Call Of Duty And The Duck Face Mom

So I was just going through some old photos and I had the most hilarious thought. What if our parents...or better yet, our grandparents... acted the way we act. No seriously, think about it. Imagine going through a box of old family photos and finding a picture of your grandma like this Would you still think of her as the self-sacrificing Greatest Generation matriarchal hero that you see her as now? Would you see her as the oldest and wisest person you have ever met? What if you saw a war-time photo of your grandfather. What if it looked like this? As a child, I looked up to my grandparents. My grandmother raised ten children. My grandfather was a WWII and Korean War hero. He watched them raise the flag at Iwo Jima! They worked so hard, and they raised amazing people, and they were respectable and sensible and honest and good. I can't help but think that my opinion of them may have been slightly different if these were the images I found in frames at their house or in dusty old boxes. I get it... it was a different generation. It was a long time ago. They didn't even have computers back then, for heaven's sake. So what about our parents? That's a little more realistic...right? I had a good childhood. My dad taught me to camp and fish and play golf. My mom taught me to cook and save lost and injured animals and love children. So what if you came home from school everyday, and your mom was sitting at the computer in sweat pants arguing with strangers about politics or liking photos of cats. What if your dad got home from work, cracked open a beer and settled in for some good old Xbox time. Seriously, can you even imagine it? I know none of us had an ideal life. I know a lot of us had moms who worked and we ate way too much takeout instead of home cooked meals. I know a lot of us had dads married to their job who spent hours a night in their office doing important "dad" things. But they were like... being productive. You know? They were doing... I don't know... things. Things that mattered. I look around, and I am struck by how very unproductive we are content to be. Our generation. Mine and yours. What are we doing? What are we creating? What legacy are we leaving our kids? I feel a little ashamed, honestly. We had it so good.. you know? We had these generations of people to look up to and be proud of. What are our kids going to have? What are we teaching them? I know most of us do the important things that we are supposed to. We teach them the basics. We do the mandatory parenting things... some of us even do it just because we like to, not because we would be societal outcasts if we were as lazy as we actually want to be. But what else are we teaching? My daughters might grow up and seriously think it is normal for their husband to play video games! I am sorry... I nearly got through that with a straight face. Look... I know I have friends who are gamers (I can't believe there is a name for it). I love you all. Really... I do. But I'm sorry. It is just so.... weird. When I was a kid and even a preteen I loved playing with dolls. I loved playing elaborate make believe games with my friends and family. I loved playing dress up. When I was a teenager, I loved having sleepovers with my girlfriends and trying out different hairstyles and make up styles. We would get a million magazines and cut out pictures of our favorite actors or singers or perfume scents and we would make elaborate collages on our walls. I loved doing that! It was like, my favorite thing. But can you even imagine if I still did that...now? It would be completely absurd. This is gaming to me. It is the equivalent to me still playing with my friends hair and making Christian Bale (Newsies!) collages. You would laugh at me. You would think there was something seriously wrong with me. And yet I (and my daughters) are supposed to accept that you are the head of the household. The breadwinner and spiritual advisor for our home... when you think this is normal and appropriate. Oh baby. Oh baby. That's hawt. No, but seriously. With a bunch of duck-face self portrait moms and gaming dads... Just what are our kids going to be like? And who.. I wonder... are they going to look up to?

...And We'll Remember When

The other day, as I was juggling homework with our six daughters (ages 7-12), dinner prep, and trying to convince our son that he really should find something to do other than watch ANOTHER episode Blue’s Clues, and that no… the kitty does not like to play football, my phone alerted me that I had just received an email from my husband.

  It’s funny how even when he’s not deployed, I stop whatever I am doing to check my email, read a text, or answer my phone. I even still get butterflies in my stomach…just like I did when we were new.

His message was just a regular “catching up” midway through the day email. He was telling me that he ran into a friend who is here for his annual training… then I read this…

  “…..He's going to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro next month! That's kind of awesome. He Asked if I wanted to go... can I can I can I??? Hahaha. He's going by himself cause he can't find anyone who will go ...probably that's a good indication that it's a bad idea. I think it's awesome though.. it's also 4 grand ... blah. Ok love you.”

Right there, in the midst of all of the insanity, I had the clearest image of my husband proudly standing at the summit of Mt Kilimanjaro… head held high as he posed for a photo next to the American flag and the Army flag. I had to make this happen.

I know him. There is no way he would run up credit card debt for our family of nine to live under just so he could go on the trip of a lifetime. Unfortunately, we aren’t in a position at this point in our lives to just take the money out of savings and make the reservations. But this IS a once in a lifetime chance. I have to at least try.

