Moments in Mosul

Fly Boy’s troop is currently in Mosul, finishing up several days of "training" in order to assume the mission of the current Kiowa troop that’s stationed there.  In the next month or so, Fly Boy and his buddies will swap bases with those in Mosul for a whole different and very dangerous urban war zone.  I was fortunate to receive several telephone calls from him over the past few days, including this morning (his evening-with 11 hours difference) and I heard graphic details of one of his most "intense" combat situations since the one where he’d received his medal of valor.

Mosul is a city of 1.3 million people in the North West part of Iraq on the West bank of the Tigris River.  It is famous for its ancient buildings and beautiful mosques…Great Mosque, Red Mosque and the Mosque of Nabi Jarjis. The city has freeways and other modern conveniences, plus crowded housing areas topped with antennas and wires, which make it very dangerous for low flying helicopters.  Fly Boy is learning the evasive methods necessary for this sizzling hot spot from the pilots that have been there for the past 6 months.  "Low and fast", he says and "Fly it like you stole it!" since they’re going to shoot at you any chance they get!  In Mosul, they will have Apaches flying above and behind them as added firepower.

Today, he said they were dodging insurgent bullets, rockets and explosive devices, some of which blew up right in front of them. Then a suicide bomber, (nearly a daily occurrence) headed toward an Army Stryker vehicle, and blew himself up in an automobile right next to an innocent roadside vendor, who was minding his own business selling soda.  The soldiers survived with minor injuries, but the vendor was not so lucky.

My son was amazed at the 100’s of "looky-loos" that descended on the bloody carnage, then move along with their daily lives.  The collateral damage to the roads and electrical wires at the scene are quickly repaired and their Iraqi life returns to "normal" until the next car bomb explodes.

A day in the life of my American soldier.    ::SIGH:: 

However, after hearing how often our ground troops lose their lives when their Stryker vehicles are hit by suicidal martyrs, I can be grateful my son is in the air.  But my heart is heavy for the families of those 4 soldiers who gave their all just the other day in a horrible Stryker attack.

All considered, Fly Boy says at least their living accommodations in Mosul will be a great improvement over MacKenzie, offering very tasty food, including occasional steamed lobster tails, yummy Baskin-Robbins ice cream, and better choices for recreation.

In the meantime, he is anxiously awaiting his mid-tour trip home in May to spend some quality time in the safe, loving arms of his wife and family.

God Speed Son!

Remembering Smith River........

This morning while creating an entry for my photoblog, I was recalling our morning fun at the ocean in March.  Here's a photo of a fairly big sandcrab that Ab discovered on one of our morning walks.  You can read more by clicking-> here.

Truth, Justice and the American Teenager

Considering my profession, I have been conned a time or two by the absolute best. There’s a reason they call them convicts. But, when it comes to your kid messing with you like that, you’ve got to draw the line.

I know as the mother and considering the fact that she’s my fourth child, I should be able to effectively deal with some of these issues, but I’ll tell you, it’s so damn hard. Sometimes I just want to throw my hands up in despair and run. To quote a line from one of my favorite songs by Wynonna Judd, "Is it over yet?"

My youngest is becoming masterful at deceit and quite the manipulator. When it used to be nearly impossible for her to tell me a lie without laughing or displaying some other form of easily recognized body language which gives it away, she is learning to stand flat-footed, raise her right hand and swear that she’s telling me the truth. And…she won’t back down, even in the face of pure, irrefutable proof. That’s her story and she’s stickin’ to it!

Coming from a mother who is often honest to a fault and the fact that she’s been raised in an environment where truth is practiced and valued, this behavior is terribly distressing. Even Bubba, with all his issues, had the self-respect to own up to his misdeeds when they came to light. Am I going to be able to get this child to be a responsible adult and citizen? I know I felt the same thing at times with the two oldest, but Lord Have Mercy!

What really gets me is the fact that so many of her lies are just downright stupid and unnecessary. Take this example:

Me: What happened to the battery in the kitchen clock?

Her: I dunno. Why?

Me: Well, the kitchen clock is not running and there is no battery in it, so someone took the battery.

