Yup, its official, for now. We were told late yesterday afternoon that the operational deletion of Travis' orders went through and was accepted. He is safe, for the time being.
What traditionally happens when there is this type of deletion is that in a month or two, or maybe three, he'll come down on orders again. Okie Dokie. We wanted to know, we know, but for some reason I don't feel all that secure in this.
Oh, then there's what Travis said last night while we were talking about it. He said, "Well, maybe Korea will show up on the radar. If it does, then I can take that, leave here, not go to Iraq again, then I'll wind up being stationed back here again." Umm, if that's what you want, Baby. I guess in an odd way that's the best of everything.
I think after the go-round we've had over the last two months, with all the uncertainty, he has reconsidered going back to Iraq. I'm ok with that, he's certainly the expert of the two of us. I wouldn't want to go back to the land of (as Travis puts it) "smelly dudes in dresses." Hmm, can't say I blame him.
So, we stay in the southwest. We like it here. Amanda will be through the moon on this one. She's been willing the staying to happen. Nolan will be pissed. I mean pissed! We haven't told him yet.
No boxes. Yet...
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Whatever
We still don't know. Pick your jaw up.
Travis' orders were put on operational deletion last week. All that could have been done at that point was done and the deletion went through.
But then, Travis spoke with the post retention guy, Mr. W. Mr. W told Travis that he would just come out on the next assignment cycle list (due out today, Tuesday) with the same assignment and the same report date. So, what the heck, people? Sure, we'll all put the effort into pushing forward an operational deletion (royal pain in the nalgas), but then we'll recend that in five days. What the hell ever.
Travis said last week that he was really starting to think this was a sign that he should just quit fighting it and take whatever assignment rolled downhill at him.
I'm fine, either way. I just want to know when I have to start packing. Is that too much to ask?
Along those lines, and outside of them as well, Friday night in the car (while shuttling back and forth across town) I asked Amanda what Edison wanted for Christmas. She said she wasn't sure. I asked her if she asked him and she told me that she had. Then she said, "Well, he told me that as long as we didn't move that was all the Christmas he needed." OK, I was driving. That was so totally not fair. I almost wrecked the truck from the eyes tearing up. This is not a contriving, maniachal, a-hole of a 14 year-old. He's so super sweet to her and everyone else. I swear I think I am in love with the kid.
So, we don't know. Travis is supposed to go on PCS leave on Thursday but today he's working some exercise I should know the acronym for but don't. They are simulating a battle. Whatever. Fort Bliss refuses to cut him deletional orders because he never had paper orders in-hand because of all the brouhaha. So, he can't begin to clear without orders. No orders, no clearing, no deletion, no stay, must clear, can't clear, can't plan, can't stop working, can't think, can't breathe. Whatever.
Travis' orders were put on operational deletion last week. All that could have been done at that point was done and the deletion went through.
But then, Travis spoke with the post retention guy, Mr. W. Mr. W told Travis that he would just come out on the next assignment cycle list (due out today, Tuesday) with the same assignment and the same report date. So, what the heck, people? Sure, we'll all put the effort into pushing forward an operational deletion (royal pain in the nalgas), but then we'll recend that in five days. What the hell ever.
Travis said last week that he was really starting to think this was a sign that he should just quit fighting it and take whatever assignment rolled downhill at him.
I'm fine, either way. I just want to know when I have to start packing. Is that too much to ask?
Along those lines, and outside of them as well, Friday night in the car (while shuttling back and forth across town) I asked Amanda what Edison wanted for Christmas. She said she wasn't sure. I asked her if she asked him and she told me that she had. Then she said, "Well, he told me that as long as we didn't move that was all the Christmas he needed." OK, I was driving. That was so totally not fair. I almost wrecked the truck from the eyes tearing up. This is not a contriving, maniachal, a-hole of a 14 year-old. He's so super sweet to her and everyone else. I swear I think I am in love with the kid.
So, we don't know. Travis is supposed to go on PCS leave on Thursday but today he's working some exercise I should know the acronym for but don't. They are simulating a battle. Whatever. Fort Bliss refuses to cut him deletional orders because he never had paper orders in-hand because of all the brouhaha. So, he can't begin to clear without orders. No orders, no clearing, no deletion, no stay, must clear, can't clear, can't plan, can't stop working, can't think, can't breathe. Whatever.
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Saturday
I'm writing to avoid showering. I have nothing against showering, in fact, 'tis one of my verymost favorite things . BUT, today, showering means the official start of another insane day.
Yesterday I woke early to make sure I was ready to go to Nolan's school when Travis returned from PT. We had a complaint to make. While getting ready, the blow-dryer crapped out on me. No prob, grab the teen's. Hers crapped out on me too. Luckily enough I was close enough to finish that it wasn't that big an issue. (add to the agenda a trip out for a blow-dryer) Travis got home, showered, changed and we were off to elementaryville. We brought a written statement signed by the boy and myself. The principal read it and she's pretty hard to read, but I think she was totally disgusted. After much conversation, it was apparent she was behind us all the way. She called in the counselor, with whom Nolan has been working regularly, and she advised us of whom we needed to speak with at the district level and in the UTEP College of Education. Then she asked if we wanted to talk to Mr. Fodfriguez. Initially I said no, then I changed my mind. She brought him in and I let him have it. I really did. I don't even remember everything I said, but I know it was a quality ass-chewing. And, it felt so good. At one point, I paused to breathe and regain what little composure I had and he began to speak. What pleased me most of all was when he did. I don't think he had three syllables out when I looked him dead in the eye and said, "NO, do not speak. You do not get to speak. This time, you are not in control." He stopped, took a second to process what I had said and then started to look like a scolded puppy. Hope it sucked to be you, you fecal remnant (thank you, Mr. Randy, for that phrase which I reserve only for the truly fecalest of all remnants). Once I was done, Travis had his very short but very effective turn on him. Then he began to speak. In the three fractured sentences he spoke he gave three different accounts. That is when Travis displayed one of the things I love most about him. He said, "Nah, you're done. I gotta stick by my kid here. His story hasn't changed from the first time it came out of his mouth and you can't even get the first part of your story right every time. You're done. He's a kid. You're supposed to be a teacher. You screwed up and you're done." He didn't have to get pretty with his words, he just said it. I highly recommend letting someone who REALLY deserves it have it at least once in your life- theraputic, cathartic, healing. Ahh, feels good.