The fact that he even mentioned it tells me how much he wants to go. He never asks for anything. Ever. He just takes care of us all, and is completely content as long as I tickle his back as he falls asleep every now and then. His whole life, has been about taking care of, and making life better for those he loves.

When he was a sophomore in college, he received the news that his on-again, off-again girlfriend was pregnant. He married her immediately. I asked him once why he married her, and he said “Because that’s what I was supposed to do.” That sounds simple…but that’s Doug. If it’s the right thing to do, then he does it. And he doesn’t just sort of do it. He really commits to it, and he excels.

He had big plans for his life at that point. He was attending the University of Georgia (Go Dawgs!!) and planned to graduate and then head off to dental school at the Medical College of Georgia. Upon completion, he would move back to his small hometown and take over his dad’s dental practice just as he was ready to retire. It was a perfect plan. But now he was a husband … and more important to him… a father.

He joined UGA’s ROTC program and never looked back. He had to make a life for his family, and he had to make it quick. He chose the Infantry, because that’s just how he is. He and his wife graduated from UGA within months of one another and he accepted his commission into the United States Army. He was given the opportunity to attend the Infantry Officers Basic Course (IOBC) Airborne School and Ranger School. He proudly graduated all three.

In 2003 he was ready to start his career. His first duty station was Ft Lewis, Washington where he was given command of 3rd Platoon, Aco, 2-3 Infantry. Within just a couple of months of arriving at Ft Lewis with his little family, he was told to prepare to deploy. The war in Iraq was just winding up, and someone had to go battle test the Army’s newest toy. The Stryker.

  He learned a lot that deployment. Most importantly, he would tell you, was how important NCOs are. He learned real quick that a wet-behind-the-ears Lieutenant didn’t know nearly as much as a Sergeant, and he earned the trust and admiration of his men because he was never too proud to let them know that he needed them. He also learned that getting promoted while deployed could result in the hazing of a lifetime. All in good fun, of course.

He deployed twice out of Ft Lewis; the first time for twelve months, and the second for fifteen. His commitment to his family, his country, and his men never faltered. Unfortunately, not all women are made to be Army wives and upon returning from his first deployment he learned that his wife had moved on. She had also decided to take his children and move back to Georgia. He took it very, very hard. Even though this wasn’t the life he had planned, it was the life he had been given and he was committed to making it a good one for his wife and his two little girls. The loss of the women in his life left very deep scars.

I found him shortly after my nearly nine year marriage ended, and he helped me cope with the realities of my new life as the single mother of four young daughters. I think we helped each other. Somewhere along the way, we fell in love and our conversations turned towards the realities of making a long term relationship work. We had six girls between us, all under the age of eight. His girls lived in Georgia and I lived in Oregon.

  He asked me to marry him in May of 2008, and I began making plans to move my little family down to Georgia so that we could all be together. Life has been pretty hard at times. Right after our marriage, we were served with papers and made aware of his ex wife’s intention to modify the custody arrangement and take his two daughters permanently away from him. No amount of training or combat could have prepared him for the challenges that we faced at that early stage in our marriage.

We tried to make the best of things as the battle for our family raged on. Our daughters grew as close as “real” sisters, and we prepared to welcome our son into our little (big) family. We found our faith in those difficult times. We learned to see the importance family in a way few ever do. The case dragged on for two whole years, and took a heavy toll on him. At times I would watch him, watching his daughters play, and it broke my heart to see his pain as he tried to imagine his life without them. Every moment of every day, life without them was at the forefront of all of our minds.

  And then one day… it was over. The judge had ruled in favor of our family. In fact, he amended the Order and gave my husband full custody of his daughters as well as the Court’s blessing to start a new life for all of us in North Carolina. It was indescribable. Peace. Our family finally had peace.

I wonder sometimes, if we would be as strong and as close as we are if we hadn’t had to endure such difficulty. I think that probably we would have still gotten here, but I can’t say that I would choose to have it any different than it was. Our family was tested in ways that could have easily broken us. But Doug wouldn’t let that happen. You see, he doesn’t fail. Even when everything seems to be falling apart, he never lets go of his simple promise that he’s kept to himself since he was a wide-eyed college kid facing parenthood unexpectedly.

  He takes care of his family.

