Unending Anticipatory Grief

Okay. I spend enough time on Spousebuzz to realize that anticipatory grief is a pretty normal thing in the milspouse world.

My problem is that I can't turn it off, and there is no end in sight. Any day that Einstein flies is one where I fear for his safety. This isn't a problem with rational thought; trust me when I say that I know flying is safe, that Einstein is a good pilot (for a student, anyway!), that really pilot is a pretty safe job when all things are considered, and that in a training environment everyone is on their toes, etc etc etc. I get it.

I think about his death every single day. Several times each day. On the way to work. When I get to work. On my lunch break (what if they were looking for me while I was at McDonald's???). When I get home. While I wait for him to come home. I rehearse the knock, how it would happen if I was at work. It is to the point where I pick up the house before I leave in case he dies while I'm at work and I have people all over our house that night. I think about my clothes, and whether that is what I want to be wearing when they tell me my husband is dead.

The past few nights Einstein has gotten home later than anticipated for various reasons. I go into panic mode immediately, calling other wives to see if any of his flight mates are home. I'm not a wreck...it is just always there.

And I can't live like this for the rest of my life. If he were deployed, I could rationalize it. I would expect this level of obsession. But he is going to be flying nearly every day for the next ten years (hopefully! he's a grouch when he doesn't fly!) and I can't sustain this that long. I really can't. And I can't turn it off.

Seriously, how do other people cope?

Maybe you can help me...

"Maybe you can help me" is seriously my least favorite phrase to hear from a patron.

Dude, I get paid to help you. It is the main component of my job. I went to freaking grad school so that I could help you.

I'm pretty sure I can help you.

Also, what do you say to that? I mean, what do you say that is friendly and customer service oriented? "Yes, I can help you" with a perky smile is my usual reply, but even I get sick of that after awhile.

Oh, Family Gatherings

Sometimes I feel bad for relatives of military people. I can slot pretty much all of our extended family (and the extended family of our military friends) into four categories:

1) Military relatives. Obviously they "get it." While you may not like their Jalepeño Apple Pie, you don't have to worry about dumb questions from them (usually).

2) Endless Questioners. "So do you really move that much? Can't you just tell them you don't want to deploy? What types of planes are those again? How long is your commitment? Do you think...." The worst form of this is the relatives who don't understand "I can't tell you what I know about that" or "I can't talk about that." I am always embarrassed for them (after all, I know how it feels to be told that Einstein can't tell me something) but I am also constantly shocked at how people try to get around it by continuing to ask questions about a topic he has told them is off limits!!! What is that about??

3) The Know-it-Alls. This type of relative (I have a LOT of this type) are the ones who never served a day in the military in their lives, but know all about the military. They seem to honestly believe that they know it all and are constantly trying to impress Einstein (and whatever other poor souls are sitting on the deck with him) with their encyclopedic "knowledge." Some of these types are fairly harmless, and can even be amusing (the uncle who always tries to finish Einstein's sentences and is crestfallen when he is wrong). Some of them (my uncle) are annoying, patronizing and dead wrong about pretty much everything. ("You'll see how it is after you've been in awhile" Um, excuse me? You were never IN the military!) Also, this type tends to think they know more than me (the little wifey). Naturally, this makes them my least favorite.

4) The Oblivious. These range from those who have no understanding/experience with the military, and who have so little concept of what the lifestyle is like that they do not even realize the differences from their own lives. Some of these are the apathetic relatives, who also tend to be narcissistic. My least favorite is this type are those who actively dismiss you after they hear about the military affiliation. That drives me crazy!

My revelation for the weekend is this: it is hard for the "civilian" relatives to break free from these categories, because if you don't ask a million questions or act like you know it all, I am liable to think you are Oblivious. So what is my perfect relative like?

They are as interested in asking questions about Einstein's life as they are in asking questions about his cousin's med school antics. They never assume they know more than he does. And they don't dwell on it overlong (for instance, trapping Einstein in a corner the entire night of a family barbecue and grilling him about military life) before moving on to other topics.

A quote from ALA past

To make up for my own dissaointment over missing ALA (the American Library Associations monster yearly conference) this year, I am going to post my favorite quote from ALA's past.