Left the school and headed to WalMart for a blow-dryer, had the onset of a migraine (hmm, could that have been the stress talking?) by the time I got there, so I turned around and went home. I slept for a while, then slowly got up and started to tidy up the house a bit. I started dinner, got the boy from school, came home and got ready for the night. Amanda came home, she changed and we were out the door. Nolan had weigh-ins for today's wrestling tourney (thanks to Travis for handling the weigh-in), Amanda had El Paso Youth Symphony rehearsal at the same time, and then she had a dance. So, while rehearsal was underway I ran to the mall (hell) for some Christmas shopping. I came back and had a quick meeting with Maestro about PR (my new job), got the girl, fed her, took her to Hanks High for the dance, left and went to WalMart for healthy energy-boosting low-fat foods for the boy at the tourney (forgot the blow-dryer) and then returned to the school where I prepared to wait over an hour for it to end (because the school is 35 minutes from the house). Lucky for me, after ten minutes she called and said the dance was over. Ah, the angels sang.
At midnight I made a wowie lunch and packed it in the new spiffy cooler I got at WalMart, while forgetting to get a blow-dryer, complete with water, paper plates, napkins, snacks and hand sanitizer (nasty flesh eating diseases are communicable under certain circumstances). I did laundry all night. Yes, all night. I napped between swapping out loads. I maybe got 2.5 hours of sleep total. I have a house to get ready for my cookie exchange tomorrow and every little bit counts.
I rose from the recliner at 5:50 and finished off my last load of laundry. I made breakfast for the boy, I cleaned the kitchen. I got the boys out the door so Nolan could get stretched with the team and I watched an episode of Rachael Ray. I am supposed to be at the Coliseum in half an hour. I don't think it is goin' to happen qhite that quickly. I'll get there, at some point. But, then I have to leave, come back out here to the house, pick up Amanda, take her to EPYSO rehearsal again, go back to the tourney, go back to the rehearsal to pick her up, go home and wait for her babysitting job to pick her up. Then I get to clean for the cookie exchange. I still have some more baking to do too.
I am tired.
And worse yet, I have no blow-dryer.
Yesterday I woke early to make sure I was ready to go to Nolan's school when Travis returned from PT. We had a complaint to make. While getting ready, the blow-dryer crapped out on me. No prob, grab the teen's. Hers crapped out on me too. Luckily enough I was close enough to finish that it wasn't that big an issue. (add to the agenda a trip out for a blow-dryer) Travis got home, showered, changed and we were off to elementaryville. We brought a written statement signed by the boy and myself. The principal read it and she's pretty hard to read, but I think she was totally disgusted. After much conversation, it was apparent she was behind us all the way. She called in the counselor, with whom Nolan has been working regularly, and she advised us of whom we needed to speak with at the district level and in the UTEP College of Education. Then she asked if we wanted to talk to Mr. Fodfriguez. Initially I said no, then I changed my mind. She brought him in and I let him have it. I really did. I don't even remember everything I said, but I know it was a quality ass-chewing. And, it felt so good. At one point, I paused to breathe and regain what little composure I had and he began to speak. What pleased me most of all was when he did. I don't think he had three syllables out when I looked him dead in the eye and said, "NO, do not speak. You do not get to speak. This time, you are not in control." He stopped, took a second to process what I had said and then started to look like a scolded puppy. Hope it sucked to be you, you fecal remnant (thank you, Mr. Randy, for that phrase which I reserve only for the truly fecalest of all remnants). Once I was done, Travis had his very short but very effective turn on him. Then he began to speak. In the three fractured sentences he spoke he gave three different accounts. That is when Travis displayed one of the things I love most about him. He said, "Nah, you're done. I gotta stick by my kid here. His story hasn't changed from the first time it came out of his mouth and you can't even get the first part of your story right every time. You're done. He's a kid. You're supposed to be a teacher. You screwed up and you're done." He didn't have to get pretty with his words, he just said it. I highly recommend letting someone who REALLY deserves it have it at least once in your life- theraputic, cathartic, healing. Ahh, feels good.
Left the school and headed to WalMart for a blow-dryer, had the onset of a migraine (hmm, could that have been the stress talking?) by the time I got there, so I turned around and went home. I slept for a while, then slowly got up and started to tidy up the house a bit. I started dinner, got the boy from school, came home and got ready for the night. Amanda came home, she changed and we were out the door. Nolan had weigh-ins for today's wrestling tourney (thanks to Travis for handling the weigh-in), Amanda had El Paso Youth Symphony rehearsal at the same time, and then she had a dance. So, while rehearsal was underway I ran to the mall (hell) for some Christmas shopping. I came back and had a quick meeting with Maestro about PR (my new job), got the girl, fed her, took her to Hanks High for the dance, left and went to WalMart for healthy energy-boosting low-fat foods for the boy at the tourney (forgot the blow-dryer) and then returned to the school where I prepared to wait over an hour for it to end (because the school is 35 minutes from the house). Lucky for me, after ten minutes she called and said the dance was over. Ah, the angels sang.