Life is good now. We are settled in North Carolina; he works at Ft Bragg and has left the line for the office. Ah, the plight of officers everywhere. Eventually… you’re going to end up behind a desk. He takes us camping and sometimes rushes home from work so he can take us out to the lake for a couple of hours before it gets dark. He is active in our church youth group, and keeps a close eye on the boys… who have begun keeping a close eye on our eldest daughters.

  He’s up before five most mornings, but he never forgets to kneel beside me and say our prayers before he leaves for work. He’s never too tired to stay up late and help our older girls with math homework or science projects. Sometimes, when all the kids are tucked in bed and we have a moment alone, he gets out his guitar and sings to me. And we talk about all the amazing things we are going to get to do, and see, and experience as we watch our family grow and evolve.

 Someday, our house will be empty and quiet and we’ll find new things to occupy our time. I’ll paint and he’ll write songs and our grandchildren will think we are so boring. But maybe they’ll be able to look at pictures, of Paw Paw in Iraq, and in Ranger School, and at the Summit of Mt Kilimanjaro, and think that he must have been pretty cool…before he was old.

.

While Laying On My Husband's Chest.....

So I've been sitting here for the last ten minutes trying to decide if I felt like writing this morning. I mean.. I always feel like writing, but I have so much to do today, and I know that I am generally long winded, so I wasn't sure if I should embark on another self absorbed.. attention whoring.. blah blah blah session. Of course the pull was too great.. and so here I am.

I'm laying in bed right now. I feel so incredibly lazy! Its 1115 and I'm still in my jammies all snuggled up in my wonderfully cozy bed, I have my coffee (that my oldest daughter made for me and Doug and brought us in bed), my computer is resting against the growing little critter in my tummy, and it seems to me that there is no reason on earth that I should get up. Doug has the next few days off, the kids are all home for the week and its simply perfect.

Doug and I were laying in bed a little bit ago, (since I'm still trying to be goodkate I am not going to mention what we may or may not have been doing right before this conversation began) but I was laying on my husband's chest while he played with my hair and gently tickled my back and shoulder.. every now and then tracing the line of my jaw, or the bridge of my nose with his fingers... mmmm.. his hands, that make me feel so small and fragile. I love his hands. Anyway.. we were talking about what we were doing this time last year. And it was all so different.

Last November, he was preparing to get out of the Army. He lived at Ft Lewis, and I lived in Portland. It's about a two hour drive, and one that we were both very familiar with. He would drive down every weekend, and sometimes during the week. It was all wonderful when he first got back from Iraq.. we were finally able to see each other whenever we wanted to, he was getting to know my girls, and they were falling in love with him. We watched Georgia games, Tessa tormented him with her UT garb, we took a big camping trip, he was getting to know my crazy family.. it was all just as we'd imagined. But.. in the back of both of our minds the sand in the hourglass was getting low. You see.. for about a year we had talked. And talked and talked and talked. We had planned our lives together. Planned how I would be incorporated into his childrens' lives. Planned how we would make ends meet with all these kids. We had talked about it all. And it was so safe, and so perfect.. because it was always so far away. It was as if we were talking about some distant time that we didnt' have to really think about. It was always.. "When I get out and move back to Bremen." But it was so far away. Until it wasn't anymore. And last November.. it was so close. And he was getting worried. And I... knew it. He would be distant when he would come down. He stopped tucking the girls in bed at night when he was down visiting. We stopped talking about our future. I was losing him. And I knew it.

But what do you do? How do you fight a fight.. when you don't even know who the enemy is? I knew that he was worried. I knew that he was overwhelmed. I knew.. that the realities of moving me and my girls to Georgia were scary as hell now that he had to make choice of some sort. I didn't know what to do. I told him that I loved him. And that I wished he would stop worrying so much and just love me. I tried to tell him that things have a way of working out if they are meant to be. He told me he agreed. But the chasm between us was growing. He used to tell me he loved me. And I remember one day, telling him that I felt like he was trying to convince himself that he loved me .. and that's why he was saying it so often. When he couldn't argue against my suspicion.. I knew I'd lost him. I went over the last year in my head. How we'd gone from friends, to lovers, to something deeper, and more than either of us had ever experienced. I KNEW that he felt what I did. I KNEW that it wasn't just me. I KNEW that it was real. And I also knew, that even though we were still technically together.. I had lost him. I knew, that it was only a matter of time before he moved back to Bremen.. and then he would be gone forever.

