It has been a long time since I posted anything here. After Sean came home, life got crazy.

Sean started work again, MacKenzie started Kindergarten, and I ended up in the hospital for two somewhat unexpected surgeries. Josh has been the "calm in the storm." This should tell you a little something.

Adjusting to Sean's homecoming was challenging. For example, I can't eat Totinos Party Pizzas on his side of the bed without worrying about recourse. I also have to buy two kinds of salsa, because he hates the kind with cilantro. But, the challenges are quickly forgotten after watching everyone light up when he walks through the door every day.

Our family spent Thanksgiving at the mountain, and Christmas in the Caribbean (Disney Cruise and Disney World). Both were a great opportunity to celebrate one another, in some beautiful settings.

If I've learned anything in the past year, it is that life is too short to not savor every minute. I'm looking forward to sharing more memories and pictures with everyone who will listen.

Buzz

I'm not sure if I've mentioned this, but Joshua is deathly afraid of bees. When the sun came out a month ago, he began to watch for them.

We've tried everything--science and religion books (bees are good!), worst case scenarios (so what if you get stung?) and multiple animated movies (all with heroic yet vulnerable bee protagonists). All to no avail.

I finally got fed up. Joshua wouldn't go outside the doorway, fearing every fly might actually be a bee. We decide to have a barbeque at my parents' home for dinner, but Josh insists we not go because we might all get stung.

So the kids were back in their rooms as I was folding laundry. I looked out the window, and thought "Wow, I haven't seen gnats like that since we lived in Alabama!" Then I saw the neighbors gathering at a distance to watch, and soon realized that the black haze in my driveway did not consist of gnats. Those suckers were bees. They were swarming at our doors and windows like a tornado.

After saying a prayer (certain that this was the beginning of Armegeddon) I ran around the house to shut all the doors and windows. Then I called my parents to come over and help. By the time they arrived, the bulk of the plague had moved about 15 feet over to my yard. My parents got out of their car (in spite of my hollering from the front door) and happily informed me that my walnut tree was the chosen resting place for a swarm of honeybees.

Truth be told, I have a love/hate relationship with bees. I admire their products, I love their unselfish work ethic, and I appreciate their loyalty. My name even means "Honey Bee" in Greek. Isn't that cool? But get me within 10 yards of a bee, and I'm as freaked out as Joshua. So as my parents were standing in the middle of the swarm, I came to the conclusion that I wasn't dropped on my head as a child after all. I was just born into insane lineage.

Googling for a few minutes supported my parents' claims. Apparently, the queen bee lays eggs all winter long. In the springtime they hatch, and soon, the bees outgrow their hive. So a new queen is brought up, and the old queen leaves with half of the bees to find a new home. They travel in swarms, and sometimes stop to rest in places like trees. Most of the bees surround the queen in the resting place, while a few leave to scout the perimeter. I guess I should consider myself priveleged to have watched the queen bee travel through my driveway and choose my little tree to take a nap with her loyal subjects.

Honey bees have been known to "rest" for longer than 24 hours in a location while the scout bees look for prime real estate (sometimes nearby). Apparently, they often choose to settle in the walls of homes. If they choose the Torgerson walls, I'm going to have to start charging rent. I already have a freeloading squirrel, I don't need a colony of bees too.


Follow up: We called a beekeeper the next day, who happily came over to take the queen. Within 2 hours, the remaining bees (he couldn't get them all) had flown back to their old hive.

A Few words from Iraq

Well... i am not much for blogging...

But I am sitting here in front of my computer and counting down the days till I get to be home with my Wonderful family. I check in on the blog that Melissa is keeping every now and then and I can see that It has not been updated in a few weeks and know that Melissa has been running around like crazy taking care of kids, kids on Spring Break, work, meetings, and life and a lot of other wonderful events... like cars that decide they want to stop working... I am sure Melissa can elaborate on the story much better... but I'll just say that Mr Murphy is running around having fun again with his laws again...

Anyway... I just want to thank everyone for all the wonderful letters and packages you have sent, the prayers you have given, and the help you have offered. Everyone here enjoys the packages we receive, and although we do not always get a thank you card out to those who send us goodies, we love them, and appreciate the time you have all given to send them to us. They provide us a little something to brighten our day and something to talk about. And a little piece of home to remember. God bless you all.

Well its almost 2200, and I am getting up for PT in the morning... time for this soldier to go to sleep.

Santa's Red-Eye...

It has been two months since my last post, and it seems like no time at all. We had a fantastic Christmas with our families. Jason, Lisa and the kids flew in from New Jersey--so Joshua and MacKenzie got to see all of their cousins over the holidays.