Her: Not meeeeeee! If I wanted a battery I could take one out of the drawer right here. <showing a fist full of batteries>

Me: Well, the clock was operating when I went to bed last night, and this morning it wasn’t. Upon inspection of the clock, the battery is missing. I didn’t take out the battery, and you say YOU didn’t take thebattery, so I guess we had a burglar last night? Ok, I know….Greyson (the kitten) took it out; he probably needed it for his CD player.

Her: <Gulp> Mom, I didn’t take the battery out!

Argggghh! So, now what do I do? It’s not like I can find and identify the missing battery and stick it in her face and say "SEE! Caught ya!" I can’t beat her into truthful submission! Do I treat this as I would in an inmate’s disciplinary hearing using "preponderance of evidence?"  We certainly have enough circumstantial evidence as well. Is this even a battle I want to fight? How about we let this one go? Nah…there’s been too many situations lately where she refuses to be truthful or take responsibility for her actions.

It’s not the battery. If she’d told the truth, I would have just scolded her, asked her to put the battery back and not take batteries out of something like that in the future. No big deal! So just why is this child being so deceitful and how do I handle it?

We ended up talking with a professional, her therapist. And, right in front of the kid, she gives me the new rule. If Mom suspects you are not telling the truth, she’s going to flip a coin. Heads, you skate, tails…you’re assumed to be lying and you’ll be receiving a punishment. The therapist feels that this 50/50 rule encourages kids to be truthful. So, that’s what we’re doing here.  I'm thinkin' it's worth a try. 

Comments and other suggestions are welcome!

What Kind of Key are You and What do You Unlock?

You're a little gold key, and you unlock other people's hearts. Your kindness and willingness to be there for those you care about lets people open up to you knowing they will be accepted. People will rely on you, but be careful not to give more than you have.

A True American Hero-Fly Boy's Air Medal with Valor

Fly Boy, my American soldier and true military hero, was recently presented with the Army's Air Medal with Valor by the Commanding General of the 42nd Infantry Division for his outstanding actions in a firefight with Iraqi insurgents.  You can read the specifics in the narrative below, which has been edited to remove his real name.  Emphasis with underlines is mine! 

 Congratulations Son!

 

Narrative for Air Medal with "V" Device

CW2 Fly Boy

At 201750CMAR05 Palehorse 06/Crazyhorse 06 (PH06, CH06), a flight of two OH-58D Kiowa Warrior helicopters, observed a large explosion while conducting Reconnaissance and Security operations, vicinity Hib Hib. The Air Mission Commander's (AMC's) aircraft contacted Task Force Hammer (3rd Brigade Combat Team) to report the explosion and determine if there had been any controlled detonations in the area. Upon notification that there were no planned controlled detonations, the Scout Weapons Team (SWT), began to move to the location of the blast to actively develop the situation.

At 1800 as the team transitioned to that location, an unidentified rocket engaged CW2 <Insert Fly Boy’s name> aircraft. CW2 Fly Boy's aircraft broke right and began to conduct evasive maneuvers, while attempting to gain contact with the enemy. After conducting aggressive reconnaissance of the point of origin (Qual'at ar Raqqah) with negative results, the aircraft continued mission to the origin of the previous explosion.

The SWT arrived at the site at 1805 and identified the source of the explosion as a VBIED (Vehicle Borne Improvised Explosive Device) that had detonated inside of a GIA (Greater Iraqi Army) compound. While conducting multiple passes over the insurgent force, the SWT became engaged by small arms fire from seven individuals located on the northeast corner of the compound. CW2 Fly Boy, without regard for his own personal safety, quickly prioritized his greatest threats, established an engagement area and targeted the Anti-Iraqi Forces (AIF) personnel with .50 Caliber machine gun and rocket fire. His rapid assessment of the situation and timely response to the enemy resulted in saving the lives of multiple friendly Iraqi forces within the GIA compoundand seven enemy killed in action.

