Q&A

Time's up.  We moved here to Madison nearly three years ago so Greg could get his PhD in Systems and Industrial Engineering at the University of Wisconsin.  The Air Force gave Greg three years to do it, and then we would have to move on, whether or not he was finished.  So here we are ...

Did Greg finish?!

Yes!  Well, except for a few little loose ends that will be neatly tied up in the next few weeks.  Greg had his dissertation defense yesterday, and it went really well.  His committee was so excited about his research that they want him to broaden its applications.  This means rewriting a few pages in the introduction and conclusion.  So there's that and some paperwork to be turned in and then he will be Doctor!  Or Doctor Major?  Or Major Doctor? 

What was his dissertation about?

Nuclear power plant accident evacuations.  It's about a better way of deciding who should evacuate in the case of a radioactive release, particularly in a large-scale disaster like Fukushima.  It was a huge undertaking.  But worthwhile, and timely.  (He has already been out to the NRC a couple of times.)

Isn't three years pretty fast to get a PhD?

Yes. Five to seven years is probably more typical.  The Air Force only gives you three years though.  The advantage is that the Air Force is giving you your normal salary and benefits besides paying tuition.  This means you don't have to dedicate any time working as a research assistant or teaching or competing for grants and fellowships.  But three years is still fast.  It was especially fast for Greg.  Since his Master's is in Engineering Management, it didn't apply to his PhD program.  He essentially had to start over and squeeze a master's degree in there too.  There was a HUGE learning curve at the beginning.  Also, his dissertation required an enormous amount of work and didn't build off research he'd done previously.  

So how did he do it?

Greg is a smart guy.  And a very hard worker. Perhaps more importantly, he's efficient, organized, and he never procrastinates.  He created a plan, set deadlines, and then followed his plan, meeting each deadline.  

Greg was also extremely lucky to have an amazing adviser.  (A few years ago, back when Leah's husband Chris was finishing his PhD and Greg was thinking about getting his, they impressed on us the importance of Greg having a good adviser.  They were right!)  Greg's adviser is super smart and super experienced and super well-respected.  She knows how to crank students through the system.  Greg was in such good hands.  I cannot adequately express my gratitude for her.  

Most of all, though, this has simply been a miracle.  A real, true, undeniable miracle.  When I look at what Greg has accomplished on top of everything else we have had going on in our lives, there is only one possible explanation:  God.

What is Greg going to do in the Air Force next?

Greg is going to teach at the Air Force Institute of Technology, which is the Air Force's graduate school.

So you're moving to Colorado Springs?!

No.  The Air Force Academy is in Colorado Springs, and that's only for undergrads.  AFIT is only for graduate students, and it's in Dayton, Ohio at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base.  Greg will teach at AFIT for about three years, and then he'll receive a different assignment ... and we'll pick up and move again. (He will be well-positioned to teach at the Academy, but he is much more interested in doing other things.)

So you're moving back to Dayton?

Not quite.  Greg will be working in Dayton.  But we decided to live in the north-eastern suburbs of Cincinnati instead.  I will write more about how we came to this decision another time.  Long story short is that we are going to live close to Greg's brother and family.  Greg will have an hour-long commute.  But he won't work long hours, and he doesn't have to go up to campus if he doesn't have class or office hours.

When are you moving?

We close on our house here on July 26, and we close on the house in Ohio on July 29.  More about the houses another time.  Suffice it to say that the PhD isn't the only miracle in our lives.

Wait.  Wasn't Mary registered at a Montessori school in Dayton?

Yes.  Despite a long wait list, they had even created an opening just for her because of the quality of program she was coming from.  But that was when we still assumed we would be living in the Dayton area.  (It took a while to realize where we really should live.)  So we withdrew her registration.  (Which is okay because I had mixed feeling about the school.)  Fortunately, we found a wonderful, marvelous Montessori school near the house in Cincinnati.  But after many many tears, I decided Mary is going to go to school with David next year.  

Are you excited to move?

Madison is a wonderful place to live.  We have a good life here.  So of course we are very sad to leave.  But it doesn't really matter.  Fortunately, there are things I look forward to in Ohio, like being near family, seeing old friends, and living in a great community.  

What will you miss the most?

Don't get me started!  The long autumns, the gourmet chocolates behind our house, the history (and diversity) of European immigrants, fresh cheese curds, the University, Door County, our house, great health care, fun beautiful places to visit, ice fishing (well, the idea of it--not that I ever went), downtown, caring about football, the farmers' markets and CSAs, the small dairy farms, Larry Meiller, Sprecher soda.  People.   I will miss people.  That is always the hardest part, isn't is?