In 1937, Frances Clarke Sayers gave an impassioned address entitled The Nightingale, which focused on how children's librarians needed to combat the tendency to give children books that were dumbed down, that focused on the mundane and easy to understand. Every day I struggle against this same issue. Collection development (which books to buy), reference interviews (which books to recommend), reader's advisory, etc, they all lead me back to this one issue. So I try to keep this quote in mind throughout my day.

She said:

“Of what are we afraid? Of words, of emotion, of experience? We are very tender, it seems to me, of the young,
and tenderness is no preparation for a world half mad and savage. "

So, can we talk about something besides flying now?

After spending the ENTIRE weekend as the only civilian with a bunch of military pilots-in-training, I can safely say that I really would rather not talk about anything flying related for, oh, hmmm, well, you know, at LEAST a month.

The chances of this are slim to none.

Don't get me wrong. Einstein has wanted to be a pilot as long as I've known him (really, since he was five and went on his first helicopter flight). And he loves flying so much. And I love him so much. He spent years thinking his dream of flying in the military was impossible, and then it was a long process of maybes, and "if this works out" and now he is finally doing what he has always wanted to do and I don't begrudge him a second of it.

I'm only saying that it might be nice to talk about other topics, from time to time. We don't even have to talk about books or libraries or anything like that. We could talk about how Spain defeated Germany today in the EuroCup (hooray!). We could talk about cooking. Or the rising price of gas...but that would lead to talk of jet fuel...

I know lots of families that don't discuss religion or politics at the dinner table. I'm thinking maybe no flying at the dinner table? Just for a few days?

Stop! No hitting in the library!

Today I had to stop a six year old boy from mauling his sister. I was walking over to the information desk from the back of the stacks (that's shelves, in librarianese) and made the turn just in time to see the young man tackle his slightly older sister to the ground (hard enough that he caused my computer monitor to spin like a top!) and begin to beat the living tar out of her.

And yes, I can say living tar. I live in the South. Deal with it.

So I rushed over and started with the "Stop! We don't hit people in the library!" spiel. I would have added that we don't hit people at all, but I got taken to task once for telling a patron's child that "We don't hit other people EVER" , so now I limit myself to saying "in the library."

I seriously though I was going to have to pry the kid off of his sister. It was out of control. He finally stopped and ran off to destroy one of my display racks. His parents? Nowhere in sight. Sigh.

Also, a conversation between Einstein and I at dinner:

E: And then so and so said "Well, it sure sounds like *insert mysogynistic/anti-woman comment here*"
Me: REALLY? I totally can't believe he said that, he doesn't seem the type.
E: Well, I think he's just like me...it doesn't matter if you believe it, it is just easier to say it once and awhile, you know, to fit in...
Me: OH REALLY? So what kind of things do you say?
E: uhhhhhhhhh. Nothing. I don't say anything at work. Ever.

Conversation with a coworker

"Wait, your husband is an officer?"

"Yeah."

"Wow. So, why are you working here?"

What I said "Well, *random lame ramblings about my love of libraries and massive student debt*"

What I was thinking, "I really have no idea."

Disclaimer: I love my job. But this was at the end of a looooooooong day.

Yes, we go to bed that early

Most of my non-military affiliated friends live the life of the young and upwardly mobile or the young and well-trust-funded (tough, I feel for them). This leads to a fair amount of dissonance between our lives and world views. It always has; after all, I could never afford to hire a maid or send my laundry out. (Yes I had friends in college who did those things.)

But the sticking point lately is less about political debates about the necessity of the military or inability to cope with the idea of frequent and seemingly pointless moves around the country.

The sticking point is our bed time. My friends cannot handle the fact that any call to us after 9 PM will not be answered.

Now, I grew up in a house where if you were calling after 9 PM you had better be 1) dead 2) dying or 3) calling about someone else in one of the previous two conditions. This was non-negotiable. My parents are hardcore about very few things, but the 9 PM phone cut off was sacrosanct. I never thought much about it (other than a brief interlude in college where the jealous ex of my roomate's new boyfriend called EVERY NIGHT at 3 AM) and I certainly didn't follow it. But with Einstein's flying schedule and my own work schedule, it makes sense to go to bed at around 9:30. And I need a half and hour of quiet time before I can fall asleep. So if the call comes in after 9, I don't even see it (oh the wonder of cell phones!) until the next morning. Obnoxious? Perhaps. Ornery? Maybe. Ridiculous? No.