Once the enemy broke contact from the GIA station, the SWT conducted a thorough sweep of the area to gain situational awareness of the enemy forces and began directing ground forces into the area. As the AMC began directing ground forces into the area, both aircraft came under heavy large caliber weapons fire and rocket fire. CW2 Fly Boy's superb skill as an aviator ensured the safety of the aircraft and provided the AMC with vital information of the enemy in order to direct the battle. Throughout the battle, the aircraft continued to maneuver around the battlefield, directing the ground forces onto the enemy locations. The ground element, continuing to maneuver on the enemy were engaged by two Improvised Explosive Devices (IEDs), the SWT provided critical cover and situational updates which allowed the ground unit to establish security and overall situational awareness on the ground. Over the course of the battle, the aircraft were engaged multiple times without receiving and direct hits.

While conducting duties as Pilot-In-Command of the lead aircraft of a two aircraft reconnaissance mission, CW2 Fly Boy distinguished himself by closing with and engaging Anti-Iraqi Forces attempting to overrun a Greater Iraqi Army compound. His efforts as the pilot-in-command ensured the safety of his aircraft, his aircrew and vital security for the ground commander. His determination and fearlessness in the face of the enemy, allowed the disruption of a large scale, complex attack that would likely have led to the destruction of not only the GIA compound, but also the destruction of the Coalition Quick Reaction Force that actioned to re-enforce the GIA.

It's that time......

So, it’s Science Project time again.

I hate Science Project time. I feel I have good reason to hate science projects. Kids that have parents that can afford to put them in private school, at least judging by the automobiles they drive around here, have some pretty successful and smart parents helping them with their science projects.  I’m talking Doctors, Rocket Scientists, test pilots and stuff. Seriously. We’re not too far away from a major Air Force Base and usually they provide us with a couple of their smart guys to do the judging on some pretty amazing projects.

We’ve never even got an honorable mention. Last years experiment was pretty good too. We did how water expands and creates erosion on our streets. We used asphalt and watched it crack after repeatedly freezing water in it’s bowl like indention. Papa even helped us last year and we felt pretty good about the fact it wasn’t a "slacker" type project like some of the other’s we’ve done over the years. Funny, no one was impressed.

"Our" science project is due Tuesday and I am frantically working away, since Ab just informed me of the due date on Friday afternoon, during her progress report meltdown. Swell, three days to pull together a project that has at least some measure of the "Scientific Method" which they are to use.

The Girl Child didn’t have a scientific clue as to what to kind of project to do after her teacher nixed her brilliant, albeit last minute idea of the paper towel absorbency comparison-Brawny vs Albertson’s brand-saying it was "too 5th gradeish." Ya think?

After brainstorming for a few minutes, I suggested we do "The Affect (or is it Effect) of Carbohydrates on Blood Sugar." Does that sound impressive, or what? As Native Americans we have a higher risk of diabetes and a long family history of the disease. Plus, we just happen to have a mom on a low carb diet, a willing friend who can eat pretty much whatever she wants and is also willing to donate blood samples for comparison to mine, and Papa's super-duper, state-of-the-art, One Touch Ultra Smart, Blood Glucose Monitoring System to obtain the blood samples…which Mom will handle because the Girl Child is "not touching any blood!"

So far, my blood sugar, taken at regular intervals, has been steady, in the normal range-as I have eaten almost no carbohydrates. Our friend Patti has indulged in moderate amounts of carbs for the past few days and her blood sugar has been somewhat higher than mine, except for when she indulged in a donut. The donut caused her blood sugar to be 50 points higher than mine, before dinner.

Tonight, it was my turn to sacrifice. I told Ab it was all in the name of science as I was forced to eat a Push-Up "frozen treat" to allow us to see the effects of the sugar on my deprived system.  It was difficult...but I managed.  (Ok, in all honesty I would have rather had a chocolate candy bar!)

The things a mother does for love.  And Science Projects!

Another Interview......

Cynthia, my dear journal friend at Sorting the Pieces (a wonderful, thought provoking, and spiritual journal=a must read) was kind enough to pose me some interview questions, to keep me busy during my recuperation period.  If any of you would like to be interviewed, just let me know in the comment section and I will formulate some questions for you right away! 

 Now, here are her questions and my answers.........

 

What's the hardest thing about having your son in a war zone?

