After a significant amount of effort, we have published Letters From Tim to a hardbound coffee table book. If you are so inclined, you may order the book from Blurb by clicking here. It is a 264 page book that includes each post (with the exception of the videos) along with beautiful layouts of the pictures taken by my brother Nate.
Please note: There is absolutely no profit being made on this book. The cost of the book is $76.95, plus shipping.
This is the last post to this blog. In the future, you may visit Stoner Six.
We finally are launching our NEW BLOG (stonersix.com). While we truly enjoyed, needed, and was comforted by ‘Letters From Tim’, it is time that we close the book on this portion of our lives, so to speak.
Thankfully the rain held out so we could enjoy Memorial Day. The ceremony held at East Washington Park Cemetery was a beautifully planned ceremony by Bert Petigrove of Flanner & Buchanan.
As Tim said in his speech, “As a combat veteran, this Memorial Day means more to my family and I than ever. We have a better understanding of selfless service, dedication, and love.”
We are looking forward to a special Memorial Day celebration tomorrow. The day will not pass without a great deal of reflection on the past year, and the sacrifices that so many soldiers make to protect our freedom.
For the first time, I thought about the MEDEVAC unit that took over for Tim’s unit last night. While I am relishing in the comfort of my husband being home and contributing significantly to the household, I realized that somewhere in Maine there is another group of wives just beginning their journey.
Tim has been asked to speak at Washington Park East Cemetery (10612 East Washington Street, Indianapolis) tomorrow for their Memorial Day celebration. It is sure to be a moving ceremony beginning at Noon. While he downplays nearly everything…this is quite an honor given the lineup.
The Mayor of Indianapolis will be reciting Abraham Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address. Followed by an introduction of Guardsmen by the State Command Sergeant Major, Jim Brown and Brigadier General David Harris (Tim used to work with Jim Brown when he was in the Long Range Surveillance Unit).
There will be a flower presentation and candle lighting ceremony as the Veterans in the audience are recognized. Then, the heavenly sounds of the Pipes and Drums of the Murat Highlanders will play. Of course, Taps will conclude the ceremony. After which the Indianapolis Jazz Orchestra will put on a free concert from 1:30-4pm.
We will be there…please join us if you would like.
Tim and I found ourselves incredibly moved on Thursday evening when we attended a musical performance by the second grade at Briggs’ school. It was entitled, A is for America based on the book written by Lynne Cheney. The theme seemed perfectly planned given Tim’s recent arrival home which included fifteen patriotic songs, dances, and speaking parts. It appeared as if nearly every child had a special standout moment. To say that we were impressed was an understatement.
At one point I whispered to Tim, “Weren’t we just dirty dancing at The Chug (one of our favorites holes at Ball State)? How did we get here?” His reply short and simple, “This is what the dirty dancing got us.”
During the performance, one boy we are particularly fond of took the mic. Noah read from the heart the following excerpt he wrote about Tim. It brought us to tears.
“When I think about a hero, I think about my neighbor, Commander Stoner.
Commander Stoner is my hero because he served our country in Iraq. He flew Blackhawk helicopters to get wounded soldiers. He brought his troops home safe and sound.
He is a good father and takes care of his children.
He is a kind man. Whenever he sees me he gives me a hug and says, “Hey buddy, what’s up?”
Welcome Home Commander Stoner”
Throughout the hour we gazed on our oldest son singing songs we had no idea he knew, swaying back and forth (exactly like us…completely unable to stand still), digging in his nose on several occasions (we were cringing), and at times trying to hide back his enormous smile as if he was embarrassed. I hadn’t noticed his dimples in a long time. It is funny the little things you overlook about someone you see everyday until you really sit back and watch them.
Happy Birthday Stacy (aka Stacy the Great, Aunt Stacy and Ninny)!
I have found it nearly impossible to adequately thank Stacy enough for her support during Tim’s deployment. Her move from New Jersey to Indiana was a dream come true. After years of living on either coast paving her way in a successful career, Stacy finally required a place to grow roots and surround herself with friends and family. I was thrilled to add another member to our growing commune of transplants to Indiana.
Stacy moved in with me for several weeks until she was able to transition into her beautiful home. Her presence was a gift I sorely needed in the dead of the Winter. She is never without a joke, a funny little dance to make the kids laugh, and a warm, open lap. We worked like a well-oiled machine. And most importantly, she was a sounding board and loving friend.