But my very very favorite thing from Wisconsin is Sara.

And she gets to come with us!

Party!

Party notes:

1. No, I did not take pictures during the festivities.  (That would make too much sense!)  So no pictures of our guests.  But we are extremely grateful to everyone who came to celebrate with us!  We are very blessed to know so many wonderful and supportive people here.  
2. We scored when the contractor who's been working on our house offered to let us borrow his nacho cheese machine.  What a hit!  
3. I can't believe I'm saying this:  Hooray for Martha Stewart!  Love the font on this clip art.
4. A few hours before the party, Greg and I realized that no one here really has any clue about Air Force life or what he does in the "real world."  So at the last minute I threw together a collage of some pictures of Greg at different stages of his Air Force career so far.  It was especially fun for our kids to see the pictures.  
5. Adding peanut butter to Nutella is tragic.  Then there is no point to the Nutella.  It will taste like peanut butter.  Not Nutella.   I learned this the hard  way.  (I do not recommend any recipe that calls for combining Nutella with peanut butter.)  
6. Shannon hooked me up with a recipe for lemonade rice crispy treats.  (I think it's this one--but you have to include the white chocolate!  And I always add more than the measly 3 Tbs of butter called for in rice crispy treats these days.)  Very good!  My favorite of the evening--beating out the cake batter ones and even the delicious s'mores version.  (Also, a big thank you to Shannon for, at the last minute, making multiple batches of rice crispy treats.)
7. Favorite comment of the evening:  "Oh, so you're only 3 steps from a general!"  (While this is technically true, our military friends will understand why it's funny.)
8. Can you buy Sprecher soda outside of Wisconsin?  If not, I feel very sad for ya'll who don't get to live here...and drink the best root beer/grape soda/ginger ale/cream soda/cherry cola/orange soda on the planet.  Very sad for you, indeed.

Congratulations, Major!

P.S.  If you're anything like I was about military rank (clueless), go here.

Grouchy

Yesterday I went to the DMV.  I thought I would be responsible and get a Wisconsin driver's license, since I've lived here almost a year and a half and everything.  Plus, my old Ohio one is expired (remember that?).

When I looked at the DMV website to find out what I needed to get a driver's license, I learned that I needed only proof of residency and an out-of-state license that was no more than 8 years expired.  So, actually, I still had 7 years and 293 days to procrastinate until I was really in trouble.  But I was feeling all responsible, so I skipped the gym and headed straight to the DMV.

I've lived in enough states to know that when you go to a new DMV, it's like a box of chocolates.  You never know what you're going to get.  Except that you do know you're not going to get chocolate, which is a bummer.  At this DMV the cherry cordial in my chocolate was that I needed my passport or birth certificate.  Never mind the fact it wasn't mentioned on the website (that I could see).  I drove the 20 minutes home to retrieve my passport (I was not going to give up on being responsible!) and the 20 minutes back to the DMV, all the while trying not to think about how concerned everyone was about where I was born and what my citizenship status was and how little anyone cared if I could actually operate a car safely.

(Now is where I point out that I have never taken a driving test.  I got my first driver's license in Arizona, which required driver's ed OR a driving test.  Not both.  So I took driver's ed, obviously.  I sometimes wonder what the good folks in California, Delaware, Ohio, and now Wisconsin might think about my qualifications for their fine states' issuing me a driver's license based solely on the couple of hours I spent in a teal Pontiac one summer with Deanna and poor Mr. Edwards, whom we tortured relentlessly with our silly giddy fifteen-year-old-ness.)

 When I returned, passport in hand, to the Madison DMV, no body bothered to look at my passport.  Sure, they noticed I had it with me.  But no one bothered to look and see that it was actually mine.  I could have brought Baby David's expired one.

Anyway, my whole point is that the DMV made me grouchy.

And I never let the DMV make me grouchy!  What was wrong with me?!  The employees were perfectly warm and polite, and, except for the passport thing, everything went quite smoothly.  Why did the DMV make me grouchy?  Because I sure spent the rest of the day feeling grumpier and grumpier, until I finally burst into tears after dinner.

I was concerned.