The uncertainty…the damn uncertainty, about if he’s safe………….. because I am continuously wondering, worrying and praying that he is safe while he’s in Iraq. Also, the uncertainty about when he’s coming home, and if he will have to go back to Iraq or another war zone in his Army career. Just imagine how many mothers and fathers, wives, girlfriends/lovers and children are feeling the same way. It’s got to be the very worst part of being in this position.

When you get off crutches and back securely on your feet again, do you have a pair of shoes you absolutely have to wear first?

Once, while complaining to a podiatrist about how difficult it was for me to find comfortable, yet stylish shoes, he said, "Well, no wonder. You have Fred Flintstone feet! They’re little rectangles!" (Gee Doc, I never thought of it that way, but you’re right!) So, my little feet with the chubby toes that go straight across are thrilled to have anything covering them (other than a cast, of course) that will make it easy for their owner to move comfortably from place to place, and remain in an upright position. These feet can NEVER, ever wear a pair of shoes that have toes that look like this < so I must always opt for sensible comfort over style. Therefore, my shoe wardrobe consists mostly of wide sandals that have adjustable straps, the flip-flop slip-on type, or athletic shoes. Of course there are my combat boots, which are the epitome of comfort! Yes, Fly Boy’s Mom wears combat boots, with lots of career miles on ‘em! Hmmm… As far as a pair that I absolutely have to wear first? I guess that would be my favorite pair of Sketchers that I will put on to walk out of the Doctor’s office when he says I am good to go! And, I will "beat feet" outta there!

What would be your ideal vacation?

Me, my camera and my perfect, oh so tolerant man to accompany me as I slowly travel the United States by motorhome, stopping to take advantage of every photo opportunity as we discover small towns, coastal villages, and the stunning beauty of every state in this country. Of course this vacation wouldn’t have a time limit. Simply….however long it takes! Now, if that man would just fall into my rain barrel!

Describe your favorite meal.

My mouth is watering as I sit here thinking about it, since it’s not on a low carb diet! Mexican food. Preferably, cooked by a Mexican National….in one of those places where the local Mexican people come to eat! That way, you know it’s going to be very good. I would have thick cheese enchiladas, placed under the broiler until they get a crispy, slightly brown bubbly top, served with cheesy topped traditional refried beans, rice and two soft carnitas tacos, with a giant bowl of fresh salsa and freshly made, thin crisp tortilla chips…and a blended margarita!

You asked for it. You got it. It's raining men! Who's in your rain barrel? (If you feel compelled to steal from mine, I'll share. After all I did get greedy.)

I’m hoping for an "economy size" rain barrel! Hmmmmm, I am obviously dating myself with some of these choices, but here goes…. A middle-aged Johnny Carson, because I think he was just the funniest man alive, well, when he was alive. His wit, facial expressions and his ability to have genuine fun made him so endearing. Next, Clint Eastwood…..say at about age 40 or so. My, my, my! Tall, dark and handsome. His voice, the squint of his eye, that Dirty Harry tough-guy demeanor made him my all time favorite male actor, so he’d definitely be one in the barrel. Garth Brooks would have to be next. I just love Garth Brooks’ personality, his good looks and balding head, that sweet Okie accent and his music. He’d be there to sing to me…continuously, whenever I wanted, or just when the moment was right! ::sigh:: Then I’d have to add my best ex-boyfriend (mentioned in The Write One) to cut it up with Carson and keep me in stitches. Finally, my friend Chuck…well, just because. Pretty greedy, huh!

 

 

Teenagers

There are just about 7 school weeks left before the girl child is supposed…I say supposed to graduate 8th grade and move on to a public high school. Currently she is on academic probation, and displaying a pretty poor attitude about school and life in general. Having little patience for excuses as to why she’s got bad grades, much to her dismay, I am requiring weekly progress reports.

After a Friday afternoon announcement that she and a girlfriend had plans to take in a weekend movie, I reminded her that I had asked her all week long to clean up her bedroom, before the Child Protective Services came for me as no child should be subjected to living in that kind of environment. Nor should the ants. And….since it still had not been accomplished we weren’t discussing any weekend activities.

I then asked to see the progress report.