I cannot imagine being too thrilled to move into a household of loud children but Stacy seemed to love the activity, as well as her bird, my kids affectionately refer to as ‘Taco.’ It was endearing to overhear a story Briggs told his classmate about “Aunt Stacy.” I guess she has truly found a home not only physically but in our hearts.
Stacy - WELCOME HOME AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY! From the bottom of my soul…thank you!
We have been reunited for one week. And while we have relished being together again, there is something to be said about the term we heard often from the military…REINTEGRATION.
I found myself lacking the GPS coordinates to give to Tim when explaining the directions to Briggs’ baseball practice. Then, I actually heard him say, “Roger…proceed” when I told him the plans for our day ahead. I guess removing military jargon isn’t all that easy. On another occasion, I apparently didn’t give him enough context to a story I was telling because he stopped me mid-sentence and said, “I always told my guys that you can’t just start talking about a specific subject, without a transition, or giving me the big picture of what you are talking about.” At that point, let me assure you, I wasn’t interested in continuing my story.
Tim has been extremely tuned into the children, extremely hands-on with everything around the house, and having the family whole again is more than words can describe.
With that being said, I think it is important to recognize that there is a reintegration period. I have had to remind myself repeatedly that my husband has just returned from a highly-stressful combat zone into a home with four noisy and needy children. I have tried to keep my ‘Type-A’ personality at bay and have bit my tongue on several occasions. Tim has complained that many things have been moved, I took over ‘his space’, and when he sees my non-reaction to the girls climbing on top of the table he comments that I have clearly been in ’survival-mode’ for the past year. After these comments, we both kind of chuckle. Through the truth there is a lot of humor.
Tim and I promised we would always uphold a united front with the children’s discipline. Well, for anyone else that uses this strategy, it can be challenging. While, I wholeheartedly agree with Tim’s messages and appreciate the reinforcement, I think his tone has been hard since returning, especially toward Briggs.
I could tell Briggs’ heart was hurting one night. So, we snuggled up underneath his sheets. He said, “Things were easier when Dad wasn’t here. I’m not sure I’m glad he is back.” That is when the ‘united front’ was critical. I explained to Briggs that we have to be patient. Daddy has been gone for a long time in a rough place and we all just need to get used to being together again.
Just like I wrote several posts ago…Embrace the Suffering…well now it is Embrace the Reintegration. The bottom line…is it takes some time but time is what we have most of right now. I am so happy to be married to this man who has returned HOME!
Imagine the six most content people in the world right now…four kids smiling from ear-to-ear, yelling for their dad’s attention, a mother that finally has some reinforcement and an enormous weight lifted off of her shoulders with the security of her partner out of a war zone, and a father relieved to be home but completely satisfied with a successful mission of bringing 150 soldiers home alive.
We filled the last seat in our van last night on our road trip home…together. It was incredible to look to my side and see my husband. It was equally exciting for Tim to look in the back seats to observe our clan staring at him with amazement. Once we arrived home it was as it always is…crazy.
I know that Tim is haunted with images of a far away place but we will work through those issues slowly. I imagine it will take some time for him to feel normal again. Right now the images below are more exciting to focus on. I cannot thank my brother enough for his amazing gift of capturing single-handedly the most important moment in our lives.
And, to you…our friends, family, and followers…THANK YOU. Thank you for peering into our lives for the last year. Thank you for including us in your prayers (especially Tim). Thank you for all of the small and huge favors. Thank you for your genuine kindness and selfless acts. Thank you for caring about us from a distant or close range. Thank you for supporting these troops on a admirable mission.
Tonight is the LAST NIGHT of Tim’s deployment. It is hard to believe, yet an AMAZING feeling that we made it…sometimes crawling, sometimes skipping, sometimes dancing, sometimes hanging on by a string…but we made it. It was a long year for me, especially when I catalog the milestones each child reached during Tim’s absence. Also, it is hard to actually remember what it was like with all of us together…the Stoner Six seems more like a figment of my imagination at times than a reality.
I am thankful for many things (which I intend to devote an entire post to) but most of all I am thankful that Tim and I had this blog. It was therapy for me, and an outlet for us both. It has kept us tighter than I would have expected at the outset of the deployment. It also allowed many to put a ‘face’ or ‘persona’ with the war who otherwise had no other link.