Prior to Christmas, we had an abnormally huge amount of snow. So the kids got an "extended" vacation, and our annual Christmas Homeless events were even crazier than usual. On the day after Christmas, I got a text message from Santa, who accidently left one of the kids' presents on his sleigh.

At about 6am on the 27th, Joshua woke up and went out to the living room to watch cartoons. I got up and gave him a hug--at which point, he asked where his surprise from Santa was. I looked at the couch, and asked "Josh, what is that you are sitting on?"

He looked down and said, "that's just Daddy's uniform."

Then he then did a double take, gasped, and said "Daddy's uniform?" He got up and raced back to our bedroom, flipped on the light and hopped into our bed. Joshua gave Sean an enormous bear hug and exclaimed "you are so much better than rollerblades!"

MacKenzie learned about Sean's homecoming much differently. At 3 am she woke up, and crawled into bed with me. Only this time, she had to squish between two of us. As she put her head on the pillow, Sean quietly said "I love you MacKenzie." She went completely still, and we heard a quiet, little intake of breath. When Sean got up to go to the bathroom a few minutes later, I asked him to put Zee in her bed on his way back.

As soon as Sean had cleared the doorway, MacKenzie shot out of our bed and ran back into her room. She didn't want some strange man carrying her anywhere!

Sean went into her room, and turned on the light so she could see him. She rolled over, said "I love you Dad," and fell back to sleep smiling.

We hadn't told Sean's family about his leave either. Sean called his parents using Skype (international line) from our car in front of their house. About that time, I went to the front door, and rang the doorbell--asking his parents to help me get the kids into the house.

Sean's parents rushed outside to my aid, only to find Sean standing in the driveway.

For two weeks, we relaxed with both our extended family, and with just the kids. It was easier for Joshua and MacKenzie when Sean left the second time around. However, it was harder for the two of us. This time, both Sean and I understood the realities of being separated for so long.

Now, it is February. The kids are back in school, and both Sean and I are busy at work. Sean is training the "second" crew of soldiers from his unit (several members finished up their 6 month rotation, and came home this weekend). He and his new roommate are planting a garden, even though the temperatures are beginning to rise again.

This past week, I went to Washington D.C. for work. Next week, the kids and I will fly to Hawaii in celebration of my Dad's birthday--although Zee believes the only reason we are going is to learn the Hula.

Once again, we thank everyone for the support, encouragement and patience. There are some days when we feel like barely hanging on, and the unconditional friendship of loved ones always gives both Sean and I strength.

By the way. If anyone knows how to get animals out of walls, I would be much obliged. Our critter friend still appreciates this particular spot between our bathroom and dining room as a place to come in from the cold...

Army Wives During the Holidays

There is something about the holidays which makes me feel not-so-independent. I came to this poignant epiphany as I was laying under an 8 foot Christmas tree in the living room. I felt stupid for getting such an enormous tree, and none of my imaginary friends would be coming to the rescue (why don't houses have On-Star?)

So after bruises and scrapes all over the place, we have a cockeyed tree. At least it is standing up--I just told the kids to lean a little bit during pictures.

I have accepted the fact that I can't win every battle. Just when I begin to feel invincible, something happens to remind me how imperfect life is. For example, this weekend Joshua and I hung up 1000 mismatched Christmas lights, all with a 3 foot extension cord. And last weekend, an anonymous animal decided to take up residence in one of our walls. Ralph S. Mouse (Racoon?) must like being part of our family, because he refuses to vacate.

During times like these, the "Army Wife" poem comes to mind. Thought I'd share it, and encourage everyone to check in on other military spouses who might be alone during these holidays.

***

Army Wife
by Dana L. Self

This is for the young women that are waking up at 6 a.m. every morning, laying out clothes and packing three lunches for those small precious children that they have been left alone to care for.

This is for the pregnant Army wife wondering if her husband will make it home in time to watch their miracle happen.

This is for the childless Army wife, living in a town or on a base alone where she is a complete stranger to her surroundings.

This is for the women that feel like a third leg when they go out with their friends and their husbands.

This is for the Army wife that canceled all her plans to wait by the phone, and even though the phone broke up and cut off every time you spoke to him, you waited anyway.

This is a pledge to the women that cry themselves to sleep in an empty bed.

This is to recognize the woman that felt like she was dying inside when he said he had to go, but smiled for him anyway.

This is for those of you that are faithfully in that long line at the post office once a month, handling 2 large boxes and 2 small children like a pro.

This is for that woman that decided to remodel the house to pass time, and then realized that she had no idea what she was doing and sighed and wished she had a little help.