At midnight I made a wowie lunch and packed it in the new spiffy cooler I got at WalMart, while forgetting to get a blow-dryer, complete with water, paper plates, napkins, snacks and hand sanitizer (nasty flesh eating diseases are communicable under certain circumstances). I did laundry all night. Yes, all night. I napped between swapping out loads. I maybe got 2.5 hours of sleep total. I have a house to get ready for my cookie exchange tomorrow and every little bit counts.
I rose from the recliner at 5:50 and finished off my last load of laundry. I made breakfast for the boy, I cleaned the kitchen. I got the boys out the door so Nolan could get stretched with the team and I watched an episode of Rachael Ray. I am supposed to be at the Coliseum in half an hour. I don't think it is goin' to happen qhite that quickly. I'll get there, at some point. But, then I have to leave, come back out here to the house, pick up Amanda, take her to EPYSO rehearsal again, go back to the tourney, go back to the rehearsal to pick her up, go home and wait for her babysitting job to pick her up. Then I get to clean for the cookie exchange. I still have some more baking to do too.
I am tired.
And worse yet, I have no blow-dryer.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
I'm Sorry, are You Stupid?
Current mood: savage
It still amazes me that there are things which amaze me about human behavior. There is no end to the stupid things people say and do at the expense of others and that is really starting to piss me off. Another thing which amazes me is that I have exercised such tremendous strength in fighting off my urge to beat the living shit out of the people who do and say stupid things at the expense of others. I've had enough and now, I'm bringin' it. Watch out. Oh, and the stressed out husband will be at the center of the matter as well. Someone will pay. Someone will be uncomfortable.
Nolan has ALWAYS had a problem with self-esteem. He gets gigged a lot by a lot of people. I tell his teachers that he is a good kid with high maintenance needs in the classroom. When he is bored, he is trouble. When he is emotional in any way (positive or negative), he is trouble. Keeping him focused and on-task and quiet are challenges. And no, he doesn't have ADD. But, he is a good kid. I know it may not seem that way from what I've said, but he is. And, even more important, he has a HUGE, easy to break heart.
Several weeks ago, things got bumpy at school for him. He'd been being teased at school incessantly since the year began by tons of kids. He didn't tell us for a long time. They were teasing him about his weight. He was getting into fights and not taking responsibility for his actions and he even told us that he felt like he had no control over anything.
All this happened right around the time the kids saw the pediatric gastroenterologist for their diagnosis of Celiac's Disease. After meeting with this dumbass doctor, we learned that the tests run on the kids and I are actually not reliable tools for diagnosis as 25% of all tested have false negative results and that the truest test would be for me to have genetic testing. If my tests were to come back positive, then the kids would be tested for accurate diagnosis. My results still aren't in, but we are eating wheat and other gluten-containing grains in moderate quantities. What is actually more important about this visit to the doctor is what he said and did to my kids. He told Amanda to lose 40 pounds. Yes, 40. She's nearly 5'3" and losing 40 pounds would take her below 100 pounds. We have worked a lot on helping her develop a healthy body and a healthy opinion of her body. She's 14, she's still growing, she is active and she doesn't need the hit this guy took out on her. While examining Nolan he began to poke his belly a la Pilsbury Doughboy and tell him that, "Your only problem is that you need to lose this fat tire around your middle." "Your guts are full of crap and if you don't take care of yourself you'll always be fat because you eat crappy food." "You'll never be successful in football if you can't get fast and you can't get fast if you stay fat." Yes, he did. Nolan was in tears before we even got to the door of the room we were in as we left. I later made a huge complaint with the hospital. He got dealt with. Now, that said, I don't know of too many families who eat as healthfully as we eat. But, whatever.
*We've been eating better as a family. At this point, Nolan has grown almost an inch and a half since the second week of October (when his official weigh in was noted by the doctor) and he has lost six pounds.
Obviously, my boy's self-worth was in the crapper. Hence, he was frustrated. Therefore, he was confused. Thus, he began to take control by asserting himself in whatever way possible. That begat fighting, which begat suspension, which begat attitude with parents and peers, which begat ugliness every day. He felt like the teachers there were out to get him because they were not necessarily tolerant of him and the more trouble he got into, the worse the classroom situations were. And the cycle began again. And he felt like he had no one, adult-wise, who believed in him or would take up for him at school.
Once the fat teasing was brought to the attention of the administration of his school, they offered to help him work on his challenges with the counselor. They also promised us and Nolan that the adults he came into contact with were there to help him feel safe and protected. They asked our family to trust them enough to know that they would take care of problems if he would seek them out when those problems came about. He did, and for the most part, they have too. Things have slowly gotten better at school and home.
Today Nolan came home from band practice and said, "Oh, guess what Mom?" I asked him, "What?" to which he replied that he had an issue with his class' intern. So I then asked him what had happened. He proceeded to tell me that shortly after lunch recess was over the class had gone back to the room with Mr. Fodfriguez (you know how I am about names). At that time, Nolan said he had seen some chocolate candy in the inside pocket of his jacket, so he asked him, "Hey, Mr. Fodfriguez, is that chocolate for us?" Mr. Fodfriguez then said to Nolan (in front of the full class), "Why would it be for you guys when you (indicating Nolan) need to go on the Jenny Craig diet and lose some weight?" The entire class then laughed. Nolan put his head down and began to read his book. A short time later, Mr. P. (the actual teacher) returned to the room. When he did, Nolan asked if he could speak to him in private. Mr. P. said yes and took Nolan to the hall. Nolan then told him what had happened with Mr. Fodfriguez, to which Mr. P. replied that it was not fair for Mr. Fodfriguez to say what he did and that he would talk to him about it. At that point he asked Mr. Fodfriguez to go to the hall and a few minutes later Mr. P. returned to the classroom and Nolan went to the hall with Mr. Fodfriguez, when he then apologized to Nolan by saying, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. Let's go back in and start over." And they did return to the classroom at that point.