Ellen, a new friend of mine, who has been battling multiple sclerosis among many other ailments has become an inspiration to me. Her story is incredibly arduous but she exudes nothing but positive energy and a glowing spirit. She wrote me this today…
“The body is kind of a cohesive unit -all parts have to work together because you can only “overuse” one sense for so long. That’s how you and Tim are. A team. A cohesive unit. Both of you have been fighting battles separately for so long - or at least trying to keep the peace as much as possible. You need one another for backup…reinforcement.”
I couldn’t have written anything more precise. Now, less than 24 hours until reinforcement arrives.
If you don’t recognize this sculpture (or the thousands of variations of it…including the U.S. postage stamp) then you have likely been living under a rock (especially if you are from Indiana). It was created in 1976 by the notable and famous pop artist, Robert Indiana. But I hate to offend anyone so let me COMPLETELY offend myself instead. Hold on to your seats…because this story is a doozy.
Nate and I attended an open house at the Stutz Building to visit our friends at Detail and Design. We were having a lovely evening but needed to scadaddle off to dinner with family and friends to celebrate Nate’s birthday.
As we walked out of the Stutz, I saw my van from a distance getting smashed into by a driver attempting to get out of the parking space behind mine. We immediately called the police. It appeared as if the operator of the vehicle was inebriated after demonstrating poor motor skills, some odd jokes, comments that the police weren’t necessary, and some attempts to leave the scene of the accident. At one point, he even tried giving us his card and flipped out some cash. I really let Nate deal with the situation because I was flustered. I kept thinking…just in time for Tim to come home and our van is wrecked!
Now…I am a mother of four and a former President of SADD. I told the police I did not feel comfortable letting the gentleman on the road without a breathalyser. So…in come a cadre of police to surround the scene (and the enormous event at the Stutz, I might add). It was definitely overkill. Come to find out, the gentleman was NOT inebriated but had nerve damage in his feet.
Now during this process, a small group stopped to talk to the older gentlemen who hit my car. I overheard them loudly say in a very sarcastic tone, “ROBERT, DO THEY EVEN KNOW WHO YOU ARE?” So from a distance I replied, “Well, who is he?” Their response, “One of the most famous artists from Indiana and in the WORLD!” So of course, my interest is piqued but we are now handed our papers and asked to proceed.
It was the topic of our dinner conversation. Our friend Monica, the prior catering director at the Indianapolis Museum of Art, said, “Do you think it could have been Robert Indiana? Was he old enough to be born in 1928?” I thought two things: surely not…it could NOT have been Robert Indiana and did she know her minutia.
Let’s just say, I got home, Googled “Robert Indiana” searching immediately for images of him. Within about 30 seconds, I felt like the most enormous loser! Yes indeed…I was standing next to one of the greatest pop artists ever, a huge fan of his, an enormous lover of his messages, an Indiana-native, and me…a total flustered freak.
In hindsight, I wish I would have been more forgiving and not so judgmental. I still would have suggested he was given a breathalyser because his actions certainly warranted it. But I wish I wouldn’t have been so concerned about my silly bumper and actually talked to the man who clearly at 80 years old and an amazing career would have something interesting to say.
Anyone want to make bids on my custom, one-of-kind-Robert Indiana bumper?
I have not felt compelled nor comfortable speaking for anyone but myself during this deployment. We all have varying religious and political beliefs, we raise our children differently, and we might not even have the same interests. However, I am confident about one thing…that the wives of all the soldiers coming home are getting goosebumps (a.k.a The Chills) thinking about seeing our husbands for the first time.
I was running this morning…and even though I was hot and sweaty…I got goosebumps with the thought of seeing Tim. Goosebumps must be contagious because when I have told several people that Tim was finally on U.S. soil they said. “Oh my gosh…I just got the chills.”
I haven’t heard definitively but I am counting on early next week for their arrival HOME! I am also counting on a hangar full of GOOSEBUMPS!
