White Coat Syndrome

This past weekend did not end well.  It started out as promising as any other weekend but ended with a trip to the ER on Sunday night.  Like a said, it was not a good ending to the weekend.

Basically, what happened was that I was walking down the stairs with my daughter in my arms I lost my footing and fell.  More like I slid on my behind for about 5 or so steps.  It was one of those “time in slow motion” moments from the second my foot slipped out from under me.  Had about a hundred thoughts and visions in my mind in a span that probably lasted no more than a few seconds. Thoughts such as,

“Oh, I’m falling.”

“The baby! Keep the baby up!”

“Don’t let go of the baby!”

and  “This is going to hurt.”

These thoughts were accompanied by simultaneous thoughts of how to best position my body to best protect my daughter from injury and horrid visions of my being incapacitated when I’m the sole caregiver of my daughter while my wife is away.  Not good thoughts. 

The fall now over, I did a quick check of myself and other than sore bum didn’t seem worse for the wear.  My daughter, on the other hand, didn’t fare as well.  She was crying inconsolably.  I could not get her to stop and she was grabbing my shirt as if for dear life.  At first I thought she was scared from the fall but she wouldn’t stop crying and that was my first clue that something was wrong.  Then I noticed her right foot looked slightly bigger than her left but couldn’t really tell if it was swelling or not. There was no discoloration and otherwise no other outward appearance that something was wrong. Then she tried to walk. 

She took one step and immediately grabbed the ottoman in the living room that she was standing next to for support.  Took another few steps all the while limping and holding on the ottoman.  Then the crying started again and I decided to take her to the ER.  One of the good things of being married to a doctor is that she has a lot of doctor friends.  On my way to the hospital I was able to get a hold of one those friends who was able to answer my questions and affirmed my decision to bring her to the ER.

Once at the ER we were able to get an X-Ray and ultimately left with a splint on my daughter’s right foot.  Or should I say lower leg.  They actually molded a splint that went from her foot, all the way up to just below the knee.  By the time we were done it looked more like she had a broken leg than a sprained foot.  It is also a very good guilt producing implement.  Seeing her looking miserable like that just made me want to crawl into a hole. 

One thing to note, my daughter does not like hospitals.  I’ll be amazed if after all is said an done, between the ER, the x-ray lab, and the exam rooms that she doesn’t end up developing White Coat Syndrome.  While that x-ray table probably doesn’t look too threatening to us, to her it probably looks something like this:

Needless to say she was crying. A lot.  And I felt terrible.

After bringing her home she thankfully fell asleep and slept peacefully.  I decided to take a sick day off of work the next day just to watch her and give her comfort.  I brought her by to see the pediatrician and he confirmed that there were no fractures evident in the x-rays.  He also didn’t think that she needed such an awkwardly molded splint and advised that it was better to take it off. 

Since then my daughter is much happier after removing the splint.  She’s actually able to put weight on the injured foot and may take a few steps but not comfortably.  Hopefully she’ll recover quickly and forgive her old man for his clumsiness.

Tip: When you’re spouse is deployed and you have kids, keep a cell phone on you at ALL times.  Just in case something happens to you and you need help. You’re the only one they (your kids) can count on so you have to stay healthy.

Also, don’t fall while walking down the stairs and holding your child.

Blessed be the Lord, because He has heard the voice of my supplication.  The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in Him, and I am helped; therefore my heart exults, and with my song I shall thank Him.

                                                                        Pslams 28:6-7

A Wee Problem…

This is a T.M.I. post.

 

So one day, as I was changing the diaper of my daughter, I thought about how nice it would be on the day where she’s potty trained and could pretty much take care of herself in that respect.  No more being nervous of a surprise attack until you get that new diaper on.  No more struggling with a wriggling baby. No more Diaper Genie and its sausage of poo to discard.  Yes life would be good at that point. 

