When I Was A Young Warthoooog

Whatever you might think you know about the U.S. Military, I learned one thing for certain this weekend. They put on a good show. Trillions of dollars of military hardware is fun to watch, as long as it isn't pointed at you.

This weekend was the biennial Luke Day, where Luke throws open its gates to all comers and puts on an air show for anyone who wants to gawk.

I've seen air shows before. They were pretty cool for a seven-year-old. Would a three-year-old girl and a one-year-old boy like it?

What would I have to lose? It's free and close. Also, it would mean I wouldn't have to plan any other weekend activity all that weekend. Also, for certain deployed spouses, there was free food and a tent available. Who can say no to free food?

So I packed up the kids and walked down to the flight line. We saw many military aircraft flown by expert pilots. It satisfied the seven year old in me. Particularly the A-10 Warthog. This plane is designed to attack ground troops. It's big, but maneuverable. It delivers quite a punch (at the show, it fired only blanks, but they set off some pyrotechnics for show). It was also quiet.

The relative silence of this plane is what impressed me the most. I was expecting a plane that big to sound like a cross between an F-16 and an commercial jet. It didn't. You wouldn't hear the warthog coming at you until it was too late. I suppose that's what you want in a plane designed to attack ground troops. It was most unexpected.

The next act after the A-10 were supersonic jets of some kind. My daughter thought they were too loud. She insisted we go home.

We went home and watched the Lion King. I needed more of a warthog fix.

Floor Food

Parents will often tell you that they are more laid back with respect to the second child. I found that hard to believe, until the second child came along.

The first one's still here. How much harm could the second one really do to him or herself, anyway? The house is remains baby-proofed. The keys to the car are out of reach. What could go wrong? As an example of this new attitude, here's an anecdote:

With The Doctor away, a number of new resources become available here on base to help me through the separation of my family. Once a month, spouses of deployed family members are invited to a dinner with their children.

I wasn't expecting all that much, but it was a night where I didn't have to cook anything. My repertoire of easy meals for kids is running thin, anyway. So I packed up the kids and went.

The meal consisted of pizza, enchiladas and salad. There were plenty of people there ready to support me and my family. Overall, I felt welcome, which, I assume, was the point. I wish my kids were old enough to entertain themselves, so I could enjoy myself, too.

But was not to be. There were no high chairs there for my son, who had to sit on my lap the entire time. He pointed at what he wanted to eat. First, the crust off the pizza. Then pieces of the pizza. Then some salad. Then some more salad. Then he made me go back for even more salad. Then he dumped the new plate of salad all over the floor. Then he didn't want to be held anymore.

It was difficult to talk to other grown ups during this time.

But as he squirmed his way onto the floor, he retained his interest in the salad. He started picking up the leaves of lettuce and eating them off the floor.

I would never have let my daughter do this. But for the second child?

On the one hand, it is food off the floor. We're not at home, we're in a public building on the base. I have no idea how clean the floor might be.

On the other hand, the floor looks fairly clean. There aren't any roaches or mouse droppings that I can see. Furthermore, it's lettuce my son is devouring. I want to encourage him to eat his vegetables, right? The Doctor slathers greens in ranch to get the kids to eat vegetables, is eating them off the floor that much worse?

My son eats salad willingly. I put a check in the "win" column and move on.

One Brief Moment

I was led to believe that The Doctor had left, and that was that until September or October. Apparently I was misinformed.

The Doctor learned a bunch of new skills. She can now claim to know how to ride in a humvee, (an humvee?) how to spot IEDs and how to throw a grenade. She's really bad at that last one, by the way, which is why SHE IS NEVER ALLOWED TO DO THAT IN HER ENTIRE LIFE. I have informed The Doctor that if she would like to retain all of her toes, she should give the grenade to the next person. I believe she agreed. That helps me sleep.

But the training ended and the plane for parts unknown didn't leave for a week. Which gave her a weekend to do with as she pleased, as long as whatever she pleased also pleased the military. Coming home for a visit did not displease the military.

My daughter was thrilled to hear this news, and even seemed to digest that Mommy wasn't going to stay that long. Noah was also very happy, and expressed himself by biting and drooling on his sister.

For one weekend, my family was together again. It was right.

Then it was over. The Doctor was shipping out for parts unknown. Her waypoints on the journey there almost certainly become increasingly distant and inhospitable as she goes. The kids handled her departure quite well, considering. They said goodbye at the gate and that was that.

I'm the sad one.