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Special thanks to…Kathy Blackburn for the quick-put-it-in-the-oven-dinner. Julie Hole for the enormous bowl of cookies (she is crazy and sweet). Tiffany Dunbar for watching the kids while I got beautified (haircut/highlight). Alfega for letting us drop in on their backyard munchies. The military wives for the updates via email and phone. Oh…and thanks to all of those that have emailed me with links to “cups”. Looks like I will be making a trip to “Dick’s” today. Nate for having us over so that we could hang out and I could run. The Alcock’s for doing the bulk of the carpooling to and from baseball practice.
One of our friends, David Clements, sent this article to me tonight. I have no idea how he found it but I was grateful to read it. CLICK HERE TO READ IT ON TASK FORCE MARNE. It was great to not only to see a picture of Tim (I am so excited to see him) but to read that authority has formally been transferred (it is real and it is over).
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On a completely separate note…although this one probably deserves its own post…Briggs told me I needed to buy a cup tonight. I clearly wasn’t understanding the type of cup he was referring to when I replied, “I’m not going out to buy any new cups. We have plenty of cups in this house.”
He said, “No…for baseball. I got hit in the balls playing catcher.”
So, once again I find myself in new territory. Do these things fit in underwear? And what if he only has boxers? Wouldn’t it fall out or are tighty whities in his future? Do they have straps? Thank goodness Tim will soon be home. It is like Tim explaining to Campbell how to use a Kotex. Some things are probably just meant for the same gender.
I know Tim is out of Iraq based on a text message I received late last night. I am not sure if he and the troops have left Kuwait, however. My guess is that they are headed to Ft. Hood, Texas by now…but we just don’t know much. I appreciate everyone keeping them in their thoughts and prayers until we know they are safe on US soil.
You cannot imagine how nice it will be to soon call Tim on a phone…actually hit speed dial and hear him answer on the other end. It has been a year of one-way calling. I never considered calling my husband a privilege.
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Special thanks to…Cathy and Nancy for kid-friendly meals. Stacy for a great gals night out at your her new home. My mom for staying with the girls during their nap so I could catch Briggs’ first baseball game. Judy for watching the kids for a few hours so I could run out. Tiffany Dunbar for watching the kids so I could attend a photography seminar. Susan for the groceries.
It is quite lengthy but this video on C-SPAN focuses on the mission of Tim’s unit while in Iraq. I was struck by a few things: 1) It really is brown there. I think these guys will be overzealous to come home to a ‘Field of Green’. 2) I was interested to finally get a visual of their surroundings and where they would hang out. I stopped asking Tim for pictures a long time ago. Nothing like getting it in the end! 3) Their pride is so evident when they describe their mission.
This article in the Indianapolis Star is a great representation of how a simple gesture or a little thing can mean an awful lot to someone else. Click on the link below to read it.
Ever since Tim left from his two-week visit, both girls exuberantly yell out “Daddy” to every man we run across. It has been at the grocery store, the park, and even walking down our street.
While we were at the park this evening, I sensed a woman giving me a strange look after about the third random man the girls yelled out “Daddy” to. I got the sinking feeling she was thinking…this woman is easy!
Then surprisingly, a helicopter flew overhead. Campbell pointed to it and yelled louder than ever, “DADDY!” I knew then she was exactly aware of who her daddy was…he just flew in a giant thing overhead.
When this first began to happen, I felt badly that they were confused or worse just didn’t remember Tim. But I think it is more that they are so enamored with him they cannot wait to see him. And…I cannot wait to see them together again.
We just completed our final combat mission, flying our aircraft out of theatre.
We conducted a multi-ship mission, where all of the aircraft go together. The aircraft departed in three waves (military calls them a serial, or flight) towards Kuwait.
I piloted the last aircraft, of the third wave.
I purposely positioned myself in the last aircraft for two key reasons:
I FIRMLY believe in the leadership principle of “First-in, Last-out” for the Combat Commander. As you may recall last summer, I delivered a post entitled Across the berm - which described me moving out in-advance of the main body (unit). This time-tested principle can be seen in Hollywood movies such as We Were Soldiers (with Mel Gibson portraying Lieutenant Colonel Hal Moore).
I wanted to VISUALLY ensure that all my soldiers, and all of our aircraft, made it out of combat.
I thought about a million things on our flight out of Iraq; getting home to Tiffany and the children, getting my soldiers one step closer to the US, our MEDEVAC mission here and how it truly is the BEST MISSION ON THE BATTLEFIELD, how successful we have been here, the patients lives that we have affected positively and permanently, the support we have received, the prayers that have shielded us from harm, and finally, how fortunate we are to be bringing ALL of our soldiers home to their families.