So, naturally it got me thinking about potty training my 17 month old.  Surely it can’t be too far off now could it?  Like any guy I immediately began to think about which tool or gadget I could buy to make potty training a snap.  Don’t they have those kid potties that sing and play music?  I’m sure there’s a self-cleaning kind.  I know! I need to get a potty from Japan! They have the BEST TOILETS IN THE WORLD!  If I had one of those I could just plop her on the potty, stick my mp3 player in the cradle, stick a Yo Gabba Gabba DVD in the slot, wait 10 minutes and magically have a potty trained daughter, all multi-media like.  This was going to be easy.  I just needed to get myself to Babies R Us or a plane to Japan.

It was time to do a bit of research on the ol’ interwebz on how this potty training business really works.  Basically, most of the websites all say that you’ll know when your toddler is ready for potty training when she begins to show an interest in it.  Okay, she’s not showing any interest yet, so maybe I’ll have to wait.  The websites go on further to say that one of the ways they learn how to go and how they develop interest is by watching their parents go.  Okay, got it.

Wait.

What?

Oh no, no.  NO! This is NOT going to work! It’s one thing to have a set of large wondering eyes stare at you while you go about your business (uncomfortable as it is) but it’s entirely another thing when it’s a daughter watching the father in order to learn how to pee?!?!  Well, one big problem with that is how guys pee and my daughter’s current fascination with running water.

Yup.  Let’s just let that sink in for a bit.  Guys do their business standing up. My daughter likes to grab at running water. ‘nuff said.

The other issue is that she doesn’t need to know the guy method of going to the bathroom.  She needs to know the female method.  Standing up vs.. sitting down.  Again, as a guy, this just hurts me to the core.  Guys do not sit down to pee.  It’s just not right.  I have the most unamused look on my face when just thinking about it.  Compounding the problem is that she’s a 17 month that gets into everything and therefore, cannot be left alone.  So either I hold it until she’s ready for a nap or bed, or I…I…(sigh) sit down with her there with.  Arrrrgh!

Yet another reason why having a deployed wife is no fun.

 

I could always train her on a “Go Girl” but my wife probably wouldn’t like that.

The Go Girl Funnel

Mission Ready

*Not my kid. 

Kitchen is clean. Dishes washed. Dinner is cooked. Laundry is washing. Baby and Daddy happy.

And NO BROCOLLI.

Mailing it in.

I slacked yesterday.

Big Time.

And today I’m paying for it.  I decided that I just didn’t want to do the chores that I should’ve done before I went to bed last night.

I was tired.  All that talk about routines and structure? Yeah. Out the window.  It was back to my “whatever type that isn’t A” personality.  I figured I didn’t need to be on top of it.  That I didn’t need to get to things like dishes, laundry, and cleaning right away.  I mean, what could it hurt to let it slide a little. I deserved a little R&R especially after a full day of work too.  Well, it’s pretty amazing what you can choose to ignore when your feeling lazy.  I awoke this morning and almost called the cops when I walked into the kitchen.  Ok, maybe that’s an exaggeration but it looked like someone had broken into the home and pretty much ransacked the kitchen.  Utensils, dirty dishes, pots, pans were all over the place and they all need to be washed. Ugh.  What was I thinking?  Compounding the mess was the fact that for last night’s dinner I had to call in my personal chef, Ettore Boiardi.  Most of you know him as Chef Boyardee.  So not only were there dishes, pots, pans, and other kitchen paraphernalia strewn about the kitchen, it was all coated with the nice red sheen of tomato sauce.  Any parent will tell you that feeding a toddler tomato based products is a sure fire way to make a mess.  It did, however, made me think that my daughter would enjoy finger painting.  Water based of course.

But that brings me to my dilemma.  Not only did I slack-off majorly in terms of cleaning yesterday, I also pretty much mailed it in when it came to preparing my daughter’s dinner last night.  Sure the can says “A Full Serving Vegetables” on it, but come on, that’s like me drinking a V8 and telling my wife that I’d eaten my vegetables today.  I  never convinced her of that and usually got a bop on the head for my efforts, just like in the commercials.

