The Morning Rush Hour

The Morning Rush Hour

No, I am not talking about, “the stuck in traffic kind of rush hour”; I am talking about, “the getting your kids ready for the bus kind of rush hour.”    As military moms we are often navigating the rush hour on our own and getting out of the house with little ones is always an unpredictable situation.  Even if my children pull my eye lids back at the crack of dawn, we are always running around at the last minute.   No matter how many times I yell, “we are going to miss the bus”, they don’t move any faster. 

The only one who sits back and enjoys all of this entertainment is our English bulldog, Sophie.  She gets up early with my husband, goes outside to do her business, eats her breakfast in peace and then snuggles back into her chair for her first, of many, morning naps.  I am so jealous.  Every morning she jumps onto her “Sophie chair”, which is an old wing chair that she chewed through both arms to the point of no repair.  After that incident, it officially became the “Sophie Chair”.  

 Every morning she hops in her chair and sits on her perch watching the tornado of children that spin past her.  She does not pester, beg or bark, she just observes.  She watches as the kids spill some milk out of their cups and cereal bowls.  She sees the oatmeal that is still dripping from the side of the bowl and the spoon with a last lick still intact.  She spies the kids leaving a trail of delicious looking toys that will soon become her latest chew toys.  She hears the crying, yelling, and screaming and doesn’t even flinch.  She sits calmly and patiently as this whirlwind of chaos takes place around her. 

At first, I was fooled.  I thought she was this sweet, docile dog that just didn’t want to get in the way. Let me tell you, dogs like that do not exist! 

As she lay there quietly, she was actually studying the situation, laying the ground work, and planning on where to strike first.  As the kids are loaded down with their back packs they run over to give her one final squeeze to the point you think her fat head will pop off.   In return, she douses them with big wet licks, which eventually makes them squeal and run away.  I give her a quick pet as I run out the door with coffee cup in hand and tell her, “please, be good. “ 

At this point, she is secretly giving me the “paw” and wishing we would just leave.  She has bigger plans. 

Then one day it happened.  I had to come back to the house after the bus stop, and I caught her “red pawed!”   I ran back inside to grab my purse and sweet little Sophie was not on her perch.  As I rounded the corner to the kitchen there she was – on top of the kitchen table!!  She was busy finishing off the oatmeal from the bowl and had already lapped up all the milk that was left in the cups.  There were bowls and cups on the floor, the placemats were scattered and the chairs were nowhere near the table.  The sad part is she didn’t even flinch, in fact she looked annoyed, as if I was interrupting her breakfast?!!  I yelled, “Sophie get down” and she still didn’t move.  I finally gave her a swat and off she plopped.  Bulldogs are not known for their grace or agility – or even for their speed.  The scattered trail of toys leading to the table were now missing arms, legs and had chewed up heads.  As she trotted away from the table she picked up one last star wars character to finish off his light saber.  “SOPHIE,” I yelled one last time!! 

Now in the mornings, when I see Sophie sitting like a queen on her chair, we have a stare down contest.  Who’s going to win today?  Am I going to get all the dishes picked up and the trail of toys put away or will the bulldog bulldoze through the remnants?   Only time will tell…

  “hurry up”, I yell,” we are going to miss the bus!!!”  JGP

Sisters by the Sea

Sisters by the Sea
When six military girlfriends met up from around the country at the Charlotte airport, the fun began and the laughter didn’t end.  We call ourselves the PRG’s – PAX River Girl’s, because we first met each other over seven years ago when we were all stationed in PAX River Maryland.  After we PCS’d to new duty stations around the world, we decided to meet up once a year for a mom’s get away.   This year we headed to the Turks and Caicos.

Our friend, Stacey literally started things off with a bang, when she dropped three new bottles of wine in the Duty Free shop at the airport.  The staff actually handed Stacey and her partner in crime, Amy, a mop and told them to clean it up.  The rest of us were a big help by laughing hysterically and snapping photos.  By the time we boarded the plane the entire International wing of the airport knew who we were.

We landed in the Turks and stood for awhile in the customs line and quickly caught up on the past year of each other’s lives.  Who moved, who is moving, who’s deployed, who is deploying, who’s child is now walking and talking.  You name it; we discussed it and talked in acronyms that only military wives understand.

Once we reached the resort, it was all unedited and unrated conversation with no topic off limit.  Upon our arrival we were greeted with cool fragrant towels and welcome punch, which is now Karen’s favorite drink of choice.   We instantly felt like celebrities and undeserving of the lavish accommodations, however we did not waste any time, threw on our suits and headed out to the pool. 