Yes, he did.
I hugged my boy and told him that Travis and I would take care of it. I also told him I was proud of the way he handled himself in the situation and that he had nothing to be ashamed of. I called Travis who told me to let the administration know that we were going to the district with the problem and that we would meet with them as a courtesy before doing so. Travis wants to pursue an EO complaint and to seek out any punnishment possible for Mr. Fodfriguez. After I did some thinking, I realized that as a student teacher, he likely attends UTEP. UTEP has a College of Education and therefore must have a Dean of that college. I am going to take this to the Dean. I want this dweeb to feel this one for years. I hope this does prevent him from obtaining a teaching job. I hope this prevents him from ever even having the opportunity to injure another kid.
So, Mr. Fodfriguez, you don't have to like my kid, but you do have to teach him. You don't call the shots here. In fact, the school and even the district don't call the shots anymore either. This time, Travis and I call the shots and you screwed up. There is no tool to quantify the gallactic issue you've brought about. I hope you never forget that you hurt my kid. I hope you never forget that hurting a kid means that kid's parents will want to hurt you. AND, I hope you choke on our names every time you think of them. Bastard.
Tomorrow morning, Travis and I will be at the school once PT is over. We will inform the Principal, the Assistant Principal and the Counselor of the day's events (we have a written statement) and our course of action. Then we will call the district office to begin a formal complaint at that level. If I have the chance tomorrow I will be calling UTEP. If not, I'll take care of it Monday. We are looking into all the possibilities. Trust me, we ain't letting go.
You see, we owe it to the kid to be as rowdy as he can get as a reward for his perfect behavior.
It still amazes me that there are things which amaze me about human behavior. There is no end to the stupid things people say and do at the expense of others and that is really starting to piss me off. Another thing which amazes me is that I have exercised such tremendous strength in fighting off my urge to beat the living shit out of the people who do and say stupid things at the expense of others. I've had enough and now, I'm bringin' it. Watch out. Oh, and the stressed out husband will be at the center of the matter as well. Someone will pay. Someone will be uncomfortable.
Nolan has ALWAYS had a problem with self-esteem. He gets gigged a lot by a lot of people. I tell his teachers that he is a good kid with high maintenance needs in the classroom. When he is bored, he is trouble. When he is emotional in any way (positive or negative), he is trouble. Keeping him focused and on-task and quiet are challenges. And no, he doesn't have ADD. But, he is a good kid. I know it may not seem that way from what I've said, but he is. And, even more important, he has a HUGE, easy to break heart.
Several weeks ago, things got bumpy at school for him. He'd been being teased at school incessantly since the year began by tons of kids. He didn't tell us for a long time. They were teasing him about his weight. He was getting into fights and not taking responsibility for his actions and he even told us that he felt like he had no control over anything.
All this happened right around the time the kids saw the pediatric gastroenterologist for their diagnosis of Celiac's Disease. After meeting with this dumbass doctor, we learned that the tests run on the kids and I are actually not reliable tools for diagnosis as 25% of all tested have false negative results and that the truest test would be for me to have genetic testing. If my tests were to come back positive, then the kids would be tested for accurate diagnosis. My results still aren't in, but we are eating wheat and other gluten-containing grains in moderate quantities. What is actually more important about this visit to the doctor is what he said and did to my kids. He told Amanda to lose 40 pounds. Yes, 40. She's nearly 5'3" and losing 40 pounds would take her below 100 pounds. We have worked a lot on helping her develop a healthy body and a healthy opinion of her body. She's 14, she's still growing, she is active and she doesn't need the hit this guy took out on her. While examining Nolan he began to poke his belly a la Pilsbury Doughboy and tell him that, "Your only problem is that you need to lose this fat tire around your middle." "Your guts are full of crap and if you don't take care of yourself you'll always be fat because you eat crappy food." "You'll never be successful in football if you can't get fast and you can't get fast if you stay fat." Yes, he did. Nolan was in tears before we even got to the door of the room we were in as we left. I later made a huge complaint with the hospital. He got dealt with. Now, that said, I don't know of too many families who eat as healthfully as we eat. But, whatever.
*We've been eating better as a family. At this point, Nolan has grown almost an inch and a half since the second week of October (when his official weigh in was noted by the doctor) and he has lost six pounds.
Obviously, my boy's self-worth was in the crapper. Hence, he was frustrated. Therefore, he was confused. Thus, he began to take control by asserting himself in whatever way possible. That begat fighting, which begat suspension, which begat attitude with parents and peers, which begat ugliness every day. He felt like the teachers there were out to get him because they were not necessarily tolerant of him and the more trouble he got into, the worse the classroom situations were. And the cycle began again. And he felt like he had no one, adult-wise, who believed in him or would take up for him at school.
Once the fat teasing was brought to the attention of the administration of his school, they offered to help him work on his challenges with the counselor. They also promised us and Nolan that the adults he came into contact with were there to help him feel safe and protected. They asked our family to trust them enough to know that they would take care of problems if he would seek them out when those problems came about. He did, and for the most part, they have too. Things have slowly gotten better at school and home.
