Purple Up- Military Children
When I was growing up, I had to walk to school two miles, barefoot in the snow. No, just kidding. Fair warning: this is a “when I was growing up” story though.
When I was growing up in the 80’s/90’s there was no focus on the Military child or even the Military family. Soldiers were recognized for their bravery and sacrifice, maybe not as much as they are today, but they were recognized.
Over the past 14 years, the Global War on Terror (GWOT) has changed the tempo and duration of deployments. It’s not unusual for Soldiers to have 24 out of 28 months of deployment. This puts a toll on all of the family, but can be especially hard on children.
Young children might not remember their deployed parent. Re-integration can definitely be difficult if your baby/ toddler has no memory of you and shrieks whenever you come near them.
School age (grades K-5) kids might start showing signs of anxiety, as they don’t quite grasp the concept of deployments. The 3rd, 4th and 5th graders of this group might here stories from other friends or the media of the horrors of war and not know how to process them. “Is Mommy/Daddy going to die?” might become their main focus.
Middle school kids (grades 6-8) might start to challenge authority. They might not want to listen to the parent at home, or try to get away with more. When the deployed parent returns. they might not want to listen to them or argue “that’s not how we do it when you’re not here.”
High school kids usually challenge authority, but might also be struggling with their own thoughts, feelings and values about war. They might be considering joining the Military themselves. They might be hearing anti-war messages from teacher or friends and feel confused.
In the midst of all this, one or more parents are deploying and re-integrating. Kids are being shuffled from either a single parent household or a relative’s house, not having the full support of two parents. The spouse at home is also stressed with their new found “single parent” life. Even the Military spouse that’s weathered many deployments know the stressors that come with deployment and re-integration and work their hardest to make it easier on the kids and the deployed spouse.
Remember Military children this month and always. And remember those grown up Military children too.
The More Things Change..
I know it has been a while since I’ve written a blog. However, there is good news and good reason for my absence.
The book is complete, now I work on finding both an agent and a publisher. Fingers and toes are crossed!
I’ve been busy with a few charity events lately. The Walk to Defeat ALS took place on 28 March in our hometown, I was very pleased that my family (minus the little sis, who is now OCONUS) was able to participate. I also had some great friends and neighbors participating as well. As the committee chair of this event, I was VERY busy (gross understatement) for the month of March making sure things were coordinated. Food, volunteers, photographers, logistics of the actual walk, etc. You would never think of all the “behind the scenes” stuff that goes on at one of these events- even the small ones!
I was also able to participate in the 2nd annual All American Marathon and Mike to Mike (that’s Iron Mike) half marathon. No, don’t be daft! I didn’t run. I was a flag holder for the wear blue:run to remember non-profit org. (check them out if you haven’t, especially if you’re a runner, a gold star family, or just a supporter of the Military). Mom ran the half marathon and it was great to see her and cheer her on.
So, the title of this blog “the more things change…” I guess we could say they still say the same. My relationship with Dad has definitely gotten better over the past few years. However, I don’t think he will ever *love* my tattoos. Saying “my tattoos” makes me sound like I’m walking around with a full sleeve (I could only dream!). No, I’m walking around with three SMALL tattoos, all easily concealable. So I had to laugh a little when he saw the large FAKE tattoo on my arm for the Mike to Mike Marathon. All of the flag holders wear a “wear blue:run to remember” shirt when they partake in an event. Some go a step further and wear a wear blue hat, shorts. etc. I like to add one of their washable tattoos. It’s a little ritual I have. I have started to put it on my forearm and whether I’m running (read: walking) or holding a flag it keeps me mentally focused on what I’m doing.
Dad happened to get a smart phone the day before this Marathon event. He was having a hard time dealing with it. I volunteered to come up after the race and look at his phone, teach him how to text and answer the phone (yes, he was missing all calls and just calling people back from the land line). After a short tutorial (the man was a commo chief, he gets it!) he was ready to go. I even downloaded an app for him to chat with my sister while she’s on her mission.
All is going well until he sees my arm. “WHAT is on your arm?” he practically yelled at me, when he saw it. (I’m pretty sure the “I’m 35 and it’s my body” would not win in this case.) “Relax Dad, it’s fake! It was just for the run today!”
You could see the relief on his face. I guess I won’t tell him about the tattoo I’m thinking about getting when the book is published, in his honor. That can just be a surprise 🙂
PS- one of the photographers at the ALS event got a great candid shot of Dad with his arm around me. You can’t see our faces (it’s of the back of us, showing off our awesome ALS shirts). It makes me teary to look at it. It might be the best photo ever for our book, to help with his anonymity. I don’t want to post it yet, in case it does become an official photo, but it’s good. Trust me.
Dad’s 75th Birthday Extravaganza (and — I did a 5K and lived to tell about it!)
All of my friends and colleagues that are familiar with my Facebook habits (documenting my life, step by step via Facebook) always say “you’re so busy” or “you never sit still on the weekends!”. Looking at my Facebook, one would THINK that, but I will tell you what it actually is. I seem to have the (mis) fortune of always having 19 events happen on the same weekend. The rest of the month will be free and clear, but every birthday, baptism, class I need to take, party, etc. will happen on one weekend. So I look like a social butterfly as I flitter in and out of as many events as I can.