Our days were spent as a bunch of amoebas moving from one end of the pool to the other.  Our only exertion occurred when we walked about 20 feet up to the beach where the most translucent turquoise waters of Grace Bay welcomed us.  We huddled our lounge chairs in positions that were designed more for conversation than sunbathing.  We traded magazines, we ordered drinks with umbrellas and we fought over who got the last bite of the heavily salted greasy sweet potato fries.   

The evenings were spent at dinner under the stars, sand below our feet and feeling the soft island breezes.  Sounds romantic, however it was anything but romantic, for everyone sitting near us.   We are a bunch of moms unleashed from our children, husbands and the mundane duties of our everyday lives.  Therefore, the only sound in the air were the shrills of our laughter and the rattle of ice in our drinks.  We sounded like a bunch of cackling hens and we were proud of it. 

Every year we come away from our vacation renewed and refreshed.  We feel like we are better wives and moms when we return home to the craziness of our families.  We encourage, support and help each other with every stage of our military lives.  We laugh about old memories, cry on each other’s shoulder and talk about the future.   We dream about the day when we’re 60 and we are jet setting off to Europe together or meeting up at our children’s’ wedding. 

We lived like rock stars for a few days, but, unfortunately our escape came to an end and we returned home to our own reality show called, “life.”  So to my PRG’s, raise your fruity drink for a final toast –

“To the strongest women I know…your love, support and friendship is as constant as the waves that cradle the shores of the beach and you will always be my sisters by the sea.”  Until next year…. JGP  11/10

Military Family Consulting

Dog Training 101 - Take it or LEAVE IT

While my husband was away with the Navy, I adopted Sophie, a stubborn English bulldog with an irresistible face, full of funny expressions. Even though she was no longer a puppy, I decided to enroll her along with my children in "Dog Training 101" at the local pet store. What was I thinking...?

We were already ten minutes late when I slid into a parking spot and dragged the dog out of the car.  At the same time, I was yelling at my six year old daughter to slow down and grabbing the back of my three year old sons' shirt before he ran across the parking lot.  We quickly headed down to the glass enclosed arena, which I am convinced is located in the middle of the store just to humor the customers!  As we entered the arena, the dogs began jumping and barking up a storm.  All of a sudden the adult "owners" started yelling LEAVE IT!  LEAVE IT!  Leave what, I wondered?  My two children stood there stunned as our dog ran and hid under the nearest chair.  We had missed the first week, however I had a feeling it had something to do with shouting "LEAVE IT!" 

Tonight's lesson was about walking your dog properly on a leash.  Since we just adopted Sophie, our leash experience was limited.  Of course, both of my children wanted to walk the dog first, so as they battled it out, I tried to pull the dog out from under the chair. She hunkered down, and gave me that look of... "I am not moving!"  

 Just then, my three year old son, Griffin was complaining to everyone in the arena that he was hungry.  After I repeatedly told him he couldn't eat the dog treats, he rummaged through my purse and found a Ziploc full of Cheerios.  With a hard rip, the Cheerios went flying.  Six dogs almost ripped off their owners arm trying to leap over and eat them.   Griffin started shrieking, Lenny, the pet trainer, almost had a heart attack and yes - everyone was screaming LEAVE IT, including me. 

However, I was yelling at Griffin; who was on the floor eating the Cheerios faster than the dogs could reach them.   At that moment, my daughter Katie turned to me and said she had to go to the bathroom.  As we headed out to the restroom, my son made a run for the snack machine and I started shouting that I didn't have money.  Katie was freaking out that she had to go now "or else", and poor Sophie's head was about to pop off from yanking her down the aisle.  Griffin was hugging the snack machine and howling that I never feed him. Katie tried to open the bathroom door; which, of course, was jammed, and I begged Sophie to go into the bathroom with us.  I removed my sons' death grip from the machine, shoved the restroom door open with my hip and crammed all of us into the tiny stall.  I contemplated just going home.  However, this was "school" and I wanted to set a good example.  Ok, who am I kidding; my keys were still back in the arena and I had already paid in full, so we headed back.    

Lenny, the pet trainer, with his red megaphone in hand, announced that it was now our turn to demonstrate walking Sophie properly on the leash.  Griffin was crying hysterically, Katie was staring off into outer space and I dragged Sophie into the middle of the ring with her paws sliding under her like big clumsy ice skates.   I pulled, I pleaded and I even bribed, nothing worked.  She just laid there flashing another infamous look that said "this is it...

Take it or LEAVE IT!!"  One lesson down, seven to go! 

Jen Pilcher, Proud Military Spouse and Mom
militaryfamilyconsulting@gmail.com