Deployed. The First Days and Prayer Runs

Well, Dadalogue is now deployed. A couple days down and many more to go.

Impressions so far?

This isn’t my grandfather’s war. Goodness, for one thing, I’m blogging on the Internet several hundred miles away from developed civilization. Not only that, but there’s coffee shops (yes, plural), a barber shop nicer than the one I go to in California, and post exchanges that have variety that rivals Wal-Mart. Well, that last one is an exaggeration, but still you must answer the question, “What flavor Pringles to you want?”

The two chow halls I’ve been to have variety, and most of it is pretty good so far. It’s not home cookin’, but it’ll do. Get this: Yesterday I made my own Panini for lunch. Crazy. A hot pressed roast beef and provolone cheese sandwich in a combat zone. The novelty supposedly wears off soon though. I am told that in a couple weeks I’ll be able to know what day it is based solely on the chow hall menu. Tuesdays, for example, are Bang Bang shrimp nights. Thursdays are Oriental nights. Every. Single. Week.

My initial reaction to this cushy lifestyle is guilt. Two reasons. First, there are servicemembers in this country eating tray rations and MREs (Meals-Ready-to-Eat) every day. They’re lucky to get one decent hot meal or shower once every few months. I’ve had three squares a day and hot showers since I’ve been here. Second, I almost feel as if I’m pulling a fast one on the American public. I think there’s this impression that the conditions here are worse than they really are for most of us. The excessiveness of stuff on this base is a bit embarrassing. Except for those who are beyond the confines of bases like the one I’m at, we have it – dare I say – too well.

On the other hand, maybe there’s a reason for it. It sure is nice to know that there are familiar comforts of home within walking distance. Taxpayer money doesn’t pay for it all which helps ease the guilty mind. And those who have the opportunity to come in briefly from the combat outposts deserve all of this and more.

The wife and kids seem to be doing well. I’ve been able to video chat with them a few times. Grace loves seeing me on Skype, shouting “Daddy!” almost the whole time we chat. I was able to watch as she said “draw kitty” and proceeded to go to her art easel to scribble a “kitty cat” on the butcher paper. I saw Timothy in his highchair, food all over his face, smiling from ear to ear and waving his arms when he saw me. It warms the heart to see those magnificent children God has blessed me and the Wife with.

Speaking for God, final thought – and it involves you:

As I was running today I was praying. That got me to thinking about all the people who are praying for me. The power of prayer is amazing (I’ve seen its effects firsthand too many times to count) and I know there are whole churches that have me on their prayer list (thanks to Grandma, Mom Mom, and our church families back in California and where we lived in Virginia for a while). Well, I want to pray for you too. Send me your requests through e-mail (dadalogue@gmail.com), and every morning I will go on what I’ll call a Prayer Run. I won’t stop running until I’ve brought all the requests before God. Pass the word. If I have to run a marathon every day, I will.

Yes, there’s all this cool stuff: creature comforts, good food, hot showers, but I can’t think of a better way to stay positive and close to home than praying for the people I love.

Finally with the family (for a bit)

Well, it's been a little bit since I've updated everyone on my goings-on. To summarize: it's been hectic.

Between virtual tea party Skype sessions and work, I packed up the rest of our house and had it hauled away to storage (thanks Pods!). Some wonderful friends helped with the big stuff, but packing all the little things - and there were plenty - plus a good cleaning of the house was left up to me. I turned the keys back over two Saturdays ago.

Leaving was a bit tough. We really were blessed with finding such a great place: a four-bedroom ranch 20 minutes from work in our budget. This was our first non-apartment dwelling as a married couple, something both of us really couldn't wait for. We brought Timothy home from the hospital to this house. Grace learned how to walk on the slippery faux hardwood floors. We had tons of memorable family visits in the short year and a half we were there. Thanksgiving was a blast, even though the turkey tried to murder me. I'm going to miss not being there.

I'm now visiting with my family prior to the deployment and trying to get the most out of every moment.

Ice cream for Grace (courtesy of GiGi)!

Funny thing about not seeing your kids for a month. The changes that normally seem so gradual over time smack you in the face. A month ago, Grace was communicating, but it was more with babble and hand gestures. Now, she's speaking more clearly, and in some cases, in complete sentences. She follows directions well and has a better grasp of her numbers, letters, and colors. I didn't really get to see this evolution, so it blew me away how grown up she seemed. Timothy wasn't sitting up. Now he is. He's waving, and starting to babble. He's rolling over like a champ. Crawling is in the near future. He seems more like a toddler to me than the baby I said goodbye to at the beginning of the year.

