Bittersweet

Not quite two weeks ago, after 19 long hours of travel, one episode of puking (weird, because I've never puked on a plane before, but whatever), and carrying one very crazy, little psychotic dog, I arrived rumpled and exhausted in Los Angeles.  My first memory of arriving back in the good old U.S.A.?  Standing in Customs with some old dude with a generic Euro accent saying "Zee should not allow such creeeetures as zat on board zee aeroplane!", pointing at my ridiculous pooch in my carry-on bag.  Jerk.

Surprisingly, all my flights went exactly as planned.  I fully attribute that to NOT fly UNITED AIRLINES or any of its codeshare flights.  Thank you Delta and KLM as it's codeshare.  My flights were AWESOME (except for the puking and the old mean dude), and all, yes folks! ALL of my luggage arrived with me in LAX.

BFF Iced Latte at LAX.  And my luggage.
You know, the important stuff!

I grabbed a BFF Latte at the airport Starbucks and hopped the Super Shuttle to a car dealership in Beverly Hills where I purchased - wait for it! - a really ugly minivan.  Momma has to have some wheels!  And while I'd prefer the luxury of a kick-ass beautiful SUV, I decided to take one for the family team and get the vehicle that will comfortably hold all the kids when we're reunited in August.  I'll live.

From there, I immediately drove to the closest In-and-Out Burger.  It's been three very long and painful years, and the reunion was glorious!  If you've ever eaten In-and-Out, then I know you understand.  And if you haven't, then I have nothing but condolences for you.  Get out to the West Coast NOW!

Now, this is where things get really crazy.  The day I arrived in Cali, I got word from the hospital I was supposed to start working at the following week that they wanted me to start the very next day if I was available.  Unfortunately, I hadn't yet been to my apartment and I needed to buy furniture, so I told them I couldn't start the next day, but that I'd be available to start the day after that.  TWO DAYS!

Ugly minivan.  But the BFF Latte approves.

So the next morning, I went to LabCorp for my work-required urine toxicology (I've done this test so many times for the military and every hospital I've ever worked for that I can honestly pee on command). And then I went to my new home.  After scouring through Craig's List the entire previous month, I had settled on living in downtown Long Beach.  The hospital I work for is just a little north of Long Beach, but I really wanted to be by the ocean.  I was super lucky and found a pet-friendly apartment building just two blocks from the ocean! With easy access to the freeway!  And it only costs double what our mortgage is in Ohio.  Dude.  Really. It's so easy to forget how expensive it is to live out here.  But, whatever.  It's perfect.  It's not awesome --- the building is a "charming 1920's" complex (translation - a little run-down) --- but it's in a cool location (Long Beach Arts District), with a Starbucks around the corner (BINGO!), and I have access to a parking garage for my mad minivan.  

I unpacked my bags in my apartment and headed out to the mecca of all home stores - Ikea.  I picked up the items I needed and then headed out to the other mecca, Target!, to grab a few items for my teeny tiny kitchen.  I went back and fixed up the apartment, took Starbuck for a much-deserved walk along the beach, and then crashed for the night.

Because the very next morning at 6AM I was in the ER working my first big-girl RN shift!   Oh, it's been a long, long time since I'd had to spend an entire day on my feet!  Initially I was to work 12 hours, but at the end of my shift, I offered to stay over since we were short-staffed.  I put in 16 hours that day and then went home.  Took the pup for a walk and then slept like I've never slept before.

YUMYUMYUMYUMYUMYUMYUM!!!

I worked the next two days.  Had a day off.  And then worked the next five days.  WOWSA!  It's been a whirlwind.  On the bright side, I never really got the chance to be jet-lagged, even though it's a 10-hour difference from Cairo.  Also, I can't even begin to express how wonderful it is being back in the same ER I worked in 2009-2010.  Most of the staff is still the same, and being here with friends I've missed has been incredible.

FaceTime has been absolutely the best.  Nearly every day I get to "see" the kiddos.  Both of the big kids have iPads, and they can reach me anytime they want.  It's very comforting.  Our middlest, Abby, has no real concept of the time difference between Cairo and here, and so nearly every morning at 5AM, when she's getting off the bus in Cairo at 3PM, she calls me.  I love it.  Even if I'm trying to sleep.  The toddler?  He blows me kisses and says "hi, Mamma!" and then runs off to play.  He's doing ok.  And Owen, the tween, he tries to act cool, but I know he's missing me and he likes that he can reach me anytime he wants.