Today Nolan came home from band practice and said, "Oh, guess what Mom?" I asked him, "What?" to which he replied that he had an issue with his class' intern. So I then asked him what had happened. He proceeded to tell me that shortly after lunch recess was over the class had gone back to the room with Mr. Fodfriguez (you know how I am about names). At that time, Nolan said he had seen some chocolate candy in the inside pocket of his jacket, so he asked him, "Hey, Mr. Fodfriguez, is that chocolate for us?" Mr. Fodfriguez then said to Nolan (in front of the full class), "Why would it be for you guys when you (indicating Nolan) need to go on the Jenny Craig diet and lose some weight?" The entire class then laughed. Nolan put his head down and began to read his book. A short time later, Mr. P. (the actual teacher) returned to the room. When he did, Nolan asked if he could speak to him in private. Mr. P. said yes and took Nolan to the hall. Nolan then told him what had happened with Mr. Fodfriguez, to which Mr. P. replied that it was not fair for Mr. Fodfriguez to say what he did and that he would talk to him about it. At that point he asked Mr. Fodfriguez to go to the hall and a few minutes later Mr. P. returned to the classroom and Nolan went to the hall with Mr. Fodfriguez, when he then apologized to Nolan by saying, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. Let's go back in and start over." And they did return to the classroom at that point.
Yes, he did.
I hugged my boy and told him that Travis and I would take care of it. I also told him I was proud of the way he handled himself in the situation and that he had nothing to be ashamed of. I called Travis who told me to let the administration know that we were going to the district with the problem and that we would meet with them as a courtesy before doing so. Travis wants to pursue an EO complaint and to seek out any punnishment possible for Mr. Fodfriguez. After I did some thinking, I realized that as a student teacher, he likely attends UTEP. UTEP has a College of Education and therefore must have a Dean of that college. I am going to take this to the Dean. I want this dweeb to feel this one for years. I hope this does prevent him from obtaining a teaching job. I hope this prevents him from ever even having the opportunity to injure another kid.
So, Mr. Fodfriguez, you don't have to like my kid, but you do have to teach him. You don't call the shots here. In fact, the school and even the district don't call the shots anymore either. This time, Travis and I call the shots and you screwed up. There is no tool to quantify the gallactic issue you've brought about. I hope you never forget that you hurt my kid. I hope you never forget that hurting a kid means that kid's parents will want to hurt you. AND, I hope you choke on our names every time you think of them. Bastard.
Tomorrow morning, Travis and I will be at the school once PT is over. We will inform the Principal, the Assistant Principal and the Counselor of the day's events (we have a written statement) and our course of action. Then we will call the district office to begin a formal complaint at that level. If I have the chance tomorrow I will be calling UTEP. If not, I'll take care of it Monday. We are looking into all the possibilities. Trust me, we ain't letting go.
You see, we owe it to the kid to be as rowdy as he can get as a reward for his perfect behavior.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Is it Today?
Current mood: intense
Last week Travis met with his Sergeant Major about the whole reassignment deal. She flipped. Things weren't done in a timely manner along the way to no fault of our own. Rather, the people put in place to help when situations like this arise acted like morons and didn't do their jobs. I can honestly say, for most of our military career, things done by others have been done correctly, other than the stupid recruiter from the recruitment office at 27th and Bell who promised Travis that since he would be entering Basic with an Associate's Degree he would be an E-3 upon graduating Basic. I don't know if he forgot to write it in the contract or if he was blowing smoke up Travis' butt, but I heard him say it when I was at the office with Travis.
One of those little snafus in this whole mess was that the packet required Travis' signature after x amount of stuff was done. Instead of contacting his battalion, they let the packet sit in their office for over a week. Stupid people should have their pay docked regularly.
Anyway, back to the Sergeant Major. She flipped and started making phone calls. Eventually she reached the post Sergeant Major. He said he understood the problem and wanted to meet with Travis to ensure that what was being discussed was actually what Travis wants to happen. See, if he stays here at Fort Bliss, he'll deploy again next year (I already know, sounds crazy) but if he goes, he'll be in a somewhat cushy position and he probably wont deploy again.
Travis had asked me what I wanted as far as the move or not move I wanted. I told him the choice he made had to be his and his alone because when the battalion deploys next year, should something awful happen, I would have to live with the fact that it was my decision that kept him in a unit that would be going back to Hell. I also told him that if I decided I wanted to move and he went with that that I didn't want him upset with me if he hated the job.
Monday morning they met. The Command Sergeant Major understood all of Travis' reasons for wanting to stay: 1) He wants to remain in this position for his career, this is the next natural step in career progression in his field. 2) The kids are set here. Amanda and Nolan will both be able to start and most likely finish high school here. Nolan will have a truly great football coach next year if we stay. Amanda will be able to continue with the El Paso Youth Symphony. 3) My doctors are here, the same ones who saw me through my illness and even though any surgeon or endocrinologist can see me, it is still a comfort to a Soldier to know there is some continuity in his wife's medical care. 4) He was a Platoon Sergeant for over two years in his last unit and being a Platoon Sergeant again will not serve as progression in his career. 5) He just really wants to stay here... The CSM agreed with Travis on all points but told him that the only thing the Army sees is that he has been here all this time and they are trying to do him a favor by moving him out of a deployable position. While Travis was still there, he picked up the phone and called DA. He got no answer but promised to keep calling whomever he needed to. He expected to have some answers (maybe not the answer, but some nonetheless) by the end of the day. By the end of the day all we knew is that the info was at DA. We still have no real answer. He said it would be a super-hard sell because this is a DA selected position, but it might be possible.
I'm kinda hoping the snowball makes it.
Have I mentioned yet that his report date is 29 days away, across the country, in a state where neither of us has ever resided? Well, it is.
I am sitting here wondering if today is the day the stress ends, because remember, the new up-to-code heater should be making its way into my home today. If the answer comes down, that would be nice too.