I stopped fighting the distance between us. I stopped talking about "us" and our future. I stopped myself, every time my heart ached and I wanted to wrap my arms around him and tell him that he was ruining the most perfect thing he'd ever had. We went through the last few days he was there almost mechanically. We still acted the same.. we pretended like we were going to make it work past his move. His last night in Portland with me, we stayed at a beautiful hotel in historic downtown. I remember, as I fell asleep that night.. laying on him just the same as I lay on him this morning. I asked him.. right before I fell asleep, to tell me that everything was okay. That we were going to make it. He told me of course we were.. and assured me that in two weeks, I would be visiting him in Bremen. My heart sank as I realized for the first time in our time together that Doug had lied to me. We both knew it. And so I nuzzled into his thick chest savoring the comfort of his big arms around me for what we both knew was the last time.

The next day.. as they began their southeastern journey, he and his dad stopped in Portland so that I could meet Paul and we could have lunch one last time. It was a lovely lunch. Paul had me laughing so hard I had tears running down my face. I was painfully aware that the brush of Doug's leg against my own, the way his hand felt as he rested it on my thigh during the meal, the way he laughed, the way he smelled.. all of it would soon fade. He would be just another memory of another failed relationship. When our meal was over, he walked me back to my car at a parking garage opposite where he and his dad had parked. We were quiet. He was excited, and I knew it, to be headed out on the next leg of his life's journey. He was out of the Army.. he was returning to his beloved Bremen, and his beloved girls. I knew that he was excited. And I was breaking. He sat in my car for a minute. I gave him some Cd's that I'd made for him to listen to on his long drive. (Nothing sappy.. just a whole bunch of great songs.. sheesh.. what do you people take me for?) And then we said goodbye. I snapped a picture of us. And then we kissed as my tears began to well. I knew, that I was letting him go. And I so.. with all of my heart was not ready to. Then, he got out of my car. And walked away. This was December 21st.

We went through the motions on his trip home. He called when he had to, and answered the phone when I'd call. But the conversation was empty. He made it to Georgia.. and as he neared exit 11, he called me. It was late at night, and I answered a little bit sleepy. He said "Babydawl, I'm about to drive into Bremen.. and I wanted you to be on the phone with me when I did." My heart fluttered just a little bit. We were always so cheesy with each other. He got home. And we hung up. It was Christmas Eve Day.

We talked twice after that. And then.. on the day after Christmas, we got on the phone. He had been gone all day and I'd not been able to reach him. He finally called back and told me he'd been out with Ray and Chad. I knew.. what he wanted. And I knew.. that more than that.. he didn't want to hurt me. And so, I gave him an out. I told him.. that I thought that maybe he needed some time to settle in Bremen. That maybe he needed some time to tend to his relationships with his friends and family that had suffered over the years that he'd been gone. I told him that I thought I was keeping him from doing what he wanted to be doing.. and I didn't want us to begin to resent each other. I didn't want for things to get ugly.. they had always been so perfect. I hoped, desperately, that he would tell me I was crazy.. that he loved me more than he ever had and that he could never see me as a hindrance. I heard silence on the line. And finally he said "Babe, I think you might be right." "Okay." I said as the tears welled. "I love you Doug." "God, I'm so sorry." was the reply. He told me he had always loved me. And that he wouldn't stop. I knew.. that couldn't be true. And so.. I said goodbye.

I went into the bathroom as I hung up the phone.. my house was full of family and little girls. I barely made it. As soon as the door closed, my knees crumpled. I surrendered to the most pathetic crying fit I have ever allowed myself. I sat on the bathroom floor and cried. Like I hadn't cried since I was a little girl. I was broken. And the one person that I had believed would never hurt me had broken me. I hated him. And I loved him. And I missed him so damn much. I prayed. I asked God Why? Why had he given me this man, given me this comfort and this peace that I had found in him, the most unselfish love I had ever experienced. Why had he given me this.. only to take it away. I asked him if it was right. If I had just made a mistake in letting him go so easily, or if I should call him back.. and fight for this. My answer came.. in the most peaceful feeling. The warmth that washed over me was the same that I had felt at other times in my life when I had given up control completely and asked Him to take over. Yes. This was right. And no, there was nothing for me to do. I didn't understand it. But I was immediately calm. I dried my eyes, composed myself, and went out to hug my babies. Somehow.. this was right. Somehow.. it was all going to be okay.

Autumn Musings...

So I'm assuming by "note" they mean blog. This just being facebook's way of further separating themselves from other social networking sites. Right? Okey dokey.. so we'll call it a "note". Wink facebook.