It has been a tough tour, with continuous work days, bleeding into weeks, blurring into months and mainfesting into a year. However, it has been; incredibly moving, a worthwhile mission, and has left me with a completely positive experience and positive thoughts to be etched in my memory - for the rest of my days.
I took my dad up on his offer to go to dinner tonight. I figured if he was up for it with four young children, then I might as well be too. We picked a new spot in town, Red Robin. I had heard it was loud and kid-friendly. Sounded like a match to me. All went well enough…there was food everywhere but the kids ate well. Even better, Emerson didn’t scream for her life when the larger-than-life-red-robin made his way to our table. (Remember…the Easter Bunny just about threw her off the edge.)
It was on the way out that has left me completely disturbed and angrier than I have been in a long time.
As I was helping Briggs figure out how to play a video game, I looked behind me to see Emerson several feet away with a woman. I walked over to the woman assuming she would comment on Emerson’s beautiful, blue eyes or her cute, blonde curls. However, I was met with a rude tone, “I just want you to know that your girl almost knocked over that sign [commentary - it was a fabric sign attached to a small pole with a robin on it] and it is NOT my fault. You aren’t watching her.”
I responded quite in shock, “I’m sorry. My husband has been deployed to Iraq for a year and it is one of my first attempts to take all of my children out to dinner.”
She said with a shake of her head, “Well, uh…is that my problem?”
My blood hit an immediate boiling point. After a few explicatives behind her back, which unfortunately Briggs was privy to, she WALKED outside to the closest HANDICAPPED spot. Let me add this motion boldly to my Pet Peeves List…watching completely abled-bodies consume handicapped parking spaces.
Now, I am sure you have had many moments in your life that you would like to replay so that you can respond with something wittier, something more profound, something more intelligent or something so honest that it would make the person walk away in shame. So here it is. This is what I would say given the opportunity to Mrs. You Don’t Think It’s Your Problem, Fake Handicapped Woman…
“Guess what…it is your problem. In fact, it is every American’s problem. I just happened to be more deeply affected by the fact that we are at war than you.
Have you sent your brother, grandson, daughter or husband off to war? I suggest you consider right here and now which family member of yours that you would like to volunteer for this war. Which of your loved ones would you like to hug tight and consider that you may never see them alive again? When does it become your problem?
Your are pathetically standing here before me only because my husband is fighting for the right for you to do so. The next time you are inconveniently bothered by a wandering one-year old, you might want to dig down deep into that stale heart of yours and lend a helping hand. Because I can assure you…it is your problem too.
And next time don’t let me see you park in a handicapped space…there is nothing more despicable.”
Okay…I have to give my flanges a break. I about burned up my computer keyboard typing this doozy. I recognize that I have a great deal of anxiety building up and maybe that is why this woman set me off so badly tonight. We just came off a long Spring Break, I haven’t talked to Tim in weeks, I know his arrival is pending, I am losing patience with my extremely busy and needy children more often, and I am just plain tired of being alone.
So, let me at least on a thankful note…I am glad I never ran into people this ignorant over the past year. I am thankful that I have been surrounded by dear, grateful, kind people that truly understand the sacrifice soldiers and their families endure during a deployment. I was adamant about not entering this war from the beginning but we are there now. It isn’t just my problem…as Americans, it is all of our problem.
P.S. After I explained to Briggs the mistake I had made in using the “F” word, he said, “I think Daddy would have been mad at that lady too.” Then he turned to Emerson sitting next to him in the van and cheered, “Only three more weeks, Em, and Daddy will be home!”
Tim sent me a copy of the note attached below. It happens to be from the daughter of one of our closest friends. I love the sheer honesty and sweetness of children.
As I was lacing my sneakers for a run the other day, Gage asked me (as always) if I would be returning. I assured him I would be back in 45 minutes. He asked me why I was running anyway. I told him it was healthy to exercise and besides that I need to reduce my butt size. He then asked me if he could see it. So I turned around and cocked my hip for his interest. He said to me, “Looks fine to me.” I thanked him but then hit the road. What does a three-year old know anyway?
When I returned, he was excited to see me and my rear. He asked me to turn around again. I did so thinking I might get another nice compliment to hang on to. Honest Abe looked straight at me and said, “You might want to go do that again!” Now that is funny.