At this point, I don't totally want to move, but I am ok if it does happen. I pulled myself out of go mode a few weeks ago and decided to not make a decision about moving or not. I am still pretty much in the same mind set. If we move, it will be hard, but it is what must happen. If we stay, it will be good because I don't have to pack all this crap and lug it across the country and the kids wont be uprooted and I'll be closer to my mother and I wont have to put the very old dog in a car and keep her there for three days while we drive and my family wont have to be apart for months while I sell the house without Travis and yadda, yadda, yadda. But, either way, I'm cool.
I just want to know. This is killing me.
Last week Travis met with his Sergeant Major about the whole reassignment deal. She flipped. Things weren't done in a timely manner along the way to no fault of our own. Rather, the people put in place to help when situations like this arise acted like morons and didn't do their jobs. I can honestly say, for most of our military career, things done by others have been done correctly, other than the stupid recruiter from the recruitment office at 27th and Bell who promised Travis that since he would be entering Basic with an Associate's Degree he would be an E-3 upon graduating Basic. I don't know if he forgot to write it in the contract or if he was blowing smoke up Travis' butt, but I heard him say it when I was at the office with Travis.
One of those little snafus in this whole mess was that the packet required Travis' signature after x amount of stuff was done. Instead of contacting his battalion, they let the packet sit in their office for over a week. Stupid people should have their pay docked regularly.
Anyway, back to the Sergeant Major. She flipped and started making phone calls. Eventually she reached the post Sergeant Major. He said he understood the problem and wanted to meet with Travis to ensure that what was being discussed was actually what Travis wants to happen. See, if he stays here at Fort Bliss, he'll deploy again next year (I already know, sounds crazy) but if he goes, he'll be in a somewhat cushy position and he probably wont deploy again.
Travis had asked me what I wanted as far as the move or not move I wanted. I told him the choice he made had to be his and his alone because when the battalion deploys next year, should something awful happen, I would have to live with the fact that it was my decision that kept him in a unit that would be going back to Hell. I also told him that if I decided I wanted to move and he went with that that I didn't want him upset with me if he hated the job.
Monday morning they met. The Command Sergeant Major understood all of Travis' reasons for wanting to stay: 1) He wants to remain in this position for his career, this is the next natural step in career progression in his field. 2) The kids are set here. Amanda and Nolan will both be able to start and most likely finish high school here. Nolan will have a truly great football coach next year if we stay. Amanda will be able to continue with the El Paso Youth Symphony. 3) My doctors are here, the same ones who saw me through my illness and even though any surgeon or endocrinologist can see me, it is still a comfort to a Soldier to know there is some continuity in his wife's medical care. 4) He was a Platoon Sergeant for over two years in his last unit and being a Platoon Sergeant again will not serve as progression in his career. 5) He just really wants to stay here... The CSM agreed with Travis on all points but told him that the only thing the Army sees is that he has been here all this time and they are trying to do him a favor by moving him out of a deployable position. While Travis was still there, he picked up the phone and called DA. He got no answer but promised to keep calling whomever he needed to. He expected to have some answers (maybe not the answer, but some nonetheless) by the end of the day. By the end of the day all we knew is that the info was at DA. We still have no real answer. He said it would be a super-hard sell because this is a DA selected position, but it might be possible.
I'm kinda hoping the snowball makes it.
Have I mentioned yet that his report date is 29 days away, across the country, in a state where neither of us has ever resided? Well, it is.
I am sitting here wondering if today is the day the stress ends, because remember, the new up-to-code heater should be making its way into my home today. If the answer comes down, that would be nice too.
At this point, I don't totally want to move, but I am ok if it does happen. I pulled myself out of go mode a few weeks ago and decided to not make a decision about moving or not. I am still pretty much in the same mind set. If we move, it will be hard, but it is what must happen. If we stay, it will be good because I don't have to pack all this crap and lug it across the country and the kids wont be uprooted and I'll be closer to my mother and I wont have to put the very old dog in a car and keep her there for three days while we drive and my family wont have to be apart for months while I sell the house without Travis and yadda, yadda, yadda. But, either way, I'm cool.
I just want to know. This is killing me.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
In Honor of the Crapliness
Current mood: full
Nolan was feeling better today so he went to school. My bout with whatever odd stomach bug we had started later in the day and I slept from about four yesterday afternoon until this morning when it was time to get the hooligans up. I spent most of the day with my stomach feeling better, but overall feeling totally wiped out. I didn't realize it, but I think I was dehydrated. Last night when I was feeling crappy I called Travis to ask him to either pick up dinner on the way home or pick up something he could make because I felt so horrible. He did. I don't know what he made, but no one complained. I was comatose.
I cleaned during the morning and when this afternoon rolled around I was dreading cooking. I knew I had to because I cashed in the only-good-once-monthly husband meal card last night. So, what did I do? I ran to WalMart. I knew with as bad as I felt I needed to make something that would be relatively easy on my stomach, but quick. Hmmm, soup! It was a double ringer because it was kind of cold today and we might get a little snow tonight.
Here is what I made...
Olive oil (enough to cover the bottom of the pot)
1 32 oz. bag of soup vegetables (the one I bought was potatoes, tomatoes, onions, celery, carrots, corn, green beans and okra)
1 store bought rotiserrie chicken with skin and bones removed, chopped into bite sized pieces
12 cups chicken broth (I used the boxed stuff, ran out of my own)
2 bay leaves
1 tsp. oregano (dried)
1 tsp. paprika
1 tsp. cumin
1 tsp. garlic powder
1/2 to 3/4 tsp. chicken bullion
salt and pepper to taste
1 cup instant rice
I heated up the pot with the olive oil in it, then added the veggies until just a few of them had a bit of color (to develop the flavor since this was going to be made quickly). While that cooked, I took the chicken off the bone, removed the skin and chopped it, then added it to the pot. After that I added the broth and then the seasonings. I brought everything up to a boil for about 10-15 minutes, turned off the heat, added the rice, put on the lid and let it sit while Nolan and I were at wrestling. I have a glass cooktop, so it retains heat for quite a while, especially when the pot stays on the same burner. By the time Travis got home at about 5:45 (about 45 min. after I left), the soup was great! All it took was a quick re-heat and we were ready for dinner as soon as showers were had.