For those who were "friends" with me before I had the mother of all temper tantrums and deleted my myspace, to include my entire written history with Doug and years worth of insanely clever blogs, I'm sure you are all breathing a collective sigh of relief. And maybe a few uncertain flinches. "Ahhh.. she's taken to the keyboard again." I'm going to give it a shot. But it doesn't really feel the same. I liked my cozy little myspace spot that I had made and have kicked myself a few times for my short sightedness in banishing it to the darkest depths of the cyberlandfill. Really, I just need to get control of my temper. But that's another story entirely.


Anyway, as I sit down to write for the first time in a very long time.. I find myself reflecting on the last couple of years. Autumn, for whatever reason always finds me in a bit of a reflective mood..Maybe it's the impending end of yet another year. Maybe it's the notable change in the way things look outside. I don't really know.. but this year is no different. The Holidays are approaching and as I look around and see everyone preparing I can't help but get a little bit nostalgic, and feel a little bit alone.

I have lived all over this country and have spent more Holidays away from family than I have with family. But for some reason.. this is different. In fact, this whole experience has been different. Perhaps I should back track.

(Que Star Wars Theme..)

A long time ago.. In a state far, far away....

I was just reeling from the loss of my marriage. Granted I had ended it, but that doesn't make it any easier to see the only life that you've known as an adult slip away until finally there is nothing left to salvage and you are left with two choices. I knew, that I could either accept my husband's infidelity (since after eight years it didn't show any sign of easing) and be one of THOSE women (Val who?) who choose to put on a happy face and turn a blind eye to their husbands extra curricular activities, or divorce him. It seems like it should be an easy choice.. and it is easy for someone from the outside looking in to ponder why it was even a choice at all. "Hello?? Cheating dirtbag... Leave his ass!" But it's never that easy.

Chris and I had spent our entire youth together. I met him when I was fifteen and we started dating when I was seventeen. We had the greatest time together.. and got along so well. He was very good to me, and after the insanity I had put myself through in my early youth.. he was my savior. So when he came to my work a couple of weeks before he left for Basic, and got down on his knee to ask me to accompany him on the adventure that he was about to embark on.. I didn't hesitate for a moment. We were young and in love, and had the whole world at our fingertips. We got married and then moved to Kentucky. And life, although hard on a Private's pay, was good. We had the "perfect" marriage and were the envy of all our friends. We had our first daughter.. he made rank.. and life was good.

And then Korea.

Really, our story should have ended there. It would have saved so many people so much heartache. But, we decided to stick around and beat each other to death for a few more years. More babies, more deployments, more affairs. He was the perfect husband at home. Attentive, fun, kind.... But the second he would leave our home, he was a different person. He always told me about his latest slip up when he would get home. And for many years I just forgave. Marriage, after all means forever. Although I was young I did not take my vows lightly. In my mind.. divorce was simply not an option. And so I stayed. And stayed and stayed and stayed. And then he went to Iraq again. I was in Hawaii.. alone without anyone close to me. My family was on the west coast, and all my friends had gone back to the mainland for the deployment. I was prepared to play the loyal wife for yet another year alone when I got an email. Another one. From another woman who had met my husband and fallen for him. I don't know what it was that made this time so much different, but it was.. the proverbial straw. Perhaps I was just tired. I had a five year old, a two year old, and one year old twins. And I just didn't have it in me to fight this fight again. And so I moved back to Oregon. I found a house a good distance from my parents..because although I love them.. they were the LAST thing I needed at the time.

And so there I was.. the Star Wars theme blaring in the background.. trying to decide what to do with myself. .. if I was REALLY willing to throw away all that I had worked so hard to make. The life that I had built for my babies. Was I being selfish? Was it fair to leave my girls without a Daddy.. to be the one to make the call that our family would be no more.. just because I was unhappy? The answer came.. in the oddest of places.

(Enter Doug)

As I sat on my couch one night..in front of the most lovely stone hearth fireplace... I found myself at the bottom of yet another bottle. I had never been one to drink hard alcohol.. but for some reason my move back to Portland brought with it many many changes. As I look back now, I realize there was a real problem. And my mother's looks of concern (with just a liiiiitle bit of judgement thrown in) when she would come over and find yet another empty bottle of Bacardi in my cupboard make a little more sense to me now. So anyway.. there I was. ( So there I was...) All my girls were asleep, I was bent, and I signed into myspace. I smiled a bit to myself when I found another email from Lt (now Captain) Hague. I had known him before you see.. a long time ago.. when things were so much different for us both.