By the way, don’t let that ad fool you.  Ravioli is NEVER as neat and clean as that picture would have you believe.  That kid isn’t about to eat that piece of ravioli.  Oh no. He’s trying to fool everyone into thinking that while calculating the best trajectory to fling that pasta projectile at the camera with maximum splattage. My daughter, on the other hand,  is more of a ravioli ninja (so proud, sniff). I was sure I was watching my daughter the entire time but she somehow still managed to get ravioli under her and smear it all over her butt without my noticing.  She went for maximum smearage instead of splattage.

But I digress.  Back to my conundrum.  Using the Chef is reserved as my last resort.  But here I was, 6 days into my wife’s deployment and having to use my last resort.  I was tapped out. I had run out of ideas on what to feed a 17 month old whose teeth haven’t all come in yet.  What do I cook for her? What is she able to eat? What could I make for myself that she could and would also enjoy? I mean, if I could cook for myself like I normally would she’d be eating steak or some form of red meat ALL THE TIME.  Or BBQ. Or something deep fried.  You get the point.  I’m pretty sure she can’t (and probably shouldn’t) handle that yet or ever (reason #1,923,234 why my wife is awesome, she keeps me from eating myself to death).

She’s got to be tired of steamed broccoli by now.

I know I am. :-/

High School Never Ends?

So there’s a song by Bowling for Soup called “High School Never Ends” that I find witty and catchy but my wife thinks is stupid.  It’s basically about a band making the observation that to them it seems like the world is like one big high school. They feel like even though they’ve graduated from high school, they can’t seem to escape the sense that nothing has really changed.  It’s just a bigger stage.

Why am I writing about this?  Well, the other day I caught myself waiting desperately for word or contact from my wife.  Just wanted to hear from her.  I would set up the computer so that it was always within arms reach in case she wanted to Skype.  The phones (home and cell) never left my side.  Every little blip, bloop, or beep brought running back to the computer to see if it was something from her.  I would go back and re-read recent e-mails for hidden messages.  Gaze and moon at pictures of her.  In short, I was acting like an angst ridden and rather emo teenager all over again. 

I was sitting there feeling sorry for myself and suddenly thought “Hey…all this feels kind of familiar.”  Then it hit me.  I was having flash backs of the days of being young, single, and pimple ridden.  It kind of sucked.  Those days of unrequited love (love? more like crushes) were pretty pathetic and here I was feeling the same way and acting like a teen again.  I had to snap out of it.  Back to the routine, back to being Mr. Roboto and keeping busy. 

Fortunately, these days I think I have better handle of myself and was able to find more constructive methods of occupying my time rather sitting around like some moody teen (Back in my day “emo” wasn’t a word yet so I was just “moody”).  ‘sides…it’s not like I have to wonder how she feels about me.  (BTW…quick note to all you single guys out there. Man up and tell her how you feel already.  You’re driving her nuts and probably making her mad too. Bad juju.)

This blog helps.  Being pro-active about sending her messages helps (and guys…we need to be taking the lead here).  Figuring out new ways to communicate helps.  I just realized this morning that I can actually record and send private videos via facebook to my wife and have it be for her eyes only.  One of the things we talked about was doing a devotional together but being oceans apart and having a 9 hour time difference makes it difficult.  With this I was able to upload a video of me reading the devotional, express my thoughts on it, and upload it to her via facebook.  Love technology and yet another thing to keep me occupied.

Tip of the day: Grow-up and do something about it already.

Domo Arigato Mr. Roboto…

So I’ve been told by many people that one of the best ways to handle the separation of deployment is to get myself back into a routine and really focus on the tasks at hand.  It helps to get your mind off the fact that your wife is in a far off land in a war and the routine itself becomes a comfort after experiencing the upheaval that comes from deployment. 