Nolan was feeling better today so he went to school. My bout with whatever odd stomach bug we had started later in the day and I slept from about four yesterday afternoon until this morning when it was time to get the hooligans up. I spent most of the day with my stomach feeling better, but overall feeling totally wiped out. I didn't realize it, but I think I was dehydrated. Last night when I was feeling crappy I called Travis to ask him to either pick up dinner on the way home or pick up something he could make because I felt so horrible. He did. I don't know what he made, but no one complained. I was comatose.
I cleaned during the morning and when this afternoon rolled around I was dreading cooking. I knew I had to because I cashed in the only-good-once-monthly husband meal card last night. So, what did I do? I ran to WalMart. I knew with as bad as I felt I needed to make something that would be relatively easy on my stomach, but quick. Hmmm, soup! It was a double ringer because it was kind of cold today and we might get a little snow tonight.
Here is what I made...
Olive oil (enough to cover the bottom of the pot)
1 32 oz. bag of soup vegetables (the one I bought was potatoes, tomatoes, onions, celery, carrots, corn, green beans and okra)
1 store bought rotiserrie chicken with skin and bones removed, chopped into bite sized pieces
12 cups chicken broth (I used the boxed stuff, ran out of my own)
2 bay leaves
1 tsp. oregano (dried)
1 tsp. paprika
1 tsp. cumin
1 tsp. garlic powder
1/2 to 3/4 tsp. chicken bullion
salt and pepper to taste
1 cup instant rice
I heated up the pot with the olive oil in it, then added the veggies until just a few of them had a bit of color (to develop the flavor since this was going to be made quickly). While that cooked, I took the chicken off the bone, removed the skin and chopped it, then added it to the pot. After that I added the broth and then the seasonings. I brought everything up to a boil for about 10-15 minutes, turned off the heat, added the rice, put on the lid and let it sit while Nolan and I were at wrestling. I have a glass cooktop, so it retains heat for quite a while, especially when the pot stays on the same burner. By the time Travis got home at about 5:45 (about 45 min. after I left), the soup was great! All it took was a quick re-heat and we were ready for dinner as soon as showers were had.
Crapville Lane
Current mood: uncomfortable
Two Fridays ago I found a postcard in our mailbox stating that we had a certified letter at the post office. We would be able to pick it up at the post office the next morning at 9:00, but we couldn't because Nolan had the mother of all football tournaments. They started at the field at 10 and didn't end until after 6:30-ish. It was a long, tiresome, angry, windy day. I was so glad when it ended. And the whole time we watched the games, I wondered what that stupid certified letter was all about.
I went through my mental checklist. Credit cards- paid, house- paid, insurance- paid, phone- paid, cells- paid, cable- paid... After the full rundown, I deduced that someone we knew had died and left us money. Bummer on the dead thing, but the money would be nice, especially right before Christmas.
Monday morning I got the kids to school, went to the gym, went for groceries and hit the post office on the trip back home. I stood in line behind the guy from FirstLight Federal Credit Union and his enormous bin of mail and his 491 certified and registered letters, each of which required a signature, the lady in scrubs who had to harp on the post office lady behind the signature counter for five and a half minutes about having to wait behind the guy from FirstLight Federal Credit Union, and then it was finally my turn.
Our letter was from the city of El Paso Environmental Services Code Compliance Department. Upon reading said certified letter I learned that our house was in violation of the things listed on lines three and five. Apparently, we had an accumulation of weeds, trash and debris around both sides of our house, the front of our house, and the back of our house (which borders a busy road). Heh? I called them. I asked them what exactly was wrong. He told me that he was sure he had the right house and that ours was in very bad shape. Now, if you know us, you know that is a joke. We are pretty picky about the outside of our house. That comes from living in military quarters for twelve years.
After I got pissed and finished talking to the guy and making an appointment with him to come out and tell us specifically waht the problems were, I went and walked around the house to find the problems. The only thing I found which was even remotely out of code was some grass growing around the gas meter. I stooped over to pick the grass and smelled gas. I went inside and decided later to call the gas company about the smell. When I called they freaked and connected me with their emergency services people who told me someone would be out within the hour.
They were. They guy dug up the side yard and put in a new meter and a new thing on the side and a new thingie on the other side. He had to leave the hole there because the ground (under Nolan's room) was saturated with the natural gas and needed to aerate and because the other crew from the gas company would need to come out later (within 45 days) to put in place a new line from the street to the meter. The guy then asked if he could come in and turn on our heater and water heater for us. He looked at our heater and said it would start itself because it was an electric ignition heater. Then, he red-flagged our water heater and refused to light it. It was out of city code.
Heh? It was just installed eight weeks ago. When it was installed we had to put a new valve on it to bring it to city code. We only complained a little, but we did it because we had to. We would have complained a little more with other things we would have needed, but there was never any mention of them. Apparently we needed a drip pan under the water heater and our exhaust flue was non-compliant. OK, the flue, we kind of knew about. We had to call them out on that after the put the water heater in to fix it, which they said they couldn't understand how it could be an issue. Duh, they never did it in the first place.
Then, the gas guy came into the family room and looked at the wall heater and told us he wouldn't light it and wasn't going to report it because he would have had to shut off all the gas to the house because that wasn't in compliance either. It didn't have a shut-off valve and that is a big no-no. Holy crap.