I remember the first time I heard his name. My husband called from Iraq (on the first deployment in 2003) and told me that they had a new PL (platoon leader) and that he was the best PL he'd ever had. Lt Hague... he said, "But we all call him Dougy". It struck me a little funny.. not really the way enlisted men generally address their officers. But okay. Then a few weeks later, he sent me a bunch of pictures. One of them was of a handsome young man with a stubborn look about him, a chiseled jawline and sunglasses. This one.. peaked my interest. And so, the next time I talked to my husband.. I teased him a bit asking "Soooo.. who was that guy in the picture you sent me?" Laughter filled the line as he proved how well he knew me. "That.." he said "is The LT. I KNEW you'd like him.. that's why I sent you the pic." We had a good joke about it.. and from then on, poor unsuspecting Lt Hague was referred to between my husband and I as "My Boyfriend". (That's foreshadowing folks..)

The deployment ended and the men all returned. Some, like Doug came home to unfaithful wives and empty bank accounts. The horrors that await so many of the men that return from war make the pain that they endure over their deployments pale in comparison. And for Doug.. that was what life brought him. Some men, like Chris, came home to new babies (Elena was born when he'd been gone for just two months) and families who had stood by them through the year and were joyful at the prospect of picking their lives up again. Doug and Chris came back to very different situations. Doug was like me.. he knew that his marriage was a farce.. But he had taken vows, and even though they were just to make an unplanned pregnancy honorable, they were still his vows. And of course, over the years, he had come to love his wife. So when her infidelity came to light, he tried to make it work anyway. It was a tough time for them both. She wanted out, but knew that he was a good loyal man.. and that she was absolutely crushing him with her continued affairs. What do you do in that situation? I have judged her very harshly for a very long time. After all.. I cannot imagine hurting a man like him. But, I also know how it is to find yourself in a marriage that you never should have been in. I know, that temptation is always there.. and that even a moment of weakness can change everything. As a woman, I can see how it all happened. As the wife of a soldier who deployed many times, I can see how it happened. My anger and judgement has stemmed mostly from a love for Doug. A fiercely protective side of me that damns anyone who hurts those that I love. But I imagine.. that it was very hard for her also. And so, it went back and forth for them. Him trying, but secretly hating her for all that she was doing. Her trying to leave, but not knowing how to without causing further insult and injury to a good man. I don't envy them that time in their lives. And yet, that is where they were when I first met them both.

Doug had arranged for all of the men and their wives to come to a little bar in Lacey, Washington. He foot the bill for the entire night, and it was perfect! Chris and I got a sitter.. and EVERYONE was there. I still clearly remember walking in. I looked to the right, and saw a large group sitting at a table. Chris and I walked over,and I took my seat next to a petite redhead. She had her hair pulled back and tucked into a baseball cap. She had a slender, pretty face and freckles on her nose. Next to her.. sat a man I recognized only from photographs. I sat down next to Katie, and she and I introduced ourselves. My husband then introduced me to her husband. Despite his wife sitting next to him, and my husband next to me, I had the most intense butterflies in my stomach I have experienced since a young girl. We held eye contact for a moment and I turned away as my face began to flush. I had no idea why I would feel that way.. but I knew it wasn't the right thing for me to be feeling. I sat next to Katie for a bit longer, and she and I talked about children and deployments. I learned that they had two little girls just older, and just younger than my oldest. We agreed that we should get them together sometime. After the formalities.. the conversation faded. She and I.. I realized, didn't have anything to talk about. She was focused on school and finding the right career. I was focused on my family. I had always been home with my girls, she had always had hers in daycare while she was pursuing this certificate or that. Everything that I loved about my life, was what she hated about hers. Although pleasant, I excused myself from the table knowing that I would not be pursuing a friendship with her. There was simply nothing there.

I walked up to the bar and ordered another drink while making small talk with a couple of the single soldiers from the Platoon. A few moments later, Doug walked up. I remember so vividly the way he looked. I leaned back on the bar as he and I made small talk waiting for our drinks. He stood in front of me.. slightly closer than he should have. I.. of course.. was wearing a beanie, and he reached up and grabbed it. I remember being taken back a bit when he put it on, and continued talking to me. I glanced over his right shoulder to a dark corner of the bar and smiled at the irony when I found my husband and his wife tucked back there.. also standing too close, and engaged in what appeared to be a very interesting conversation. For whatever reason, I didn't experience the slightest twinge of jealousy as I turned my attention back to Doug. We got our drinks and talked for a few more minutes before he.. the ever ADD attention whore.. excused himself to climb up on a pool table and make an announcement. I don't remember exactly what was said... but its effect was electric as the entire platoon rushed him when he got down and drug him into the men's restroom to introduce his head to the toilet. Yes ladies and gents.. THIS is America's Finest! As I watched the commotion with wide eyes.. my only thought was for my favorite beanie. "It BETTER not get ruined in that nasty toilet!" I recall thinking. If I had known him then like I do now I wouldn't have worried. After a few seconds of shouting and a general ruckus.. out of the bathroom flies Doug straight through the bar and out the front doors into the parking lot. About 4 seconds later 30 men came running after him.