If that's one month, after twelve, I'll be coming home to completely different human beings!

All bundled up for a winter walk.

It's really been a lot of fun getting to do nothing but to hang out with my wife and kids. Grace has been pretty much glued to my side since I've been here, and I'm not complaining. We've read about 500 books. I've been served 800 cups of imaginary tea. And she's been bounced, twirled, flipped, and tossed a thousand times. Both kids have gotten a million kisses. I've savored every moment (even the ones in the middle of the night) that Timothy has slept in my arms. I realize these may be the last days of that for me. He'll be a full-fledged toddler before my return, and in my experience, toddlers do not sleep in their parents arms often.

However, I can honestly say I haven't dwelled on the negatives or the impending reality. I've been able to live in the moment which, I think, makes those moments all that much better. Too often I've forced a moment to be something more than it is just because it's the last time or only time I'll get to experience it. I then get so focused on perfection or preservation that the real specialness is lost.

Because of my new approach, I'll look back at these few days and remember Grace's addicting laugh, Noah's precious face when he sleeps, and the way my wife smiles when she watches the scene of me playing on the floor with both kids.


Taking a few pictures along the way helps too.

Grandpa trying to cheer up a tired Timothy.

My parents, sister and one of her daughters came to visit us this past weekend to say goodbye. So did my wife's brother and his fiance. As always, time with them seems to pass too quickly, but it was enjoyable to have both sides of the family gathered under one roof. I think the last time all of us were together like this was at our wedding in 2008.

While they were here, we celebrated Grace's second birthday, even though she won't be two until Valentine's Day. But, the benefit of her being two is she won't know the difference.

Celebrating Grace's 2nd birthday a bit early.

As my time here winds down, I plan on spending it how I've been spending it: with those I love as close to me as possible. Nothing too fancy, nothing too planned, just full of as laughter, life, and love.

What I miss as a dad separated from his family

Do you know what the best thing about being away from your family is?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

At first, the idea of some peace and quiet was nice. A stay-cation of sorts. I could be on my own schedule, and watch what I wanted on TV. No more Yo Gabba Gabba for this dad. I could eat peanut butter straight out of the jar. I didn't have to wake up in the middle of the night for anything. I could let the dishes sit in the sink. There was no one to tell me what to do. This was all pretty cool.

For like an hour.

After that, I started craving things like a little girl running into the room with her blanket to climb up and snuggle on the couch with me. I crave giggles, smiles, laughs, coos, and yes, even crying. I crave my old routine. I crave reading the same book three times in a row before bed. I crave Goodnight Moon and goodnight kisses. I crave hugs. I crave little babies sleeping in my arms. I crave changing diapers. Well, lets be honest, maybe not that. I could do without changing diapers. But I crave those little ones that make such big messes. I crave hearing battery-operated children's toys that sing the ABC's and count to ten in Spanish. I crave talking to my wife face to face. I crave holding her hand. I crave seeing her when I walk in the door coming home from work. I crave having her close at night. I crave her poking me awake to go rock our son back to sleep. I crave giving her sleepy head a goodbye kiss in the morning. I crave leftovers for lunch.

I crave what I'm missing.

On my way to work I got a call from The Wife and Grace. Our almost two-year-old was excited to tell me that she "went pee pee in the potty." This was a first. I, of course, want to be there for that. Or at least hear about it in person. But, that's obviously not possible. I can't stop time. I can't tell Grace to stay little until I get back. I can't tell Timothy to not crawl and walk until I can cheer him on. I have to encourage them and cheer them on over the phone or through the computer.

Those video chats we do regularly keep me smiling. My daughter is learning quickly how to interact with me over the computer. We laugh and giggle and act silly just like if we were together. She couldn't wait to show me how she does the Hokey Pokey. Timothy is learning how to wave and clap. It's all fun to watch, and those chats are the highlight of my day.

But of course, there are dinners to make, baths to be had, and bedtime for little ones. The call has to end at some point. And when it does, our now empty house is once again quiet. And I go back to eating peanut butter straight from the jar.

The power of technology

I've often wondered how families separated kept in touch before the days of high-speed Internet connections. I mean, I know they had letters and phone calls, but video calls are amazing. They shorten the distance between people.

This morning, at 6, I enjoyed a cup of coffee my daughter "poured" for me. She was asking my wife for me this morning, so we were able to get on Skype and chat for a few minutes before my quiet time and having to get ready for work. Part of that chat was a virtual tea party.

There's Internet where I'm going, so we'll be able to have more of these parties as the year goes on. But, I wonder, will being able to see my family but not being able to touch them make the separation harder? What do you think?