For me, while establishing a daily routine has be helpful for having the day go by a little faster, it is actually more of a necessity for survival rather than a tool of distraction. There would be absolutely no way for me to handle the responsibilities of taking care of my daughter, my job, and managing a home unless I had some plan or structure.  This is all kind of new to me because I’m not a “structure” kind of guy.  That’s my wife.  She’s the type A personality.  I’m the “whatever type that isn’t A” personality.  Despite that, I’ve come to rely on a routine to get me through the day and to ensure the house isn’t a disaster, my daughter doesn’t go hungry, and I can keep my job.  Like I said, it’s a matter of survival.

Having a 17 month old makes it even more critical that I have something established because she doesn’t understand it when I explain to her that I can’t play with her right now because Daddy has to cook your dinner. I need to you sit here and not move for the next 45 minutes of so.  Her normal response to that is an angry look and a “nnnnrnnnrrrrrrggghhh!!!!!” type sound.  Followed by much wailing and gnashing of teeth (that would be me).  A 17 month old sitting still is about as elusive as a male military spouse and they (the 17 month old) require ALL of your attention.  So, to help facilitate my spending quality time with her, my schedule goes something like this.

1. 6:00am Get up and get ready for day.
2. 6:30am Get baby changed and dressed and give her a morning bottle.
3. 6:45 Off to day-care
4. 7:15 Work starts (also make coffee here)
5. 11:30 Lunch but really it’s to run errands like going to the store.
6. 3:00 start making dinner (still at work though – I work from home full-time, my firm is awesome.)
7. 4:15pm sign-off of work, go pick baby up from day-care.
8. 5:00pm play with baby
9. 6:00pm warm dinner
10. 7:30pm bath-time for baby, play with her some more.
11. 8:00pm Skype with wife for a bit
12. 8:30pm put baby to bed
13. 9:00pm dishes, clean kitchen and all the food the baby has thrown on the floor.
14. 10:00pm sleep

Rinse and Repeat.

Tip: Don’t Panic!

Then the Lord God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone; I will make him a helper suitable for him”  Out of the ground the Lord God formed every beast of the field and every bird of the sky, and brought them to the man to see what he would call them; and whatever the man called a living creature, that was its name.  The man gave names to all the cattle, and to the birds of the sky, and to every beast of the field, but for Adam there was not found a helper suitable for him.  So the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon the man, and he slept; then He took one of his ribs and close up the flesh at that place.  The Lord God fashioned into a woman the rib which He had taken from the man, and brought her to the man.                                           

                                                                                                                            - Genesis 2:18-22

…and now nothing seems right.

Before I get started I am going to apologize in advance for what I believe will be a melodramatic and overly sentimental post.  You see, I don’t see myself as a sentimental guy, well, at least not in public.  I’m the kind of guy that will pick a brainless, rock’em, sock’em sci-fi movie over a drama/chick flick any day of the week.  My wife already knows to expect one guy movie for every chick flick that comes in our Netflix delivery (okay..maybe two).  She also knows to not expect me to watch said chick flick with her (fair play also dictates that I do not subject her to my guy movies either!).  Give me Michael Bay’s Transformers and you can have The Notebook, thank-you very much.

The thing is, lately I’ve been feeling more Notebookish than Transformersy.  I don’t like it but I have a very good reason for it.  You see, my wife was deployed to Iraq on Friday January 1, 2010. Some New Years eh?

This is our first deployment.  We knew it was coming and we knew to expect it.  It’s a fact of life for every member of this military   community and something that all military families eventually have to deal with.  I just didn’t expect it to hit me so hard.  All the while leading up to deployment I was focused on reassuring my wife to not worry about the home front.  We made plans and arrangements so that I would be able to effectively care for our 17 month old daughter.  We invested in technology so that we would be able to communicate effectively.  I was so focused on doing whatever I could to help ease the pain of separation for my wife and my daughter that I forgot to think about how I would cope.  I mean, c’mon, I’m a guy. I can handle it right?  Well, sorta.