Frankly, if you want to talk to me that badly, call me before 9 PM.

I like Summer Reading

For those of you who don't have a double major in library-ese to go with your major in military-ese, Summer Reading=Summer Reading Program (commonly abbreviated SRP)=a reading program for library patrons (usually kids) that involves some equation of time spent reading/number of books read with prizes.

And guess what, I like it! I like having kids in the library! I like that they are reading (even if the little darlings are probably fudging the number of hours they are reading for). I like all of the kitschy programming. I like doing storytime for 200+ kids. This has made me odd person out at work.

There is actually a countdown on a bulletin board in the staff break room- the number of days until the end of summer reading. Since we are only about a week in, I think it is more depressing than motivating, but hey, at least it gives my coworkers something to complain about!

I'm really having a hard time dealing with the bad attitude about it, though...I mean, seriously, it is a PUBLIC LIBRARY. The more people who know we exist means the more people who might vote yes the next time we have some sort of levy.

Although to be fair, most of their angst seems to stem from the fact that the SRP snuck up on them! How dastardly, a whole season sneaking up on you!

Oh, little garden!

Einstein and I live in an apartment. Since we don't have a yard for gardening, I have turned to container gardening. This year's crops include (drumroll, please!):

Tomatoes
Beans
Lettuce
Basil (yum!)
Chives
Lemon Thyme
Mint

So far they seem to be thriving, although I worry a little bit that they will not survive the summer. I grew up in the North, and summer below the Mason-Dixon line seems a little, well, harsh. Like, soul sucking heat that is out to kill all living things, me and my baby plants included. Technically, half of them aren't babies, they are perennials from last year, but still.

There are few things that make me happier than coming home and picking things right off the vine for dinner! If you've never tried gardening of any sort and are interested in starting a few pots of tomatoes (or being even more ambitious!) check out The Edible Container Garden by Michael Guerra. It has great photos and excellent blow by blow instructions for all types of plants and containers. It is excellent for all levels of gardener, from the complete neophyte to the experienced gardener who is new to containers, or just looking to branch out from tomatoes!

Also, I love the farmers market. I went to the commissary today and didn't have to buy ANY produce. (Our commissary has the nastiest produce ever). Hooray!

Note to random parent

Dear Madam,

Thank you for bringing your son into the library. We are so happy to have him in the children's section, and I sincerely hope that your visits to our fine library inspire him to a lifelong love of books.

I'd also like to point out that leaving your child unsupervised in a public place is technically child abandonment and you are so freaking lucky that I didn't call the cops. Since you apparently think that your son is young enough to wander around with a pacifier in his mouth (even though he can walk and talk, although he is hard to understand around the binky!) I am at a loss as to why you think it is okay to leave him all alone in a 40,000 square foot building while you are on the other side of it, completely immersed in your internet surfing.

Just because I am sitting at the desk in the children's area does not mean I am watching your son. Luckily for you, I am a fairly patient person who loves children, and didn't mind him following me around or providing him with some books to look through or things to color with.

BUT. I could have been a child molester. Your son has no sense of stranger danger or where to go or not to go, since he is three. Leaving him unsupervised for over an hour is not only unwise, it is also criminal. Also, looking at me contemptuously when I walked over to you (since you hollered for him from the circulation desk, instead of coming to the children's area to fetch him) and reminded you politely that according to library policy all children under seven must be with an adult at all times did not help your case with me. What really sealed the deal was the "little bitch" comment you made under your breath when I told you that if it happened again, I would call the police.

So I've changed my mind. If you do it again, I will go ninja librarian on your ass.

Sincerely,
Nomad Librarian

I don't have words of my own, for this

Dirge without music by Edna St. Vincent Millay

I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.
Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains, --- but the best is lost.

The answers quick & keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love,
They are gone. They have gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled
Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.
More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.

Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.


We'll miss you, dear friend.

Overheard at work today

"Jimmy, let's go! You've got enough books already!"