And that.. was my first experience with Doug Hague.

I didn't see, or hear from him again. We moved to Hawaii.. I gave birth to the twins, and Doug Hague was nothing more than a memory of a deployment from years ago. And of course.. was still referred to as "My Boyfriend" should his name ever come up in the recounting of war stories.

I had been introduced to myspace a few months earlier when my little brother insisted that I join. After mocking it for awhile.. I succumbed in what was quite possibly the best decision I ever made. Apparently, EVERYONE was on there! It didn't take long before all of the guys from that first platoon were connected in a tight little circle. I had always played Den Mother of sorts to those men, and was happy to have us all talking regularly. Doug was on there too.. and as I wandered around his page I noted that his status said "single". I thought it rather odd, and sent him an email introducing myself again and wondering if he had simply forgotten to change it from the default. His response came quick. He was about to deploy to Iraq again. Of course he remembered me! And no.. it wasn't a mistake. He had asked his wife to leave and she had recently moved back to Georgia. We continued our small talk. And email here and an email there. Catching up on old friends, and new gossip. One day, I sent him an email telling him that I knew it could get lonely in Iraq and that if he ever needed anyone to talk to, he was more than welcome to call me. I assured him that Chris would not mind as I talked to all of the guys from that Platoon on a regular basis. A few weeks later.. just as I was packing up my life to move back to Portland, my phone rang. I almost didn't answer. The twins had finally gone down for a nap, the house was quiet and I was enjoying a moment alone with my thoughts. But.. for some reason, I picked up. "Kate?" said the unfamiliar voice on the other end. "Yes?" I answered uncertainly. "This is Doug." came the reply. My stomach fluttered just like it had that night in Lacey. "Well hello Lt Hague!" I said smiling. "Actually.. its Captain now. They hand rank out like candy these days." was his insincerely humble response. And it just worked. We talked as if we'd always known each other.. and when it was time to get off the phone, I felt refreshed. Like something good, and clean had just washed over me.

And so as I sat on my couch that night.. watching the fire and thinking of the mess that I was in, I smiled to find a new email from someone who was becoming a good friend. We.. after all had our tendency to drown our sorrows in common, and so he didn't judge. I opened it to find an invitation to get on Yahoo Messenger with him. Thus far, our conversations had been confined to emails (although that had started coming nearly every day) and just that one phone call. I thought.. that at one in the morning .. there was positively nothing I would rather do. And so.. I signed in. I waited.. and in just a little bit, was pleasantly surprised to find a "hey beautiful" pop up on my screen. And so it began in earnest. We flirted, and we talked. And after just a little bit.. decided that the computer wasn't nearly as much fun as hearing each other's voices.. and so he called. This became a nightly routine. I would put my girls to bed. I would open a bottle, and sign into messenger, and around one every morning.. just as he would get off shift, he would sign in. We would pretend that it was just going to be a quick conversation but soon he would call, and before either of us knew it, the sun was starting to come up and I would have to let him go so that I could wake Tessa up for school.

Those weeks were like a blur. I just knew that if I could get through the day.. I would have a quiet night to look forward to. Another night in front of my fire with the most pleasant company I had ever enjoyed. And as time passed.. I didn't even realize that I had traded in the bottle for a cup of tea or coffee. As time passed, I realized that things were different than I had imagined. The struggle that I was fighting within myself about my decision to end my marriage became less of a struggle. Doug was a dear friend, and the first example of a good man I had ever known. He was honest. He was kind. He was real, and unspoiled. We were both broken, and I knew this. Neither of us were ready to commit to one another, neither of us were over the loss of our marriage. But I found in Doug a hope that I had been unable to find before. I realized, through him, that there were good men. Not men who were good to your face because it was what you wanted to see. But men who were good when no one was looking. I didn't think that Doug and I would ever get this far. I just knew that I had found something that was real. I knew that this type of man existed. And that even though Doug and I would probably never make anything of our growing bond, there were men out there who were good. And that gave me hope for a future. Not just for me, but for my precious girls.

And so, one night in early December I told my husband that I was filing for divorce. And I knew that it was right.