As we near the end of our combat tour, I wanted to take a moment and “smell the roses” (or desert dust, burn-pit pollution, aircraft engine exhaust and aviation fuel - in our case). Yesterday, a few of our soldiers were able to get away for a few hours in the early morning before sunrise.
It was an unusual field trip, decorated with body armor, Kevlar helmets, and weapons - but nonetheless, very interesting. We visited a famous Ziggurat, near Nasiriyah - called the Great Ziggurat of Ur. In addition to it’s 4000 year ancestry, it also contains the world’s oldest known archway (about the width of a modern doorway).
More on the “Zig” from Wikipedia>>>
The Ziggurat was built as a place of worship, dedicated to the moon god Nanna (or Suen. The name Nannais Sumerian for “illuminator.”), in the Sumerian city of Ur in ancient Mesopotamia. The temple, a huge stepped platform, was constructed approximately in the 21st century BC by king Ur-Namma. In Sumerian times it was called Etemennigur. Today, after more than 4000 years, the ziggurat is still well preserved in large parts, and partially reconstructed, as the only major remainder of Ur in present-day southern Iraq.
We had a peaceful evening…we built forts, setup a surgery center, watched Mr. Mom (one of our all-time favorites), and made magic rocks. Everyone seemed happy…getting along relatively well…not much drama. But toward the end of night, Briggs started falling apart.
He said to me with tears burning his eyes, “You have hurt my feelings everyday that daddy has been gone.” Talk about stabbing me in the heart. He continued with, “I liked it when it was just the three of us. Not all of my stuff got ruined.”
Interestingly enough, as he was ranting, the four charms on my necklace (the one I have not removed in a year) were dangling near his face. He started playing with each of them. I asked him how he would like my necklace if there was just one charm? He agreed it would be boring without his sisters and brother around. I explained that I liked it when it was just the three of us but I liked it much more with all of us.
Just before this onslaught of emotions, a good friend and military wife called me (thanks, Gwen). She said she was having a hard time and just wanted her husband home safe…out of Iraq. We seem to go through the same waves of emotions but at different times. Perhaps there was something in the air tonight. Perhaps it is just the nervous energy of their return home. The good thing is that it is soon…very soon!
I was recently asked at my neighborhood Bible Study what I was most grateful for. I boldly responded, “Without question I am most grateful for Tim’s deployment.” I believe most were shocked around the room because this group of women has been particularly supportive over the past year.
I didn’t answer my health, my children or the safety of my husband. I didn’t even contemplate my answer because it encompasses all of that and more.
The deployment has forged deeper relationships (husband, children, family, friends, God) than I have ever had because I am more open than I have ever been (just read this blog for Pete’s sake). Forcibly, I have required myself to also find something to be thankful for each day no matter how much suffering ensued that day.
I truly respect my health, and that which my body can endure. I have suffered through, what I hope, are some of the darkest moments in my life. As deployed wives, there is no doubt that we have an immense responsibility when our husbands are deployed. On top of the incredible weight of keeping our families and homes intact, let’s be honest, there is also the overriding fear that our husbands won’t return. No one understands that feeling like a woman left behind while her soldier fights a war. However, without being trite, what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger!
Everyday you can witness me rolling my eyes at the drama that ensues between the walls of our home. Everyday I yell at my children. Everyday I look forward to bedtime when the house is peaceful. BUT…everyday I love my children more authentically because I know that it has not been painless with just me. They have equally suffered, if not greater. What I do hope they learn from the suffering is to be more resilient and resourceful. I hope someday they will be tougher for it but also cherish our family unit more than they would have otherwise.
The love for my husband is greater for not only what he is doing for our country but his self-fulfillment. I respect him for providing for this family and keeping us close to his heart. I love my family and friends more for the sacrifices they have consistently made to support me both emotionally and logistically. And quite frankly, I love myself more because I believe I have maintained some form of dignity.
I would encourage those who are currently in the midst of a deployment (Hang On!), coming to the end of one (Amen!), or finding yourself close to one (Bless You!) to embrace the suffering! You will be more authentic in the end.
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Special thanks to…Randy Julian for setting up the trampoline with the most perfect timing…SPRING BREAK! Now the kids have no reason to be bored. Maureen Peterson for the fabric…cannot wait to use it for the girl’s room someday.