It's really bittersweet being here. This was once our home - to all of us. Today I took the pup to the dog beach - the same beach that the fab hubby and I used to bring our dog Rusty to play at.  I cruised through Belmont Shore, remembering all the places we used to meet up for lunch.  And I've spent some time across the bridge in San Pedro where we used to live.  I visited old haunts, like the Tide Pools in San Pedro where the big kiddos spent countless hours looking for sea creatures while I sat and listened to the waves crashing on the rocks.  I ate lunch at our favorite chinese restaurant.  I shopped at the local Trader Joe's.  I was pregnant with Kellen here; I ran my 1/2 marathon in 2010 before I found out I was pregnant with him in Huntington Beach.  All these places have special meaning and I just wish all of us were here, together.

I ran along my favorite bike/run trail in Alamitos Beach today, and as I watched kids frolicking into the water and riding the waves, I tried not to let it break my heart.  My Abby and Owen used to do that.  No matter how cold the ocean water was, they'd run into the waves and ride them back to shore.  We spent so many weekends here.  It was our special place.

I know the next five-and-a-half months are going to be tough without them.  But I'll get through it.  Actually, all of us will.  And even though it's heartbreakingly bittersweet, I'm thankful to be in a place that I love with such good memories.  

Me and my favorite pooch, Starbuck.

The Fav Pooch and the BFF Latte.

Tide Pools of San Pedro.  The big kiddos used to play here.

Sunset over the Tide Pools.  Magnificent.

Little trip down memory lane.
San Pedro Tide Pools, New Years Day 2010.

With our dog Rusty.  We miss him.

Running Therapy

Sept 2009.  I had to dig this up from some old photos.
Rusty and me.  Long Beach, CA.
One of my favorite places to run.  And frolic.
Rusty always liked to do both, too.

Running.  It's one of my passions.  When Jason was home on leave, I was able to pound out some extra miles since I didn't have to run with the baby, increasing my distance in preparation for a 1/2 marathon I'd like to run in NoVA in August before our move to Cairo.  My fab in-laws are taking the kids so Jason and I can head out to D.C. together for a few days; he has some stuff to do for State; I'm just tagging along for fun and a run.  Of course, anything that justifies a nice little 4-day weekend away from home with the hubby (NO KIDS) is a great excuse.  We haven't had a vacation alone in years.

But once Jason returned back to Iraq in early-June, I found myself trudging along, just trying to get through the days.  It's been hard; the kids are out of school; I'm working a few more hours in the ER; somehow I'm buried in laundry no matter what I do; Owen has baseball nearly EVERY.BLEEPING.NIGHT.  (But I admit - I love watching him play, and I'm so very proud of him!)

I can overcome all of this; I've done it before.  But the biggest heartache for me is missing our dog, Rusty.

What I've never mentioned is that my last long run (8-miles) was the run I received the call that Rusty had been hit by a car.  I was 7 miles into the run, and more than a mile away from my car. I was high on endorphins and really enjoying my stride, only having had to walk a small bit of it.  Then the call came in on my iPhone.  I had to run as fast as I could to get back to my car.  And I couldn't do it.  I had to walk part of it, and I hated myself for not having the strength to get home to my family, to be there to comfort the kids, to get to the vet with Rusty faster.  It was the longest mile of my life.  My heart aches whenever I think about it.

I didn't run or work out once the entire week after Jason left.  I kept telling myself I was too busy.  Too much going on.  Not enough time.

And I realized I was just making excuses so I could avoid running.  I was trying to forget that moment when I was running and the call came.  Of saying "Hey, honey, what's up?" and Jason telling me I needed to get home as fast as I could.  Oh, awfulness.  If I ran, would I keep reliving that moment?

My mom came over this week for a few days and stayed with me and the kids.  It was nice outside and I could feel the pull, the lure of the pavement.  My feet were aching to move.  I wanted to put on my headphones and stretch out my stride.  Feel the sun on my shoulders.  I laced up my sneakers and told mom I'd been back in about an hour.  That's what it took; I allowed myself that hour to work out my feelings.

Because sometimes you have to look heartache in the face and acknowledge it and accept it. I couldn't avoid it any more.  I hurt; the thoughts tumbled through my mind...Jason had to leave the next AM on a plane back to Baghdad.  Our family didn't get to heal together.   I hurt whenever I think about how the kids reacted when we told them Rusty died.  I hurt whenever I accidentally call our new puppy (Starbuck) "Rusty."  I feel guilty that I love the new puppy so much and that I love her so easily.  I miss my husband terribly, and we've only got a few weeks to go, but the days drag by so slowly at times.  I don't feel strong all the time; sometimes not at all.  And it just hurts.  All these feelings; they washed over me on that run.  But it was so much better than trying to feel numb like I had the preceding week.  I always tell the kids it's not good to bottle up feelings; why do I so easily allow myself to avoid my own thoughts?