This leads me to Dad’s 75th Birthday. He turned 75 the day my mom, sister and I left for Disney World to particpate in the RunDisney events- Princess 5K for all of us, Princess Half Marathon for those 2 crazy people that enjoy running. Dad’s pre birthday family celebration was cancelled due to an ice storm, that left me without power for 16 hours. Let’s just say I was never so happy to go to Florida the next day.
After an insane 5 days of buses, running, freezing temperatures (we ran the Frozen 5K in Wear Blue:Run to Remember t-shirts— it was 30 degress in Lake Buena Vista that morning!), hot temperatures (a balmy 82 degrees just two days later) and large perfectly dressed rodents, it was back to Fayetteville for me and then two days until Dad’s party.
I did it- here’s proof! 
Dad’s 75th party was a blast. He had old Army buddies (that are mentioned in the book!) from his Korea days there. There was an open bar. We (my husband, sister and I) surprised him with a DIY photo booth, complete with props. It was great to see my Dad taking pictures with his former SGM in oversized sun glasses and cowboy hats!
There was a little negativity that I will choose not to focus on. Let’s just say some important people in my dad’s life did not attend. Whatever there reasons, I hope they understand what being at his 75th birthday would have meant to him.
Overall, it was so nice to see my Dad relaxed, enjoying himself with friends from olden days to friends that he met just last year. For those of you that know my Dad, there are no strangers to him. Just people he hasn’t met yet. I think that was perfectly illustrated at the party.
To be sappy and wrap it all up- thank you to my mom and little sis for getting me through that 5K with a decent time. While at Disney, we ate breakfast with Lilo and Stitch at the O’hana breakfast. They told us “O’hana means family and close friends.” I think that’s exactly what Dad’s party was- O’hana! Thank you for those that came, the smiles that are on his face in every picture mean the world to me!
I think this split picture sums up my last 2 weeks of February! Then it’s Garcias with mustaches!
Chris Kyle
I saw American Sniper two weeks ago. I’ve been too sick to blog, but I’ve been thinking a lot about the movie and I have been able to read all of the controversy on social media surrounding Chris Kyle. What’s real? What’s been embellished, exaggerated or just down right faked? Was Chris really a hero? Did he lie?
Allow me to add my opinion to this. I’m prefacing this by stating again, this is my opinion,
My first impression after watching the movie was that it was well done and that it showed the kind of person and warrior he was.
Then all of the controversy started with what might be real and what might not be. None of that changed the movie or my impression of Chris Kyle. The way I see it, if part of the movie, or the book, or the stories were embellished, they didn’t happen to Chris Kyle, but they happened to some SEAL, some sniper somewhere, sometime. I’m not trying to take anything away from Chris, because he obviously accomplished and sacrificed a lot. What I’m saying is- let’s not split hairs. Chris could be the embodiment of all of the Special Forces that leave their families behind, that sacrifice, that miss their children and spouses. Many have had their breakdowns, their struggles off and on the battlefield.
For those of you that are familiar with the 82nd Airborne, you know of Iron Mike- the statue of a paratrooper. I remember being a little kid and asking my parents “but who is Mike?” My parents explained that Iron Mike was every paratrooper, every Soldier that came through Bragg. In a way, I think that Chris Kyle’s American Sniper is the SEAL’s Iron Mike. It happened- to someone, somewhere.
Pro tip from an amateur
If it is 9 degrees Fahrenheit in North Carolina, where anything under 45 degrees makes people don parkas, gloves, muffs, 7 pairs of pants and 9 sweatshirts, you will probably drink a LOT of coffee to stay warm.
After about the 6th cup you will realize why you normally limit yourself to “2 or 3 a day”. You will want to run a marathon. (That will quickly pass unless you can find a 26 mile indoor course.) You will also not need to blink, and then your last few items and appendices and graphics and everything you’ve been putting off since early December will get to your editor a day before you promised them.
Your manuscript will be complete. All of it. You will wait on pins and needles for feedback from the editor, because you can’t sleep.
I hope it makes sense, Kathleen 🙂
Pro tip: When your deadline is approaching, caffeine is your friend!
Savannah with my sister
Had a great weekend with my little sister (stationed at Ft Stewart). We swapped some Army stories- my stories were Dad’s, mostly learned from my interviews for the book. She’s only been in a little over a year, but we laughed over some similarities – she and my dad have a propensity for leaving their weapons unaccounted for- a mistake you only make once.
I really enjoyed this weekend with my sister – it was the first time I saw her as an adult, and not just “my little sister”. Seeing her ACUs in her closet, her patrol cap on the counter- it’s still really hard to see her as in the Army, and not just “playing Army”. When this book gets published, I know she’ll read it wherever she’s stationed and hopefully gain a better understanding of my Dad, the way I have.
Editors are Editing!