We all have them. Mine are now conveniently cataloged in the pages of my Listography book. One of my biggest pet peeves came through me like a tidal wave as I was taking the girls for a nice stroll through the neighborhood today. So here are my top four:
1) I come ulglued when yahoos don’t pull over for ambulances. Assuming that we are all driving with valid driver licenses, we have all taken Drivers Ed and/or a state exam at the license branch. So here is the bottom line…when you hear or see an ambulance and are in its direct path, PULL OVER. Imagine how you would feel if it were your child with a potentially broken neck or your father suffering a massive coronary. Personally, I think all ambulances should be equipped with video cameras on the front of their vehicles. For every car that does not pull over, they should be automatically issued a ticket and a BIG ONE! We might just see a little common courtesy come back into effect.
2) If you wanna see the Mama Bear come out in me then speed down my street. And I am not the only one. I know a few other mama bears that live around these parts! Likely the same yahoos who don’t pull over for ambulances are also going 50 down tree-lined streets with playsets set in most backyards. But nothing brings out the rage in me more when you put my children and others in danger. Where there are neighborhoods inhabited by small children, keep the speed down…or not only will you go to jail for killing some innocent child you will also have it on your conscience for the rest of your life. I am confident by the end of the summer I will make a civilian arrest. So watch out all you young teens or contractors (sorry to stereotype)…do not speed near my home.
3) Don’t be a litter bug. I had a flashback to the late-70s when I saw someone open a piece of gum and throw the wrapper on the ground last week. When I was a child, I remember my father pulling a car over on the interstate because the driver threw an entire bag of McDonald’s trash out his window. There are some images that stay with you…that is one! Had I actually been in a position to tell this candy-wrapper-thrower to go pick up his trash I would have. People…we have one Earth…take care of it!
4) I don’t want to see your underwear and I certainly don’t want to see your crack! Now this last pet peeve is likely directed more towards teens but I am tired of seeing young boys with their underwear hanging out and the constant pull up motion of their overly saggy pants. This is not a good look. Equally distasteful is seeing some crack hang out of the back of a young girls pants because her hip huggers are way too low. Just cover it up!
Now after all of that ranting I feel a little better. Anyone else care to add?
This post goes out to all the extraordinary people, companies, and aficionados everywhere who have been supporting us in Iraq! They have made the tour a little easier - by sending GREAT cigars to our soldiers!
Thank you for your continued support, generousity, and patriotism!
Roll call:
Tom Noonan Herfer’s Paradise (& all the cigar contributors) Top Shelf Cigar Carmel Cigar & Tobacco Joel & Debbie Hackleman from Wine Jockey Jimmy Hunter David LeVine David Rowe The Cohen Family
The girls are growing. They have really become buddies. They play together, wrestle, and occupy one another’s world. I figured that they have only been apart on two occasions in their lives. It is hard for me to imagine what it must feel like to have a companion always.
In an attempt to get them out more, we went to the gym several times last week. Every time I left them with dramatic tears. When I returned on one occasion, they were sitting as close as they could possibly get with their stubby legs stretched out in front of them. They were in the middle of an enormous room of wild, loud children but to me they looked like the only two in the room. They were completely engaged with one another.
Tonight, my neighbor, Sylvia, stopped by out-of-the-blue (I love that!). After she stayed awhile, she had a train of my children accompany her home. Briggs wanted to play with her son. Gage wanted to follow (of course). And, Campbell was promised a spa bath and blow dry! Off they went.
So…for the third time in their lives Campbell and Emerson were apart. Emmy and I read books, tried on summer clothes, played with her pink cowgirl boots, and organized their closet. At one point, I looked at her and said, “Kind of boring without everyone but the quiet is kind of nice.”
As I stared at their drawers I thought…this is going to change so fast. I see a lot of pink and lavender with an occasional mint green splashed into the mix. I see a lot of footie pajamas and sundresses. But I know soon that I’ll be washing tank tops and jeans that barely cover their booties (and not the kind they wear on their feet).
Given the circumstances of the last year, I have been ecstatic with each new milestone they have reached. I knew it got us closer to Tim being home. I knew somehow (hopefully) it would make daily life seem a little easier.
