A day in the life...

Lucy turned 1 a couple of weeks ago. I've been meaning to write about the experience. Actually that last sentence pretty much sums up the past 6 weeks of my life "I've been meaning to write about that". Oh well. Here is a day in the life of Lucy.

7ish in the morning:
Wake up (for the third or fourth time since going to sleep) and talk to the aquarium in the pack-n-play. When mom comes in excitedly dive into your blankets, then get up as quick as you can to show her how you can turn the light in the aquarium on and off. Ask to be picked up.

During diaper change lay perfectly still and babble angelically...until the diaper is completely off, then immediately flip over and make for the edge of the bed as quickly as possible. Stopping just short of falling to sit and flash mom a huge smile as you wait for her to pull you back to the blanket for a new diaper.

Play with mom's hair and hum while you gulp the liquid portion of breakfast as quickly as possible.

8ish in the morning:
Get out to the rest of the house and get excited about seeing anyone else who is home.

Head straight to the back door and BEG to be let outside (through pointing, clapping, grunting, and trying to reach the door handle)...you may even sign 'please', 'more', 'help', and blow kisses if REALLY desperate.

On a nice day go out on the back porch for second breakfast. Announce (non-verbally) that you want to sit in the stroller and eat off its tray.  Unless you decide you'd rather stand, in which case would mom please put your breakfast on the footrest of the stroller where you can reach it. Refuse to injest anything but cheerios, puffs, and pieces of wood or acorns.

Make mom smile by dancing to the sound of a bird singing. Watch the deer in the backyard.

Get in and out of your little red car. Several times. Want to be pushed in the little red car. Sing the whole time the car is moving...except when honking the horn, turning the key or pushing the lever.

Walk all over the porch. Practice sitting to go down steps. Go down all the steps you can find. Repeat (going up as necessary). Try to cross gravel barefoot. Decide that's not a good idea. Spread some gravel on the steps. Decide that doesn't look too good and quuickly brush it all off. Go find a big rock. Taste it. Bang it on the ground...take it to the chair and bang it on that. Throw it. See an ant. Try to squash it with your finger. Get taken away from the ants by mom. Scream about that.

10ish in the morning:
Go inside (with much wailing and writhing in protest) because after 2 hours mom is getting tired of playing on the back porch (a rather risky location requiring constant supervision).

Take some letters off the refrigerator and put them in the plant by the door. Go in the pantry and try to bite into the coffee containers. See the microwave (which is at eye level) and try to get the door open. Move some shoes around.

Protest when mom announces that it is naptime. Fuss half-heartedly all the way up the stairs  while rubbing eyes and burying face in blanket.

11ish: Fall asleep with hand tangled in mom's hair...or be put in bed to scream for a minute and a half...followed by half an hour of talking before keeling over unconscious.

12ish: Wake up and repeat morning diaper routine. Have lunch. If you are eating out make sure mom orders some form of soup and bread because those are your favorites and pretty much the only thing you will eat...besides puffs and cheerios.

1ish: Go to the park. Go down the slide a lot. Be nervous at first, but after 5 or 6 rides suddenly become very brave. Try to climb up the slide...for 10 minutes at a time (you are very determined) or until mom makes you stop.

Follow other children around and talk to them. Be doted on by 7 year old girls. Try to steal other toddlers' sippy cups and strollers. Charm other moms into sharing their child's puffs with you. Ride the dolphin. Ride the motorcycle. Ride the dolphin again. Chase birds without realizing you are walking/running without anyone's assistance. When you do realize it, immediately crouch down while you decide if it's worth the risk to keep chasing or if you should wave your arms for someone to come rescue you. It's usually more fun to keep going after the birds. Try to immitate all the bad behavior you see. Ignore your sippy cup and instead drink out of Gannan's HUGE cup and straw. Get mad when she finally takes it back. Refuse to wear a hat for more than 5 seconds.

3ish: Go home. Drink all 8 oz of the water in your sippy cup and eat a cracker on the way. Give a passionate speech to your reflection in the monkey-mirror. Fuss. Throw cup over side of carseat. Throw remains of cracker over side of carseat. Fuss. 

 Refuse to take an afternoon nap. After 45 minutes of screaming, fussing, talking, singing, talking, hollering, and playing get really excited when mom comes in exasperated. Play nicely with all the toys that make noise or can be shredded (like your own personal magazine). Bring mom books to read. Practice signing 'more' and turning pages. Identify curious George. Decide you are ready to go back outside to play on the back porch for a while. Repeat morning back porch routine until dinner time.

5ish: Realize you are STARVING to death but do NOT want ANYTHING solid. Or anything out of a cup. Unless it's a chocolate milkshake because you're pretty sure you tried one of those once and it was amazing. Except for the fact that it was cold.

6ish: Dinner. At the end of the prayer throw your hands up in the air for the 'Amen!'. Discover that you have hair on your head. Feel that for a few minutes. Smash all your food with your finger. If you can't poke a hole in it, it's not worth tasting. Want what's on everyone else's plate...until it touches your tray.

