Gotta love the Army

There are things I should blog about. Ammon's days off, how I lost my camera somewhere and can't get my 900 pictures off of it, my feelings on 9/11 and the total and complete opposite feeling I get nine years after it happened, random facts that make us who we are, birthdays, family, oh, and what a joy it is to be a mother. It seems like the past month has been the biggest roller coaster ride we (Ammon included) have ever been on, emotionally and mentally.

I think the word to sum up August and September is FRUSTRATION. I don't think I ever understood that word until I became a mother. Scratch that. Until I got married. Since then, I've felt it many times. When you first get married wondering what the heck he just did that for, after Matthew was born and I was so tired I couldn't walk and unfortunately, with a lovely, great, very organized association we've (Ammon) dealt with now for almost eleven years. (please sense the sarcasm!)

I've talked about it before and how being in the military has its definite perks and its obvious hindrances. Usually, as Reservists or with being in the National Guard, we don't deal much with paperwork (or loss thereof), people or "active duty," or whatever that may entail. That is what makes a person want to be in the Reserves I guess. We have had more lost paperwork than anyone I have ever heard of. We are owed more money than a lot of people get in a month. And we are whipped and tossed around like we are dolls, uneducated ones who must not have any life, much less employers or landlords.

The beginning of August, we got news that we wouldn't be moving anywhere [out of Nevada] for the time being. Ammon had started to do real estate and we thought we had a good system going. We looked for days for houses and ended up finding a great little house in an awesome neighborhood in Summerlin, only about thirty seconds to the freeway and about five minutes to Ammon's new "job" working with foreclosed homes. We paid money, signed paperwork and set the move-in date for September 1st, after Ed Week, to give us time to move in. I was so excited! Ammon was excited. The house was so cute and had GRASS in the backyard. Can you believe it? A house in Vegas with grass in the front and backyards? Unheard of. I told everyone. Church, friends, family.

Then, a few days before we left for Utah, Ammon's job became halted. Okay, completely put off. The company was going through legal issues themselves and so all of Ammon's hopes in making money there ended. We figured we still liked the house though and felt great about the move, and since Ammon would have much more time to spend with us, I liked the idea. (He would literally leave at 9 am everyday to go across town to Summerlin, stay there until 4 pm when he'd have to leave to go to the Wynn for his shift at the restaurant. He'd get home at 2 am and start it all over again seven hours later.)

We left for Utah and that Tuesday, Ammon called me to tell me the update. He'd gotten an email and phone call that we were supposed to be in Fort Benning, Georgia by September 1st for an Operations NCO for the Manueuver Center of Excellence there. I was in class when he got the call and I have to say I was quite surprised. Ammon was elated though so it made me realize it'd be okay and that even though we weren't crazy about going to Kentucky, it didn't take us long to like it and we ended up being sad to leave. We mentally got prepared to leave since there wasn't much for me to do with being out of town. Ammon called the man who owned the house right away and told him we couldn't meet him the next day to pay him the rest of the security deposit and apologized that we (the Army) had screwed him over. Ammon told his job and within two days, by Thursday the 19th, guess what, things changed. The guy in Benning told him that because of paperwork and active duty changes, they were changing our report date from September 1st to November 1st. Needless to say, Ammon wasn't thrilled to have to tell his job or return to work at all for that matter, but we realized at least we were going, getting more money at this job, and that we'd live in a house with even more grass in the backyard.

We were set. We were leaving. We told more people. At church, we told people that we were still leaving, a little later than originally planned, and much much farther than originally thought. I got a little excited looking at homes and finding out more information about Phenix City (yes, pronounced like Pheonix), Alabama and Columbus, Georgia. We had prices for homes, moving trucks and plane tickets for my mom and Matthew.

September 3rd came and while Ammon was at work, they informed him that due to funding, Ammon and twelve others whom they also ripped apart to and fro, were no longer offered the jobs and that we were no longer leaving. Ammon was devastated. I don't think hate is a word to describe his feelings of working at the Wynn. He had seriously prepared everything to go and his job was surprisingly okay with it. (Side note: I know we are SO blessed to have a home where we don't have to inform landlords, sell with a realtor or pay extra fees like those other eleven people who also had this "very important but obviously not important enough for the army to afford it" job. I will never know how to pay my parents back for their hospitality, generosity, love, kindness and open arms. Everyone of those eleven other families would be so lucky. Also, I thank Heavenly Father numerous times a day for the job Ammon hates so much.) So, there we were, back to square one.