In terms of the daily stuff of managing the home and caring for the baby, well, I feel that I have a pretty good handle of things so far.  I have a regular full-time career so the baby already goes to a day care during the day.  Her routine won’t be changed too much.  We’ve hired a house-keeper to come every other week to help with the home so it’s not a bio-hazard by the time my wife comes home. I was already doing most of the cooking so that shouldn’t change so much either.  So in terms of the day to day logistical stuff, I think I’ve got it pretty well covered.  What I didn’t account for was my emotional response and how much my wife leaving would impact me.  She’s so much a part of my life and a part of me that watching that part of me in the form of a pretty, petite blonde dressed in BDUs and fly 7000 miles away on a plane felt like having a pound of flesh ripped from my body.  It literally, physically caused me pain.

Now, I’m not writing this to cause guilt to my wife (who reads this) but rather to express just how much I love her and how much she is a part of me and why I’m feeling the way I am.  Lord knows she’s just as upset about being away from her family as we are. But since that Friday morning when she left nothing has seemed right.  There is a void in our lives where she should be.  She’s not sitting next to me in the car when I’m driving.  She’s not on the couch in the living at home when we’re spending time together as a family.  She’s no longer lying next to me in bed at night (where her feet of ice can get me).  Her laughter, her smile, her annoyance at my “guy habits,” I could go on and on.  The void is tangible and to me it’s only an illustration of how much I love her and how much she is my true companion in life.  You could say that I get The Notebook now.  She’s the love of my life and I would give it all up to be with her and it kills me that I can’t be there with her.

I’m still not watching those movies though.

See, I told you this was going to be a melodramatic, overly sentimental post.  The thing is, I think I needed the catharsis.  I’d been having intermittent spells of blubbering like a little girl all weekend and I think I’ve finally let it all out.  Things are getting better now (not easier, just better able to function)  but I still miss my wife terribly and can’t wait for her to get home.

So…I guess it’s time for the first tip of the Air Force Husband’s Handbook. 

Tip:  When you and your wife are preparing for her deployment, it’s easy to get into guy mode and play the “rock” for your wife and family, as you should.  But don’t forget to look in yourself and prepare yourself for the separation.  You just might find yourself watching The Notebook if your not prepared.

“Everyone who comes to Me and hears My words and acts on them, I will show you whom he is like: he is like a man building a house, who dug deep and laid a foundation on the rock; and when a flood occurred, the torrent burst against that house and could not shake it, because it had been well built.”

                                                                                           Luke 6:47 & 48

An Introduction to the Handbook

So first things first, let’s have a bit of an introduction and an explanation for the title of this little blog, “The Air Force ‘Husbands’ Handbook.  I am, as the title suggests, an Air Force husband.  Or more accurately, I am the male civilian spouse of a wonderful woman that is serving our country as an officer in the Air Force.  The “handbook” part comes courtesy of an inside joke from one of my friends back when he found out I had gotten engaged.  He found it necessary to send me an engagement gift and of course, being the jokester that he is, it couldn’t just be any old gift.  It had to have special meaning to commemorate such a momentous and joyous event.  Yes,  he decided that a lovely mint copy of “The Air Force Wife Handbook: A Complete Social Guide ”  would be the most appropriate gift for me.

 

Needless to say, I was not amused. 

It was only made worse after I opened and read some of it that I discovered that it was chock full  helpful advice about how to successfully host afternoon tea with other officers wives.  Or the proper manner in which to address invitations when hosting a dinner party.  The right type of dress to wear to a formal military function.  Yeah…  Excuse me while I go look for my masculinity, the Air Force seems to think that it is missing.  I have a lot more to say about that but maybe in another entry.

Now full disclosure here, this isn’t really a handbook.  It’s really just a place for me to reflect on and write about my experience of being married to a loving, wonderful and beautiful woman who just happens to be in the military… and can disassemble and re-assemble a M-16… and then shoot it.