday could cause me to be a stay at home mom. 'nuf said. We won't even go there.

Then comes yesterday with the little tiny pin prick sized scab that I must have rubbed off in the shower. I have never had so much trouble getting something to stop bleeding. I'm trying to dry off, and blood is running down my arm. I apply pressure, it won't stop. I decide I need to get my teeth brushed and then deal with it. I am brushing my teeth, and blood is dripping down my arm and into the sink and onto the floor. I was off my arm and get some tissue. Completely covered that in blood. Head downstairs and get a bandaid, put it on, and put moisturizer on my face, and REPLACE the blood soaked bandaid. The thing has now been bleeding for more than 15 minutes. At one point I was thinking two things: 1. I am not going to the urgent care for this, and 2. When I don't go and I die from blood loss no one is going to believe I exsanguinated from this itty bitty sore that is litterally smaller than the tip, the tip, not even the head of a pin. Fortunately after, soaking the second bandaid, it finally stopped bleeding. Holy cow. That was fun....not!

And so it begins

Around our house there is a mystery ailment. It has a multitude of symptoms, and they are never the same. We don't know if it is a virus or a bacterial infection, but we do know its name--It is Michael's Gone Syndrome, and it always rears its head when Michael goes on a longer term TDY or on remote. In the past symptoms have ranged from the dog cutting off the tip of her tail, and making our house look like a crime scene while endlessly wagging said tail as I try to clean up behind her to me getting a peice of barbed wire caught in the blade of the riding lawnmower, and trying to disentangle it without getting my hand cut off to the muffler falling off of the car.

This time, however, the syndrome has taken on record speed in settling in. Yesterday Michael left for Korea. His flight left at 7am. The day started off ok. We all drove to the airport, saw him off and headed home for some sleep after only 3 hours of sleep the night before. So far, so good, unremarkable. Then I woke up, and had the brilliant idea to take B to get new running shoes. SUUUURE it sounds innocent and easy enough, but that would be before Michael's Gone Syndrome rears its head.

So we unsuspectingly head to Kohl's to get the shoes, and as we head out, I decide to get some gas. We drive to the gas station and fill up the van. Everything is normal. Then I try to leave the gas station. I turn the key and get nothing but a series of clicks. OK, this can not be good. I turn off the vehicle and try again. Same clicks. Definately not good. Everything works, but the van will not start. So, I call my dad. After all, he is only 3000 miles away, surely that won't be a hinderance. I ask, can it be the battery when everything else works? Thankfully, it can, easy fix.

Now for the fun part. B is only 15 he has no license, so he can only do so much. I walk into the gas station, and tell them that I have to leave my vehicle there for a bit while I go get my other vehicle. The extent of their help was to tell me that if I needed to jump the vehicle to push it away from the pumps first. Gee, thanks. So, I walk home and get my other vehicle and walk back. B pushes the van about 6 feet away from the pump and I move the car in front of the van to jump start it. It worked. Now, I drive the car home leaving B with the running van, and walk back. We drive to the nearest Walmart, buy a battery, and ask them to install it. We are the 2nd car in line, so it shouldn't take long. Wrong, after an hour and a half we wander back over to the automotive section and see the vehicle parked, so we assume it is finished. Nope. They decided we had to be in the tire change line, and moved us. There are still 3 vehicles in front of us. After asking for a refund on the battery, so I can go elsewhere they decide to take our vehicle next.

Finally after more than 2 hours we are going to get the shoes. We get in the van, and now we learn the entire entertainment system is malfunctioning. It no longer works. Back to Walmart we go. This time it only took about 10 minutes. Did you know that Honda has an anti-theft system that kicks in if the battery is disconnected for more than 10 minutes? I didn't. I do now. Everything is now fixed.

In order to stay alive, though, we opted to go home. We can get shoes tomorrow.


Ella