I simply do not let bureaucracy make me grouchy.  I am a military wife.  I have lived in Turkey (the Ottoman Empire pretty much invented red tape).  I have lived in Turkey as a military wife on a Turkish military base.  (That is a triple whammy.)  I have transferred credits from one university to another. (Cringe.)   I have a son who has been on the no-fly list since he was a baby.  I have traveled between countries that don't recognize each other with stacks of papers to get my family in and out.  In the Dominican Republic I negotiated through the twists and turns of a barely-functioning bureaucracy in order to help legally marry people who did not legally exist, all in a language I barely understood.  Also, Tricare is an integral part of my life.  (Shiver.)

A little DMV can't scare me.

I do not let bureaucracy control my emotions.  I may roll my eyes, laugh, or sigh with frustration.  But it does not get inside me, it does not upset me.  (I choose to freak out about other things, like Excel spreadsheets and my kids rolling around on the floors of eating establishments.)  So, naturally, my post-DMV grouchiness made me think maybe I'd lost my edge.  That I was getting soft.

Then last night I collapsed.

I was sick!  The cold I'd been fighting off all week, successfully I had thought, was back with a vengeance.  No wonder I was so grouchy.  I felt like garbage. I was grumpy because I was ill. It was a relief, in a way.  The DMV had not conquered me!

But the common cold has . . . Yuck.



P.S.  I cannot talk today.  I have no voice.  This definitely makes me grouchy.  But my kids love it.

P.P.S.  My parents are in Switzerland.  This does not make me grouchy.  But it does make me a little envious.

P.P.P.S.  I didn't shed a tear giving up my Ohio license, unlike what I predicted.  Because I didn't have to give it up. They just punched a hole in it and handed it back to me.  Easy peasy.  Is that too much to ask, you meanie states who insist on emotionally scarring those of us who NEED to hang on to our old licenses???  (That's right, I'm talking to you, California, Delaware, and Ohio.  Tisk, tisk.)

Really really big bowls

Yesterday had was a very busy day.  At one point, I realized I had forgotten to pick up the really really big bowls from the church kitchen.  I was almost home after a hectic morning of errands, so I hesitated, but then decided to turn around and retrieve them.  

I got pulled over.  It was an interesting conversation.  I live in Wisconsin.  My car is registered in Texas.  And my driver's license is from Ohio.  That's what happens when you're in the military. So it's all a bit confusing, but kosher.  Except for the fact that my driver's license was expired.  Oops.

The officer was very pleasant, and he only cited me for 10 over the speed limit.  (I will not tell you how fast I was actually going.  But in my defense, the road is brand new and I had no clue what the speed limit was and no human being born since the advent of the automobile would ever assume that such a wide, expansive road through the countryside has a limit of only 35 miles per hour!)  So borrowing those really really big bowls from the church kitchen cost me $88.

And it was totally worth it.  When you need really really big bowls, you need really really big bowls.  

Thirty potato casseroles were assembled in my kitchen and sent out the door for delivery in less than two hours.  Like I said, sometimes you need really really big bowls. 

And lots of helpful friends.

Thank you! 

Thoughts for today

As promised, I am temporarily emerging from my blogging hibernation in honor of Mother's Day.  Expect an explosion of posts (which began last night), and then I am returning to my disorganized closets until Memorial Day.

This afternoon I find myself reflecting on my children.  It seems appropriate: I am a mother because of them.

***

First, Mary.

My daughter.

She is complicated, often a mystery.  Mary is intensely self-aware, and her heart is very tender.  So she has already become adept at building walls to protect her tender soul.  Walls of defiance, walls of screaming or silence, of tears or hysterical laughter.  Walls of apathy or bossing.  Walls of fake giggles and outrageous goofiness.  Walls of perfection and accomplishment. Walls of strict obedience or walls of flagrant disobedience. This makes her complex, and these layers of protection leave me baffled.  She often hides her true feelings, even from herself.  Sometimes I don't know if I am up against one of her walls--or if I am seeing straight into her heart.  I am ever losing my footing, lost in the maze of her protective fortress.  Unsure if I should simply bash it down--because those walls are part of her too--or help make it stronger.

But Mary is not a complete mystery.  I know with certainty that she loves life, that she is eager to learn.  She ever strives for more, and she does not settle.  She is both tender and strong.  I know that Mary is smart.  Her mind is bright and sharp.  I know that her nature is joyful.  And her spirit is wise.  I know that Mary is an amazing human being and a beloved daughter of God.

After she was born, I was a mess.  But still I found quiet moments alone with her.  I would rock her for what seemed like hours and stare into her beautiful, sleeping face.  God would speak to my spirit in these peaceful moments, and I knew my daughter was someone special, someone exceptional.  What a privilege to be her mother.