So to my surprise, the editors are still talking to me 🙂
One said “this only needs light editing.” That made me happy- maybe I am a writer 😉
Now let’s address the whole idea of people taking your work (your baby?) and changing it. I knew it had to happen, that’s what the editing process is. I have experience with this- my technical editors have done a lot of changing and “fix this” or “you can’t say it that way”, but it’s still hard. I remember my first critical read when other authors told me to change the format. I was so enthralled with my “unique” format I didn’t want to change it at first, until I realized that their critiques were right— it was so “unique” it might be hard to read, hard to publish.
Do other writers feel this way, hard to give up their baby? Hard to hear the criticisms? My friend, a published author says “it’s your baby, it’s perfect! Of course you don’t want to change it.” She’s a published author so obviously she has gotten used to her babies being criticized. It’s still hard.
Feel free to comment about your babies and criticisms in the comments.
Thanksgiving, Kittens and Editing
This won’t be a blog about all of the things I’m thankful for, but I definitely could write one of those. I got to spend time with Dad- an activity I used to dread as a kid, and now relish. After watching a painful Cowboys loss, the day was over. I am currently house sitting for Mom and Dad. And their two new kittens. NEW KITTENS!!!!! How awesome is that? How distracting is that? Very distracting. Guess what, Writers? Playing with kittens is WAY more fun than editing. It’s even more fun than writing. (Hence the briefness of this blog post!) I did it anyway–I finished my edits! It’s ready to go, almost. I decided to add another chapter contrasting some treatment modalities (fancy way to say “different types of treatment”) for PTSD patients and moral injury. Military 101 section is still a work in progress too. Ok, back to the distraction twins- look at those cute faces!
PTSD and IKEA
Have you ever been to IKEA? It’s a large Swedish based store that is all over the world now. The first floor (at least the ones I’ve been to) you walk through is actually the 2nd floor. Meaning, you walk in on the ground level and are “forced” to take an elevator or escalator to the 2nd floor. A large cafeteria greets you, or you can turn away from the cafeteria, grab a large bag and handcart and start walking through the showroom. Living rooms, bedrooms, kitchens are displayed as far as the eye can see. They are so realistic looking in their setup, I’ve been tempted to try to bake something in the oven and take a nap on one of the large beds.
The main issue with IKEA is that once you are in the showroom, you have to keep going. Unlike a mall where you can go into one store, get what you want and leave, you HAVE TO KEEP GOING in IKEA. Sure, there are little shortcuts so that you can skip, say, the bedrooms, but once you are in, you are in that store. I love IKEA but I hate the trapped feeling. I’ve had a few panicky moments in IKEAs. So you can imagine my surprise when my Dad said he wanted to accompany me, my husband (both IKEA Vets) and my friend (IKEA Virgin) to IKEA this past Saturday. I went immediately into protective caregiver mode. “It’s REALLY big, Dad. You need to wear comfortable shoes.” I called the IKEA to see if they rented scooters. (FYI, they do not) They DO have wheelchairs you can borrow but I know my Dad. He’s not going to sit in a wheelchair. I tried to be as prepared as possible. I packed Tylenol, Advil, bottled water, snacks and a small handheld fan. We took two vehicles, Dad and my husband in the truck, and my friend and I in her car. The guys got there first (of course, girls have to stop and take coffee breaks, bathroom breaks, etc) and my husband informed me that Dad was comfortably eating IKEA’s $2.99 breakfast and drinking coffee. I could have predicted that. Dad loves breakfast, and he loves when they are cheap 🙂
We arrived as they were finishing up. I tried to ask in a non nagging, casual tone if Dad wanted me to grab a wheelchair. Of course, he refused. We slowly (because everyone in Charlotte was there, apparently) made our way through the showroom, our mission, to find the bed my husband and I wanted to buy. Obstacles were everywhere, darting children, people stopping in the narrow walkway to talk, people stopping in the walkway to look at an item (move!) but we made it. Dad was tired, I could tell. We examined the beds, decided on the right one and I offered that we could wait on the comfortable couches. I settled them in (Dad and friend) and ran to help my husband. I had my first panicky moment when I saw the chaos that was the “you pull it section”.
To call it “crazy crowded” would be an understatement. 45 minutes later, we had successfully pulled everything and were almost near the front of the checkout area. I called my friend for the 4th time and got a “dad update” (still sitting on the couch, reading an IKEA catalog, kept referring to IKEA as “a large maze” and getting “trapped in the maze”) and we made arrangements to all meet in the loading zone. My poor husband loaded 90% of the furniture into the back of Dad’s truck while my friend and I tried to help. We got Dad and my husband on their way, and then my friend and I headed back in IKEA to do our own shopping(spoiler alert: It was even more crowded, if that’s possible).
I did learn something from all of this, that I think can be applied to caregivers and family members of those with PTSD. Sometimes you just have to let your Veteran do things. I was prepared as I could be, and Dad handled IKEA like a champ. Your schedule might get re-adjusted a little- be prepared for that and be flexible.
I saw Dad Sunday night, and did sort of a check in. He really liked IKEA, but said he would only go again on a weekday, when it was less crowded (good luck) and again he referenced the maze, but said that I seemed to know “all of the shortcuts” so I could go back with him to help. I think this was overall, a positive experience. We could do it again.
Joanna Nunez, Author 