Tuesday the 7th came and Ammon got an email. Another one. "Um, SSG Blair, you've had an assignment in Fort Benning, GA since July 30th and we've never heard from you. Wondering when you're going to sign paperwork to work at the Warrior Transition Unit for two to three years?" YOU'RE KIDDING. Seriously. But, another relief for Ammon and I must admit myself. We'd already prepared ourselves to move, although not physically, but prepared nonetheless. So, the report date this time was October 1st. Okay, cool. This one seemed a lot more promising and it made us understand why we felt like we were still to move to Georgia even after we heard about us not having to go anymore. So, off we went to prepare some more and tell more people. (I've since learned NOT to tell a single soul any of our "plans." They'll change the next day and you'll seem that much more unorganized and that much more of a loser since you're in the same place what seems like every year!)

Three weeks before the job was to start, still no orders. Okay. Well, things might still look up. A few days later, still nothing. How were we really supposed to give a job two weeks notice without military orders? After many phone calls, including a few to the Utah governor's office, and after a deleted job meaning we'd have to get approval from the dozen signatures he needed again, we tried to stay patient through it all.

I hadn't packed much (okay, practically nothing) by the time we got to the countdown day 14. I've also learned through all this not to count your chickens before they hatch. I think I asked Ammon three or four dozen times if this was really going to happen. He always assured me that this was real and that this job hand picked him out of all these other people. Again, sounded promising I have to admit. Two weeks before we were set to pull out of town, still no orders, still no word. Ammon had given the Wynn a letter terminating his employment as of Saturday the 18th. Finally on the 14th, after a few more [slightly angry] phone calls to the state of Utah, they told us we WERE NOT GOING. The Utah National Guard said that since Ammon is in an 88N slot, they had no one to replace him when he left and that he'd have to go get MOS qualified for it before they were to give him a Tag Release. (In lamans terms, they weren't letting him go because they "claimed" he wasn't qualified and they were too lazy to get someone else to fill the slot.)

Fortunately, the Wynn has let him work since and even more fortunately, we still have a place to live, unlike others who don't have wonderful parents to live with.

So, life right now is in limbo as if there is anyone who wouldn't be able to tell. I have to say I can look at the past seven months and both count my blessings and feel [very] sorry for myself. Number one reason is my family. I know that people have this humane sense that others think of them way more than they do. It's hard for me NOT to think that people look at me and silently say "Look at Chelsea, almost 25, living at home, with a husband and kid. Can't those people pay their own bills and get their own home?" Now, I don't have any idea what people think, and most days, I have to remind myself that I shouldn't care, and most days, I don't. I've had my ups and downs of course, but I also have to remind myself that there is not one person who really understands our situation unless you've been there. I'm part of a military wives email group and there are so many of us in similar situations. Is it ideal? Of course not. Would I really PICK living with my mom and dad and not having my own home, even if that meant that I had to pay my own rent? Not at all. But, on the other hand, I feel SO lucky. I think that Heavenly Father really looks out for his military families. I feel we are one of them. On days where I really want my own home and really wish that I could be "normal," I go downstairs and see Matthew's relationship with my mom and dad. I see him light up when they come in the room and when "PAPA" takes him to the trash and when "GA" plays with him constantly. I couldn't ask for a better situation, really. I know it's not easy for them, but I also know that it makes me think they are some of the best people in the entire world. I hope one day that if Matthew ever has to live with me when he's older and if he decides to serve his country like Ammon has, that he will feel half as appreciative as I do for my parents. Everyday I hope for a better situation. Everyday I think about what I could do in my own home. But everyday I also look at how lucky I am to have a home in the first place.

I've always remembered a quote I heard in primary for the first time. "I never said it would be easy, I just said it would be worth it." Thank goodness for the gospel and the Atonement so I can be reassured, one day, it'll be worth it.