She sends my heart soaring, and my soul is not complete without her.

***

Next, David.

My little boy, who is not so little.

He is growing, and he is changing...in unexpected ways.  As a toddler and a preschooler, David was a master of coping, of letting things go.  His high energy and impulsive behavior often hid the fact that at his core he was an easy-going little guy.  But no more.  He is sensitive, quick to anger, quick to cry.  He ruminates and broods, he blames and whines.  I suspect that this is part of his process of growing up, of learning to find his way in the world, of maturing.  It's just happening faster than I can keep up with.

With David's deepened sensitivity has come a growing spiritual maturity and a strong desire to do what's right.    He has become more consciously aware of God's love for him, and he is eager to learn of God's plan.  He is thoughtful, happily declaring at Easter time that Judas is really a good guy, explaining it this way:  "Jesus wanted us all to be Resurrected, so He needed to be Resurrected first, so Jesus wanted to die because He had to die, so really he wanted the bad buys to find him, so Judas did a good thing by telling the bad guys where He was. We don't have to say that Judas made a bad choice!"  (What do you say to that?)  David is eager to see the good in everyone.

David is becoming more aware of good and bad, and he is increasingly concerned about making good choices.  He is also realizing that it can be hard to choose the right sometimes.  But he does a pretty good job of it.  I can see in him such goodness.  I am so proud of him.

 I am also happy that he still wants to hold my hand in the parking lot.  And cuddle with me on the couch.

Just when I thought I had him figured out, he grew up.  And I feel like I am starting over, that I am just as lost and overwhelmed as the day we came home from the hospital.  But I knew that day I loved him.  And today I love him even more.  David may have his ups and downs, but my love grows exponentially.

***

When I started this post, I was going to say, "I want to write about the people who made me a mother."  But technically it was Greg who made me a mother, if you know what I mean.  So I'm going to write about him too, my partner in parenting.

I married a very good man.

A while ago I promised you a story about Greg and the Word of Wisdom.  Here it is.

When Greg was but a wee 2nd Lieutenant (read here to see how wee a 2nd Lieutenant is), he was deployed to a super secret location in Jordan.  (The super secret part isn't all that pertinent to the story, but it sounds kind of cool.)  One afternoon he was invited to a meeting with an important officer in the Jordanian Air Force.  Not only was this guy a colonel (if you didn't already, see here), he was also the commander of the base where Greg and his American pals were about to embark on implementing some pretty major plans.  The commander, in a gesture of hospitality, offered Greg some tea.  Problem.  As members of the Church of Jesus  Christ of Latter-day Saints, we don't drink tea.  (Please don't ask me to explain why--just go with it.)  Here is the moment of truth.  Does Greg politely decline the tea and risk offending the colonel?  A man in a position of power, a man who could make Greg's life complicated and miserable?  Does he risk offending the commander of the base where the Americans' presence is secret and tenuous but necessary for upcoming missions?  Or does Greg politely accept the tea...because, really, what's a few sips of tea?  As Greg tells the story, a thousand thoughts were rushing through his mind in that moment.  But then he saw clearly.  He politely declined the tea, explaining that it was forbidden by his religious code of health.  The commander inquired as to what religion, and Greg told him he was Mormon.  The commander's face lit up, and he said, "Oh!  I know about Mormons!  You are much like us.  We, too, have a law of health.  We, too, try to live modestly.  And, like you, family is very important to us.  Mormons and Muslims have many similarities."  Greg breathed a sigh of relief.  He knew he had won the man's respect, and, more importantly, Greg had not compromised his beliefs.  The moral of the story is to be true.  Be true to your beliefs, whatever they are.

The other moral of the story is that I married a good man.

Not surprisingly, this good man is also a very good father.  I would not want to raise children with anyone else.

Here is a picture of that good man of mine, moments after he made the jump from 2nd Lieutenant to 1st Lieutenant.  (Who is that lady with him???)

Yup.  The father of my children.

I wouldn't want it any other way.

***

Thank you, Greg, for our beautiful children.

And a lovely Mother's Day.

Officers

Greg flew to Utah this weekend to commission his brother Daniel.  They are now both officers in the U.S. Air Force.  Daniel will be attending medical school in Houston this fall.  