"But look, Mom, books on sharks!!!"

"Jimmy, we still have to go to the grocery store. Let's go!"

"Why do we need groceries??? We should get more books instead!"


While books over groceries is not exactly practical, I couldn't help but smile at the little boy's enthusiasm for books and the library. The whole thing made me smile, and in my head I was agreeing with him!

Happy National Library Week!!

Go visit your library!

Libraries are so much more than just storehouses for books! This last weekend I had a frustrating discussion with a new acquaintance that started like this "So you're a librarian, huh? Isn't that kind of a dying profession? I mean, there's the internet..."

Libraries are essential to the American way of life. Not only because they are collect information and make it available to the public, but because one of the primary missions of any library is to equip its patrons with the ability to discern which information sources are reliable, which contributes to the informed citizenry necessary for truly democratic government. Another vital aspect of democracy is a literate citizenry, and I think most people would be hard pressed to find a group of people more dedicated to literacy than librarians. Whether it is adult literacy classes and book sections or children's storytimes and summer reading programs, literacy is obviously a priority of libraries. So no, I don't think libraries are dying. I think that my profession is one of the most necessary of this century.

Plus, you know, libraries have DVD's and free computers, too.

An email from my MIL

My mother-in-law is amazing. Every time I hear stories about other people's awful in-law experiences, I become even more thankful for my fantastic in-laws, who I love as much as my own parents. Einstein and I are lucky as hell for a lot of reasons, but having two fantastic sets of parents is where we really hit the lottery.

Gushing aside, though, for the first three or so years that Einstein and I were dating, I thought his mother was a little bit of a flake. She tends to come off a little absent minded (okay, more than a little!) and I was like, "OMG! Does this woman not see the way her family pushes her around?!? And she never even says anything to them!" Keep in mind that my family was definitely run on the lines of "if momma ain't happy ain't nobody happy", so a woman who seemed to let her family push her around was way out of my comfort zone.

And then, one day I suddenly realized that all of her ditzy comments? Complete and utter sarcasm! The woman had been making fun of everything, including herself, since I'd met her. So this week she finished off an email filled with family news with this little gem:

"I put some vases of sik flowers on the deck to have the wind blow the dust off on Saturday. Now they are just under a foot of snow. At least they are not dusty."

She slays me. Seriously.

You're gonna miss this...

I listen to country music.

Mostly because I switch back and forth between VH1 and CMT at the gym in the morning so I never have to watch a commercial, but that is a little beside the point.

The point is that there is a song by Trace Adkins that talks about how you can spend your whole life wishing away your present, thinking about the future. The chorus, for those who don't listen to country, goes:

"You're gonna miss this. You're gonna want this back. You're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by so fast. These are some good times, so take a good look around...you may not know it now, but you're gonna miss this."

The song has gotten me thinking a lot lately about how much time I spend thinking about the future, wishing that things were "different"...and listening to others I think it is especially common among milspouses to wish away the present selectively. For instance, no one sincerely believes that deployments and remote tours should be enjoyed and savored. And yet, at the same time, there are always things happening that we are going to miss. When I think about the years that Einstein and I spent apart, I remember how much it sucked. Believe me, I do. But I also remember awesome friends, learning to live on my own, being independent and impulsive and having sushi for dinner (Einstein hates it).

Which brings me to now. If I had a dollar for every time that some well meaning (military pilot spouse) soul has said "Pilot training is awful! My husband never even had time to hug me!" or "I don't know why you are even moving there with him, you'll never see him!" or "Just get through it, thirteen months and then its over!" I could buy myself a really nice dinner. With as much sushi as I could eat.

It's not fun. I mean, I look at friends who's significant others come home from work at the same time they do and they cuddle and cook together and go for walks, blahblahblah, and it makes me sad, because Einstein comes home, refuses to hug me (more on that story later!), studies and goes to bed. But seriously. Some of the women I spend time with every day think it is going to get better after pilot training. Reality check! It's not. First squadrons, deployments, TDY's, etc etc etc. Which while depressing, begs the question: why aren't we all looking for the things that we enjoy about where we are right now? I'm not talking about being Polly Perky, I'm talking about having good days and bad days and trying to look at the glass half full, not half empty.