I finished five miles that afternoon.  I don't remember it being difficult or easy; I just remember feeling that I had worked out some things in my mind; I remember feeling good.  The next day I laced up the sneakers again, and this time it wasn't so melancholy.  I hit a fast stride and pounded out a quick three miles.  I took some photos along the way, and enjoyed the trail.  I suppose running for me is the best kind of therapy.  I can use it to work out my feelings or my thoughts; I use it to celebrate, or to mourn.  Sometimes I just run to enjoy the run.  Just me, my music, my sneakers, and my thoughts.

Millcreek Park, somewhere between
1/2 and 1 mile into my 3-mile run.

The most inviting trail.

Beautiful running trail.

Almost to the end.

After I finished my 3 miles.
Awesome feeling.

A Bittersweet Beginning

There's nothing like little puppy teeth with little puppy breath and little puppy fur.  Last week we welcomed a new little toy fox terrier to our home, and proudly named her "Starbuck." She is smart, and sweet, and cuddly, and sassy, and playful - aren't all puppies? - and absolutely loved by our children.  And I have to admit, I love her too.

I was worried about announcing her arrival on the blog or even on facebook, for fear that someone would judge us for adopting a new puppy so soon after the painful loss of our beloved chihuahua, Rusty.  But who can fairly judge someone's heartache and pain?  I suppose I even felt a little guilty loving this little girl so easily, when there is still that ache left from loss.  But she is a perfect fit for our family.

Jason and I talked about waiting to adopt a dog - we thought time might heal a broken heart.  Jason is due back home in late-July and that is when we anticipated beginning a search for a dog in earnest.  But when we reviewed the requirement for dogs to enter into Egypt, we realized there wouldn't be enough time to get the shots needed to travel with a pup to Cairo in September.  We decided we wanted a puppy, even given the time constraints, so we began a puppy search early last week.

I found a litter of toy fox terriers listed in Akron - about 40 minutes from our home in Ohio.  The owner sent photos and I forwarded them to Jason.  Jason actually did the legwork of researching the breed - small enough to travel foreign service style (in-cabin carry-on!), great with kids, not too small (she'll get to be about 6-8 lbs).  When I saw the puppies, I was overwhelmed!  But Jason, despite being 11,000 miles or whatever the obscene distance it is to Baghdad was ready at his phone and computer.  I took pics of the pups and sent them to him.  I watched their behavior and interactions.

One stood out among all the rest.  This sweet little girl kept jumping up and climbing on top of the litter to get out of their pack-in-play.  She'd follow me around outside and was observant of everything around her.  I snapped lots of photos and gave Jason a play-by-play of her actions.  Yes, folks; you can indeed pick out a family together pet despite distance.  Jason and I decided on her.  The name "Starbuck" fit her perfectly.  Jason and I have such fond memories of meeting up at Starbucks over the past few years.  And since I love to keep a photo blog and keep a record of my Starbuck's lattes' journeys, well, it just fit.

We've now had her for nearly a week.  She's learning to potty-train litter-box style (Jason read about this and recommended it since we'll be limited on green space in Cairo); has successfully learned how to avoid our ancient cranky cat; and equally plays and chases all the kids.  Even Kellen adores her and she adores him.  Actually, I'd say she adores Kellen the most (but don't tell our other kids).  At night she snuggles up with Owen for a few hours while I finish up the house stuff after the kiddos have gone to bed.  Then she has a little snack, takes a potty break and climbs into bed with me for the night.  She helps me with the late-night loneliness when the kids are sleeping and I'm trying to unwind my head and get to sleep.  I'm overpowered by her fuzziness.  I have to pet and love her.  She nuzzles up under my chin or just behind my head.  Such a little lovebug.  In fact, as I sit her writing this she is snuggled up on my lab taking a much-needed puppy nap (after spending a hour attacking my feet and toes).

My only true regret is that Jason is not here to enjoy her.  Sure, he'll be home in 5 weeks and will love her, I just know it. But it would be so much better if he were her right at this moment to marvel in her amazing puppiness with me.  To see how happy she makes all of our kids.  But no matter how I look at it, she IS the right pet for us, even though she arrived here weeks earlier than we had anticipated adding a new pet to our family.

And so I hope people won't judge and think we didn't love Rusty enough or care enough to wait whatever their acceptable time limit is before getting a new dog.  Because we loved him so much.  And our loss still hurts; our new puppy doesn't change that.  But this puppy is a bittersweet new beginning as we prepare for our travel and new life abroad.  I hope she'll be as happy and feel as loved as Rusty did with us.