Looking at this picture sent to me from Greg's dad (who is a retired Air Force officer) reminded me of the happy news that I mentioned earlier that Greg has been chosen to be promoted to the rank of major.  And that reminded me of our first years of marriage when I didn't even know what a major was.  For years, our conversations would be peppered with my questions like "Now, is a major higher or lower than a captain?" and "What comes first, being a Lieutenant Colonel or a regular Colonel?"

So, for those of you who do not spend your spare time memorizing military terms, I offer you this list for your reference.  The ranks are in ascending order.

The first three ranks in the Air Force (and Army and the Marines) are the company grade officers:

2nd Lieutenant
1st Lieutenant
Captain

Then you become a field grade officer:

Major
Lieutenant Colonel
Colonel

Next are the general officers (which I had to look up because it's out of my realm of experience):

Brigadier General (one star)
Major General (two stars)
Lieutenant General (three stars)
General (four stars)

For some perspective, you spend about 2 years as a 2nd lieutenant, two years as a 1st lieutenant, and about six years as a captain.  Because you spend so long as a captain, there is a distinction between junior captains and senior captains.  Most people make it to Lt. Colonel by retirement, but to be promoted to "full bird" Colonel (or beyond) you have to be sprinkled with fairy dust.

I don't know what the deal with "company grade," "field grade," and "general officers" is.  I assume it comes from the army and has to do with where on (or off) the battlefield you serve.  In my own personal experience, it determines what kind of house you get to live in.

When Greg and I were first married and moved to Dover, I believed all members of the Air Force were officers.  I did not understand the concept of enlistment.  That just shows how clueless about basic military matters I was.  But now I've been around long enough that I even know all that enlisted ranks. (But I will save that for another day.)

Now you can celebrate Easter knowing that a Colonel intimidates the jelly beans out of a 2nd Lieutenant.

Thirteen on Thursday

What can I say?

Well, I'm not speechless.  In fact, I have thirteen things to say.


#1---Gender Preference

David and I were looking at his baby book this week.  After I explained to him how he was born, he exclaimed, "I'm glad I'm a boy!"




#2---Happy Anniversary

Our ninth anniversary was on Monday.  This is how Greg celebrated:

Yup, he's doing it  again, coaching kindergarten soccer.  What a good man.

(Last year we were in Honduras on our anniversary.)


#3---Soccer Star

David kicked the ball during soccer practice.  I have proof.

Or at least he kicked.  Whether or not he kicked the ball, I cannot recall.



#4---Movie Night

Just in case watching him coach soccer wasn't enough, Greg treated me to tulips on our anniversary.  He also took me to see Jane Eyre at the fancy pants movie theatre in town.  It was very good.  (Greg thought so too.)  Go see it.  Then you don't have to read the book.  (Unless you want to, of course.)




#5---Silliness

When asked how she got so silly, Mary responded, "Daddy!"  I doubted her, and pointed out that Daddy is the least silly one in the family.  She explained that she took all of Daddy's silliness.  Ah, that explains so much.




#6---Cheep!  Cheep!

The chicks are hatching!  The chick are hatching!  David's classroom has chicken eggs in an incubator, and yesterday they started to hatch.  We are all very excited!  Really, I cannot explain how much happiness this has brought to David--and said happiness is very infectious.




#7---Majorly Awesome

Are you still with me?  I hope so, because I have super exciting news to share!  Greg was selected to be promoted to major!  Hooray!  The actual promotion won't take place for a few hundred years, but it's nice to know it's coming.  Also, he was in the top ten percent of all those selected for promotion!  (Which may or may not affect our moving right back to Ohio upon graduation.)



#9---Mean Spring

It snowed this week.

Twice.

I think I hate spring.  Give me mid-January any day--at least I know what to expect.



#10---Hunger Strike


Greg has gone to Utah to commission his baby brother as an officer in the Air Force.  Mary is not pleased, so she is refusing to eat.  At least there are fewer dishes and crumbs while he is gone.



#11---Pitter-pat


My heart skips a beat whenever David holds my hand.  (How much longer will he even want to hold my hand?  I treasure every moment when his hand is in mine.  I know the days are numbered.)  He is such a sweet boy.



#12---Primary Prayer


Mary gave her first prayer in Primary on Sunday.  She buried her head in her arms and you couldn't understand a word except "Amen."  But it was very sweet.  And she was very proud of herself.

#13---Hair stylist

I know I mentioned it once, but I think it warrants another mention:  Mary gave my mom a hair cut.  I'm sure it will get a third mention when I post about my mom's visit.  (Soon!)

That's it.  

Next up, Fourteen on Friday.  Just kidding!