So, since Einstein won't be home tonight...SUSHI!!!

Reading books makes me happy

I love books. I love reading books.

I work all day in a place filled with books. Which means I accumulate them faster than I can read them. My all time high was when I once had 92 books checked out. I never did read them all, I ended up doing a sort of book triage and only reading the ones I really really wanted to. Which was roughly 50 of them.

It hasn't been that bad lately, but it has started to get close. I was down to five (5!!!) books. Okay, really, eight, but two were borrowed from friends and one was purchased, so I really only had five checked out from work. And one of them was a gardening book, which barely even counts! Right.

And then today I went crazy. Book after book after book went into my pile of must-reads. Luckily sanity returned before quitting time and I ended up leaving one at work to read during lunch and brining the other one home.

So now I'm trying to be good and read my "old" books (since they are due in two days!) instead of the shiny new fun one. I'm not sure I have enough willpower left, honestly.

Sometimes I forget

I was talking with a good friend from undergrad today. After we had gotten caught up on her news (she is recently engaged, yay!) and were just chatting, it came up in conversation that Einstein has what is basically a 12 year commitment to the AF (roughly 2 years pre pilot training + 10 years after). I've known this was how it was going to be for a long time-at least the last 2 years, but apparently my friend either a) never knew or b) forgot this little tidbit.

She was shocked. Once she finished choking on her water she said "Are you going to be in (insert city name) for 12 years, then?"

It was my turn to be shocked.

Uhm, no. We will not be here for 12 years (please, God). Another year or so, then 9 months in another locale, and then on to Einstein's "first" "permanent" station. For four years or so. When I told her that in the next twelve years I am planning on moving at least 4-5 times (at least!!!), there was silence. When I reeled off place names of a couple of the bases we would love to be stationed at, she got even quieter.

It was so strange to have someone who I consider a great friend be so ignorant about the basics of the military lifestyle I live and breathe every day. She was shocked that we hoped to move abroad, shocked that I am fine with moving("Can't you just stay if you like it someplace?"), shocked about everything.

And I was shocked to realize that to her way of thinking, the military is just a job. I wonder how many people think like that?

I found a new snack!

I have an addiction to potato chips. It's a little sad, actually. Show me a bag and I have no self control. I'm not an advocate of completely cutting a food out, but I have HAD to do that with chips. Even if I have a little snack bag, the next time I see them I can't resist.

And while I like potato chips in general, I really like chips and dip. Especially French Onion dip. I used to eat an entire bag of chips with one (or two) containers of dip for a meal. Or for all my meals for a day. It was disgusting, and I am glad that I don't do it anymore. Although I have to admit I did have some while Einstein was TDY this last fall, but I ate fruits and veggies too! :-)

At any rate, I found a great new snack that gives me the crunch and the yum of my favorite snack without the calories and greasiness! Whole wheat Ritz crackers with Laughing Cow Light French Onion cheese!! Oh my gosh, I had some this morning and it made my day!!

What is it with spring time?!?

To my Minnesota raised mind, it is very strange indeed to think that March is actually a spring month. But it is! What I really mean by spring, however, is Spring Semester- or at least that time frame, January to May.

For a long, long time (high school for sure, possibly earlier) I have overbooked myself in the spring. Doesn't matter that I have supposedly "learned my lesson" and that I know better- I always end up running around frantically like a chicken with my head cut off, with no time to do anything that needs to get done.

This year is no different. I feel as if I am constantly running from one thing to the next, with a massive list of things left undone trailing behind me like a banner that says "Over-committed! Bad time manager!" I also feel bad because pilot training is completely sucking up Einstein's free time, which means that no one is doing the dishes, laundry or cleaning. And while I don't like living in squalor, I can cope with it. But Einstein has a little Air Force supplied chip in his brain that sees a pile of (clean!) laundry or a floor in need of vacuuming and completely melts down. He can't study in our house. So I struggle to keep things tidy and mostly clean (and he helps a lot, don't get me wrong!) but during the week-especially by Thursday, the house looks like rampaging monsters have hit it.

I think what is really making this spring overbooking harder to deal with than usual is the fact that I don't see an end in sight- at least not until after next spring. But you know what? It will be okay! I will persevere!