I was thankful when they could finally walk, when I made them give up their bottles cold turkey on New Years Eve, when they finally slept through the night, when I didn’t have to watch them both descend down the stairs on wobbly legs, when they finally would sit through an episode of Sesame Street so that I could also sit, when they could actually fetch their own shoes (matching not a prerequisite) and so-on.
But as I stared into their closet tonight, I was hoping to not see training bras occupy those drawers any time soon. I would like the progression to slow down now so that Tim and I can really enjoy raising our family.
FROM BEGINNING TO PRESENT
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Special thanks to…Jill Gardner for all of the hand-me-downs. You scored some major points with the castle. Jen Mourfield and Sue Ledvina for the perfect kind of dinner…Chick-Fil-A. Shelly Savage for more kid-friendly food. And…Dick Wolfsie for giving me the opportunity to finally give to someone else by answering a ‘Bucket List’ request. More on that one later.
Today marks the 20th anniversary of my enlistment in the Army and of course, the environment I am in has afforded me the time and opportunity to reflect on everything.
In 1988, I enlisted as “Private Stoner.” Since then, it’s been a wonderful journey, great experience, and a remarkable tranformation.
From the enlisted ranks - to a commissioned officer. From the infantry - to aviation. From a young soldier - to combat commander. Each experience building on the next, broadening the way I look at things and how I developed.
However, the greatest transformation was not in the ranks of the Army - but outside those ranks.
The most rewarding and proudest accomplishment, was the transformation to husband and the maturation as a father.
Marrying Tiffany was the most pivotal moment in this transformation. A moment that would change everything in my life, forever. She has been my compass; helping me develop as a man, helping me grow as her husband, and helping me flourish as a father.
I have been fortunate enough to stand by her side and raise a wonderful family.
You never know what tomorrow may bring, so I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to say THANK YOU!
My silence has been deliberate. For as long as Tim was home, it has taken us to return to normal.
Today I found myself running and crying…neither of which, I can assure you, come easily to me but am proud I can do. I considered what it will be like to hug my husband the moment he is home PERMANENTLY. I can imagine it will feel more intense than the day I married him and the days we brought our children into this world. For our family will be intact…and more importantly, his safety will no longer be at the forefront of my thoughts.
I have tried remaining very positive during the deployment. However, there have been several moments over the past two weeks where I have struggled to muster up that kind of energy. In fact, there were, what I call my ‘morbid moments’, where I considered the thought of Tim not returning. I know it is common but before his visit I could live in a relatively ignorant, don’t-have-many-details world. However, as I hoped and expected, Tim shared a lot of his deployment experiences. Then, last week (as you know from his posts) there were several soldiers killed while driving on base. This news somewhat compounded the ‘morbid thoughts.’
One evening I asked God to reveal himself to me more. A response came a few days later when I was in the midst of a terrible day…one by one…random friends called or stopped by unannounced, a card was left in my mailbox, a meal and Easter Lilly were delivered, and Briggs’ sadness finally ceased. I figure it was just the kind of response I needed.
So…I am back!
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Special thanks to…Tiffany Dunbar for the rock. Janice Brittsan for the phone call. Cathy Dwyer for being a rock. Alfega for your genuine kindness. Sue Mantel for jumping my dead van. Judy for bailing me out. My little buddy, Kristen Hohman, for her visits. Angela and Mary for a great lunch outing. Melissa for calling even with an infant at home. Stacy…always Stacy. Debbie for her friendship. Gwen Kuhns for her phone call. And all of the women for the AO Bible Study. Monica Richard for being of great help. Julie Bacher for a great and unexpected encounter. Jeni for her cute text messages. Nate and Helena for the unselfish giving of their time and the love they give to my children. Aunt Nine for her advice. Mom and Bill for having some special private time with each boy. And…to me for finally getting current on images. I spend so much time with wedding and portrait images for everyone else I have neglected to print any images of my own since Gage was a baby. I have 86 collage prints coming my way. I am so excited!!!
I’ve written before about the attacks that are launched against our base with IDF. Indirect Fire consists of either rockets or mortar rounds that are lobbed-in from neighboring areas into the base.
IDF attacks have increased here over the last two weeks; in frequency, duration, and severity.
Our unit suffered NO losses, whatsoever. We are 100% good-to-go.
Look for a follow-up from me, once the press publishes the information.