This is for all the lonely nights, all the one-person dinners, and all of the wondering thoughts because you haven't heard from him in days.

This is for the sad Army wives, the angry Army wives, and the strong Army wives. A toast to you for falling apart, and putting yourselves back together. Because a pay check isn't enough, a body pillow in your bed is no consolation, and a web cam can never compare.

This is for all of you no matter how easy or hard this is for you. Our soldiers are brave, they are heroes, but so are we. So the next time someone tells you that they would never marry an Army guy, don't bother explaining to them that you can't control who you fall in love with. Just think of this and nod your head, know that you are the stronger woman.

Hold your heads up high, hang that flag in your front yard, stick 100 magnets on your car, and then give yourself a pat on the back. Be proud to be the woman that you are, be proud to be an Army wife.

A Letter to our Garbage Man

Dear Mr. Garbage Man,

The other day, I forgot to put the garbage out until I heard you drive down the street. I ran outside, half dressed, only to watch as you passed. I wasn't wearing my glasses, but judging by the way you backed up at full speed and slammed things around, you weren't very happy. This was confirmed when I came out an hour later, and found the garbage can thrown onto the sidewalk.

Two months ago I would have gone back into the house, called the garbage company up, and complained about your lack of customer service. I would have crazily justified my outrage by explaining that my house is being torn up, and I can't find anything except piles of laundry. That I pray in front of my washer, because even though the Sears repairman just visited, the machine still only works sporadically.

I would have whined incessently because although I somehow fit 80 hours worth of work into each week, poor revenue forecasts at the state have put everyone in jeopardy. So I'm having to fight to maintain employment--and just thinking about looking for a new job makes my stomach upset.

I would have also told whoever answered the phone that my husband is deployed, and that my kids miss their dad. I miss him too. Mostly his company, but also his help around the house. I would have tried to express that sometimes I can't function at 110% with the constant, overwhelming knowledge that my best friend is halfway around the world, in a not-so-friendly place.

But this isn't two months ago, and I didn't call the garbage company. In fact, I didn't even get angry at the mud on my clothes after picking up the can.

Instead, I found myself wondering if perhaps you too were going through tough times at home, worrying about your job, or finding yourself lonely during quiet moments throughout your day.

So while I'm sorry I put you off schedule, I'm grateful for you showing me how much I've grown up over the past few months. Next week, I'll remember to put the garbage out on time.

Biggest Loser Redemption!

A while back, we purchased a bike trailer. You know, one of those little tow-behinds that you carry kids in? We've used it to go back and forth to Gramma's house (about 1/2 mile), but not had the opportunity to really test it out. So last weekend, MacKenzie and I decided to go grocery shopping at Hanks and use the trailer to haul our groceries back. Save gas, exercise and get some fresh air.

The first 4 blocks to Hanks were great. Zee Zee hit a tree or two, and she got thrown over a couple curbs until I got used to the width of the thing--but I felt fantastic. Then, about 6 blocks in my thighs began to burn. I shifted down, felt a little better, and kept going on. Soon, I was dripping sweat and going ridiculously slow. When people looked at me riding at a snails pace, I just looked around as if I was enjoying the beautiful scenery. Until MacKenzie would holler from the back "why are you going so slow Mom?"

Finally, we arrived at Hanks. My thighs were so numb, I fell off my bike. Then I had to find a place to park the dang thing where I could lock it. After taking up the entire bike rack, I challenged someone to steal the contraption (at least I would have an excuse to call for a ride home) and went in the store.

Now I'm not a genius, but the exercise must have made me particularly brain dead. I didn't just pick up some bread and yogurt. I also got 2 gallons of milk, 2 cases of soda, a case of water and two bags of groceries. After fitting this in the trailer that I wish someone had stolen, I took off home with renewed hope.

The hope was short lived. I got to JB Thomas (about 3 blocks) and stopped. As people passed, I pretended to check the left tire. I went another three blocks, and had to stop again--this time, checking the other tire. Two blocks later, I stopped again, and before I could get off the bike, MacKenzie yelled "You've already stopped and checked both tires Mom!" So I covered her up with my sweater, and told her she was cold.

After six more stops, a bucket of sweat, and ten questions from MacKenzie about why I was breathing funny, we made it home. I couldn't walk or climb the stairs at work for two days, and the trailer has been parked ever since.

So why did I title this posting "Redemption?"

Although I could barely bike to Hanks and back, I won the Biggest Loser competition at work today! The contest started in August--and the first place pot was $165. Apparently I lost over 7% of my body weight. While that isn't saying much, being the "biggest loser" might just be the motivation I need to try that trip to Hanks again!

Or not.