Hmmmm. I am proud to say that my daughter is becoming much better at expressing her emotions and I am sure her therapist would be pleased. I was able to clearly hear and understand her issues. She hates the school, her teachers are sooooo stupid and totally unreasonable, as am I! However, we must have further discussion with her counselor about the fact she has not yet fully realized the necessity to take responsibility for one’s actions, or in this case, lack thereof. We’ll continue to work on that.

So, upon realizing that mom was not impressed with the fact that she still had missing assignments, the same poor grades that were reported last week, and a Science Project not yet started that is due this coming Tuesday, I calmly informed her that she would not be going anywhere for at least one week.

It was at that time, once she’d finished with the silent treatment, that I was able to see that she was becoming even more expressive about how she truly feels. This lasted way into the night, with at least 4 tearful and heroic attempts to get me to change my unreasonable mind about her restricted activities. As I wouldn’t relent, she finally gave up about midnight with a swift slam of my bedroom door.

My father used to say that it’s a lot easier to get good or decent grades than it is to get bad ones. Basically, he said, if you just put a little effort into doing the work and turn it in, that’s about all you have to do and the grades will follow. Then your teachers are happy, your parents are happy and YOU are happy, because they aren’t on your case all the time and life is good.

I don’t know if this child is going to grasp the concept, but we’ll keep trying.

Thank God this is my last teenager!

Do I sound a little testy?

"You want what?" I asked incredulously, speaking to the young woman from Cars 4 Causes on the telephone.

She repeated. "A copy of the death certificate and a copy of the will saying you are the executrix of the estate. We believe you, but we need that paperwork to transfer the title of the car." she replied. "You have those, don’t you?"

One thing I’ve always been proud of is the amount of common sense I possess. So, I explained…..

Yes, of course I have that paperwork. But, if you will look through those papers I sent with the tow truck driver yesterday, you will see an official document from the State’s Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV)….a form entitled, AFFADAVIT FOR TRANSFER WITHOUT PROBATE in which I swear and certify under the penalty of perjury under the laws of this great state, that my father died on August 25, 2004 and I am a guardian of the property of the decedent and an heir and that I have the right to have the title to the vehicle transferred without probate proceedings. That little paper contains my full name, signature, date and telephone number. In addition, I provided my Driver’s License number and signature on a form for you as requested by your tow-truck driver, signed the original title, and YOU KNOW where I live! Also, I am notifying the DMV that I am transferring the vehicle to your organization, by sending the official NOTICE OF RELEASE OF LIABILITY, and have signed the form, indicating my father is deceased.  And, the DMV certainly knows how to find me!

No, I don’t think I want to give you a copy my father’s death certificate, which contains way more information than you need.  Nor do I think you need a copy of his will-which contains some very personaland pretty sensitive information about his entire family-to do this title transfer.

Trust me, this is the third vehicle transfer that I handled in this exact manner, dealing directly with the DMV.  Everything was just fine. No death certificate in hand, no problem.

Ok….talk to your manager on Monday. I will await your call and if it’s a problem, you wouldn’t mind bringing the car back, would you?

Arrrrggggh!

Corralling Our Urban Sprawl

Sly and Tianna, our playful Boxer dogs, are safe in their new pen, purchased solely for containment while our new fence is put in place. After their ordeal a few months back when they escaped from our rickety fence and ended up in the "care of the Animal Control" officials, they wouldn’t be able to take the stress of being away from home in temporary boarding during this construction.

For months, we’d been promised a new fence by the company building a few hundred new homes, which now border my house on two sides. Today is the day. The fence is said to be their "Thanks for being such a good neighbor" for the past year and a half, while putting up with the continuous noise, dirt, dust, trash, dirty automobiles (after a visit to the car wash), traffic, and did I mention DIRT…that a major project like that creates.

If the truth be known, the fence they are trying to pass off as a token of their gratitude and total good will, is something they’d have to do on at least two sides anyway since the new homeowners would probably expect something a little more substantial then what sits there now. Considering the fact that my 15 year old fence has been gingerly held together with a lick and their promise after months of them running into it with dirt movers and the like, plus causing my dogs to end up captives of the dog catcher, I feel that providing me one length of the fence for free is the very least they can do.

Good fences….Good neighbors!