Snow... Wine... And Guilt

So, let me preface this by saying that I am absolutely guilty of all that I am about to snark at others for doing.



I was looking through all the photos on my phone (a new BlackBerry Torch.. because Holy Mother, if there is anything in life that I am certain of it is that I hate all things Apple and was secretly a little bit happy when my boy-son-mcperfect dropped my iPhone in the toilet) deciding which little tidbits of kid related (because let's face it, I haven't posted pics of just me in forever.. you know.. the ones where you know you look fabfreakin'tastic and you just have to catch a quick shot of yourself and share it with your 200+ closest friends) delicious-ness everyone would love to see. And I realized that really? No one thinks our kids are nearly as cute as we think they are. Now, I know that there are those few crazies out there (Julie Pounds) that really do LOVE other people's kids and enjoy hearing about all their cute little antics. And of course.. grandparents are required to adore. But other than those two groups (Grandparents and JCP) most of us don't think your kids are that great. Yes... we appreciate that you are a good parent. (Because it makes your children bearable when we get together) And yes... we think it's good that they aren't drooling, malnourished, or moronic. We appreciate cute clothes (so that we aren't embarrassed to be seen in public with you all), and a good sense of humor. But egads... really, as long as your kid isn't socially retarded .. you get a pass. And that's all I need to know about your darling little one.



(I know... with absolute certainty that the feathers have begun to ruffle and there are a few who think me a total ass.. But please remember what I said at the very beginning. I am guilty of presuming that everyone cares just like the rest of you... so please... please save the rotten vegetable pelting for the outgoing Democratic Congress and let me write in peace. I promise... promise promise promise... that I'm making fun of us all. If you don't believe me, look through my photos and status updates. Yeah.. I'm one of THOSE people)



It has become clear to me, that the addition of snow takes the normal desire to show everyone how holy-effin-cute your kids are to a whole new level of Mommy Dearest. I was scrolling down my updates a little bit ago in between sips (okay in the spirit of honestly, gulps)... of Cab while cramming hummus dripping pita chips in my make-up-less face.. and had to chuckle at the fact that everyone's recent update looks the same. Most frequently used words: Hot Cocoa, Love, Cute, Snow, Love, Hot Cocoa, Cute, Snow *insert random kid's name*. I kept searching in the hopes that I would find a kindred spirit (winks Ann *withan"e" and Dianna) who posted. "Doing the exact same thing as all the rest of you. Who else is dreading hot cocoa clean up, floor mopping, and laundry?" Alas.. there were none to be found. Which is what sent me searching through my own phone in the hopes that I could add a little dab of Haguioni Snow Awesomeness to the facebook mix. Turns out, I'm a bad mother and have no photos on my phone of all the cute snow-play that has taken place over the last 24 hours. In my defense... I DID cook a turkey, ham, and all the trimmings as well as a divine German Chocolate Upside Down Cake (tips hat to Holly Clardy) yesterday and played loverly host to the inlaws and friends. I even did it remotely sober, which I think relieves me of any obligation to take cute pictures. Doug is a bad father.. it's a simple as that. Baddoug.



Maybe that's it.. perhaps I'm just snarking at all of you who have a million photos of Cutest McCuterthananyoneelse's outside on the first white Christmas in Jawja since Scaahhlett was still getting crammed into corsets by Mammie. Maybe I'm drowing my guilt at having totally missed this Christmas snow because I was busy stressing that the table wasn't set properly. Perhaps I'm snarking at all of you and your little bundled up brats cheesing it up for the camera (like everyone else's) because even after over ten years of parenting, and seven children... I have a hard time letting go of "things" and just living in the moment. Gah! That's it. Damn you dry red wine and fingers that type faster than my brain can edit and protect me. Sigh... I don't have any cute photos from yesterday.



Now I'm going to have to go and have the kids put on different coats and changes of clothes to get photos for their dumb kids to look at, in the hopes that they won't remember that all those photos of them as littles were really taken over a period of twenty minutes with a mom nagging at them not to track anything in the house between clothes changes. Or... I can just chalk it up to "Look.. you eat three square meals a day, Santa always comes, you have clean clothes and play sports through the Rec.. leave me alone about the 'no pictures from our childhood' thing." Ya think it'll guilt them into forgiving me?



I did participate in two snowball fights yesterday. I have hung their coats by the fire, and served up hot cocoa each time they've come in.



Awww eff... I'm off to take some pictures.



I still don't care how cute your kid is.



Your's in resignition,



Kate