Travis called the plumber who did the warranty work on the water heater and asked him to come out and fix the flue (again) and give us a quote on the drip pan. He asked them to come out that day. They put him off. They also never called the next day, like he said he would. So, not only does R&M Plumbing do crappy warranty work, they are liars who don't return phone calls either.
We called out another plumber whose ad said they specialize in wall heaters and gas lines. Ahh, someone who knew what they were talking about. We like Bennett Plumbing. Call them, they are nice. They gave us a quote to repair everything on the water heater, the new shut-off valve and the new wall heater we were going to need. Yes, that's right, new heater. Our bill at that point was roughly $1500.
The next day the plumber and another guy (presumably another plumber) came to remove the heater. They had all kinds of problems and they found more issues as well. Apparently the dumbasses who put the wall heater in connected it to the gas line with a 1/2 inch aluminum pipe. I guess that is a massive issue. Then, the dumbasses put the wall heater in place, they framed around it, then they put up the sheetrock on top of that. Of course, none of that was in code either.
New estimate- $1857
Now, tomorrow is the day the heater comes. It hasn't been that bad thus far without it. It was a little extra chilly yesterday, when Nolan and I were sick.
Yes, that's right. Sick on top of everything else.
So, if you were wondering why I hadn't blogged for a while- I've been otherwise occupied. And I've missed you.
Two Fridays ago I found a postcard in our mailbox stating that we had a certified letter at the post office. We would be able to pick it up at the post office the next morning at 9:00, but we couldn't because Nolan had the mother of all football tournaments. They started at the field at 10 and didn't end until after 6:30-ish. It was a long, tiresome, angry, windy day. I was so glad when it ended. And the whole time we watched the games, I wondered what that stupid certified letter was all about.
I went through my mental checklist. Credit cards- paid, house- paid, insurance- paid, phone- paid, cells- paid, cable- paid... After the full rundown, I deduced that someone we knew had died and left us money. Bummer on the dead thing, but the money would be nice, especially right before Christmas.
Monday morning I got the kids to school, went to the gym, went for groceries and hit the post office on the trip back home. I stood in line behind the guy from FirstLight Federal Credit Union and his enormous bin of mail and his 491 certified and registered letters, each of which required a signature, the lady in scrubs who had to harp on the post office lady behind the signature counter for five and a half minutes about having to wait behind the guy from FirstLight Federal Credit Union, and then it was finally my turn.
Our letter was from the city of El Paso Environmental Services Code Compliance Department. Upon reading said certified letter I learned that our house was in violation of the things listed on lines three and five. Apparently, we had an accumulation of weeds, trash and debris around both sides of our house, the front of our house, and the back of our house (which borders a busy road). Heh? I called them. I asked them what exactly was wrong. He told me that he was sure he had the right house and that ours was in very bad shape. Now, if you know us, you know that is a joke. We are pretty picky about the outside of our house. That comes from living in military quarters for twelve years.
After I got pissed and finished talking to the guy and making an appointment with him to come out and tell us specifically waht the problems were, I went and walked around the house to find the problems. The only thing I found which was even remotely out of code was some grass growing around the gas meter. I stooped over to pick the grass and smelled gas. I went inside and decided later to call the gas company about the smell. When I called they freaked and connected me with their emergency services people who told me someone would be out within the hour.
They were. They guy dug up the side yard and put in a new meter and a new thing on the side and a new thingie on the other side. He had to leave the hole there because the ground (under Nolan's room) was saturated with the natural gas and needed to aerate and because the other crew from the gas company would need to come out later (within 45 days) to put in place a new line from the street to the meter. The guy then asked if he could come in and turn on our heater and water heater for us. He looked at our heater and said it would start itself because it was an electric ignition heater. Then, he red-flagged our water heater and refused to light it. It was out of city code.
Heh? It was just installed eight weeks ago. When it was installed we had to put a new valve on it to bring it to city code. We only complained a little, but we did it because we had to. We would have complained a little more with other things we would have needed, but there was never any mention of them. Apparently we needed a drip pan under the water heater and our exhaust flue was non-compliant. OK, the flue, we kind of knew about. We had to call them out on that after the put the water heater in to fix it, which they said they couldn't understand how it could be an issue. Duh, they never did it in the first place.
Then, the gas guy came into the family room and looked at the wall heater and told us he wouldn't light it and wasn't going to report it because he would have had to shut off all the gas to the house because that wasn't in compliance either. It didn't have a shut-off valve and that is a big no-no. Holy crap.
Travis called the plumber who did the warranty work on the water heater and asked him to come out and fix the flue (again) and give us a quote on the drip pan. He asked them to come out that day. They put him off. They also never called the next day, like he said he would. So, not only does R&M Plumbing do crappy warranty work, they are liars who don't return phone calls either.
We called out another plumber whose ad said they specialize in wall heaters and gas lines. Ahh, someone who knew what they were talking about. We like Bennett Plumbing. Call them, they are nice. They gave us a quote to repair everything on the water heater, the new shut-off valve and the new wall heater we were going to need. Yes, that's right, new heater. Our bill at that point was roughly $1500.
The next day the plumber and another guy (presumably another plumber) came to remove the heater. They had all kinds of problems and they found more issues as well. Apparently the dumbasses who put the wall heater in connected it to the gas line with a 1/2 inch aluminum pipe. I guess that is a massive issue. Then, the dumbasses put the wall heater in place, they framed around it, then they put up the sheetrock on top of that. Of course, none of that was in code either.
New estimate- $1857
Now, tomorrow is the day the heater comes. It hasn't been that bad thus far without it. It was a little extra chilly yesterday, when Nolan and I were sick.
Yes, that's right. Sick on top of everything else.
So, if you were wondering why I hadn't blogged for a while- I've been otherwise occupied. And I've missed you.
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