Drop foods you don't want over the side for the dog...except there is no dog. Eat some puffs and cheerios...and maybe a yogurt melt or two. Wave around a fork with a piece of melon on it. Slurp on the melon for a few minutes. Drop fork over the side. When the conversation gets boring squint your eyes at people and pretend to laugh. this usually makes them start laughing. Then they make faces at you. And funny noises.  Dinner is much more entertaining when they do that. Decide you have had enough of this and attempt to sweep the remaining food off your tray and onto the floor. Sign "finished". Get down and go on a scavenger hunt for lost food. Eat anything you find on the floor.

7ish: Bedtime. Want mom to be the one to hold you ALL day. Until she says it's bedtime. Then you want Da. Or Gannan. Or Bucket. Or anyone else who happens to be there and might be able to save you from Jammies. Fuss over getting ready for bed. You didn't have an afternoon nap after all. Fall asleep after nursing for 5 minutes.

8ish: Wake up because you are still hungry. Eat for another 20 minutes and go back to bed. Participate in some mild protest but give it up pretty quickly. Your blankets are nice and soft as it turns out.

0 Week

AF basic training is 8 1/2 weeks long. The first week is called 0 week. It's the shortest, but it may be the hardest - for both the trainees and the families they left behind.

First you get to watch them being sworn in, then you get to say goodbye. Jason didn't drag it out waving and stuff, just a hug and a kiss. As I walked toward the door I turned and saw him walking away toward the back of the building. I waved anyway and wondered where he was going...and if he had something to do or if he just didn't want to get emotional in front of us and everyone else.

Then came the drive home alone, with the baby asleep in the back, and the waiting...waiting for the phone call that tells you he made it, and the one that tells you where to send your letters. Two calls came that night. The first was from the airport saying he had arrived in San Antonio. The second was to say he was being processed and would call later with an address. It was 59 seconds long. He sounded a little rough but he had been up since 5:45am and it was now after 10pm. I prayed they would let him sleep soon. I struggled to stay awake until 1am (midnight his time) but no other calls came that night.

Although I kept a pen and paper in my pocket at all times and the phone practically glued to my hand the magic call with his address didn't come until late afternoon 2 days later. It hardly sounded like Jason - he didn't get to talk, only read a letter that started out "Hello, this is Trainee Adams calling with information on how to contact me. Please find a pen and paper quickly as my training instructor is not a patient man..." It ended with "Do Not Send Packages. Do not send packages. If you send a package my training instructor will be extremely unhappy. Do not send packages. Do not send packages. My training instructors are treating me very well. Love Jason" It sounded like a hostage letter.

I could imagine his TI standing inches from his face as he read. From the slight hesitation in his voice when I asked him to repeat things and when I tried to confirm I had it all down correctly I think he had been told to say nothing other than what was in his letter. I hope I didn't get him in trouble. My first letter was in the mail by 5:00 that evening.

Oddly, this phone call did not make me feel more relaxed. On the contrary it sparked about 4 days of extreme tension and a flood of emotions that I was not expecting. I was excited because he sounded like he was already turning into an airman - it was really happening...something we had been talking about for over a year. I felt guilty because he was there and probably miserable, and being yelled at and forced to run a lot and it was hot...and I wasn't. I was worried that he hated it and regretted the decision... I was filled with anticipation for the end of training-I couldn't wait to see what he'd be like when it was over...or what I'd be like. I was concerned about how his stomach was reacting to the food. I was sure he needed me so why wouldn't his TI let him have a real conversation?

I waited and prayed and never went ANYWHERE without my phone. I wanted the next call so I could actually talk to him and find out how he was REALLY doing. I thought it would come over the weekend. They are supposed to get one 15min. call a week and the last one should NOT have counted...but I guess it did because despite being on pins and needles all weekend - jumping at any electronic sound (or birds for that matter) - No call came.

I was tense. I had a headache. My emotions were so confused I felt like crying for no reason. I couldn't sleep. I decided I could not go through the next 8 weeks in this state. That wouldn't be any good to Jason and it certainly wasn't good for me or Lucy. So I take deep breaths. I write him letters. I sleep with my phone next to my bed. I tell myself he doesn't need to hear my voice as much as I think he does. Whenever I get too anxious I pray...or run.

Today is the first day of "Week 1". Phone calls or not, he made it through 0 week...Week 1 probably won't be much better but hopefully we'll get to talk at the end of it. At least I no longer feel like a spring wound too tight and about to snap. I'll be able to tell him about Lucy crawling, and standing, and falling, and missing him (not that I didn't already put it in a letter). I can ask him a million questions about how he is doing and what he thinks of everything. I can tell him again how proud I am to be his wife and that I know he will do amazing...even if it doesn't feel like it to him right now.

...At least, I will do all that if the next phone call really comes....and if he is really allowed to talk to me. If not, I won't fall apart...I'll just keep praying and running, taking care of Lucy, and other details of life outside of boot camp. After all, that's my job. Just like it's his job to focus on becoming the best airman he can be...without worrying about what's going on at home.

This is harder than I thought it would be.