Deployment Positive Thursday- Week 24

Well, I think it is safe to say that the summer has been a busy time for me- and honestly, I couldn't be happier about it! Just looking at my blogging, or lack there of, it's easy to see that I haven't had a spare moment the last few weeks. (I'll admit though, that my scarce blogging habits can also be blamed on the fact that we just don't have all that much to report- it's still hot and sandy in Afghanistan, and I'm still not-so-patiently waiting for R&R.) To make up for my lack of posts recently, I'm blogging everything that's been floating around my mind lately in one mammoth post. So today's DPT is a BOGO, if you will.

To start, I have to admit, I am loving that I am able to honestly say we are about halfway done at this point. It's so funny because the last 5 1/2 months have been such a blur, but also have seemed to drag on at the same time. Now with the promise of midtour leave seemingly right around the corner (obviously still a huge exaggeration at this point: we still have over three months until October even starts), I feel like we are finally making some real headway.

Sometimes it is hard to imagine that 2012 will ever actually get here, but yesterday for the first time ever, I saw a commercial for a line of 2012 Chevy cars and trucks! Hearing the word 2012 mentioned in a commercial for a product that is actually available to the general public RIGHT NOW was an amazing feeling; it's hard to explain, but it makes everything real. It's like when you are a kid and all you want is for Santa to come, but it's only December 1st and you still have 24 whole entire days to wait. You never think you'll actually get to Christmas Morning (at least, I never did when we started our Advent Calendars), but as more and more families begin to put up their Christmas Trees and decorations, you realize that soon Santa will come. That Chevy commercial made me realize that this deployment will eventually come to an end, that this lonely feeling will not always be my reality, even though sometimes it doesn't feel like it.

As June comes to a close, it feels like ages ago that we were in Disney. But today is a day to celebrate, not only because it is the last day of another month that we can forever bid farewell, but because of two very exciting events that happened in the Dolan household today. The first: Mom finally got her voice back after being told by an ENT not to talk at all for the past six weeks (we cheated a little at Disney, but who wouldn't) due to swollen vocal chords. And the second: Dad's big 60th birthday! We had the whole family over tonight for dinner and dessert by the pool and it was just a perfect evening. A great way to close out a pretty bum month!

And, with the start of July, brings another trip for me! Tomorrow I leave for 6 days in Germany visiting with family and friends. We grew up visiting my grandparents every summer, and as Mark and I grew older it got harder and harder to find time for all of us to go. I haven't seen my Oma in three long years (since I took a weekend trip to visit her while I was studying in Florence in '08) so I am definitely ready to wrap my arms around her. Mom Dolan helped my pack tonight (have I mentioned I hate packing? Literally I did dishes for as long as humanly possible tonight just to avoid it, then stomped around the house groaning about how much I was dreading the task ahead of me for almost a solid hour) but miraculously I fit everything into a single carry on suitcase! I'm pretty darn proud of myself.

I told Andrew that after post-deployment block leave and our Honeymoon, Germany is a vacation priority. It kills me that it is such a huge part of my life (and family) that he doesn't know. I dream of the day when my grandmother can finally meet him. Since my grandfather was in the military during WWII, she knows what it is like to have the love of her life away fighting a war, and she often tells me what a tough journey it is. She finds it so hard to fathom that Andrew and I are able to communicate so often and quickly. In her day, it took weeks and weeks (sometimes months) to get letters to one another, and she and my Opa wrote every.single.day. That is what I call love, and I think it is an excellent example they set for us.

I'm Walkin' Right Down the Middle of Main Street USA

Well, it's official! Mom Dolan and I will (finally) be having our first Disney Vacation together! We just got everything booked today, I am so excited and it just gives me one more thing to look forward to to make this deployment continue to fly by!

I will be in Orlando for work for a week at the end of May, so after my conference is over, Mom is going to fly down and we will stay at the Polynesian for a few extra nights! I feel like this is so surreal! Disney is a HUGE part of being a Dolan, and I am so excited for the first of many, many Disney trips with my amazing future mother-in-law!

I have only done the Disney thing twice, and only once as a family vacation. The first trip was in 1991, a few months after I turned 5 years old with my parents, brother, grandmother and uncle (on my dad's side). My grandmother decided to take us for a Thanksgiving trip, and the only thing I really remember of the trip are the tea cups and Mark ridding on Uncle Robbie's shoulders wearing a coon-skin cap. Right after the trip, we flew up to Pittsburgh (where my grandmother lived at the time) for a belated Thanksgiving dinner, leading me to think Florida and Pennsylvania were the same place for a large portion of my childhood. Oops! The second was for a class trip in 8th grade where one of our teacher/chaperones was later fired for punching one of the students. Not exactly the clique "Disney Experience"!

But, come May 2011,  I will finally be having my first real adult Disney visit! I can't wait, and I am so happy I will get to share the experience with Mom! This trip can seriously not come soon enough! Mickey, I'm coming!!!!!!!!!! 

Deployment Positive Thursday- Week 5

Happy Birthday, Papa!

Today, my weekly positive is the easiest it has been ever. Today is a tribute to the world's best dad, who just happens to have a birthday today!

May 1995- I'm probably trying to get away with something sneaky; and he is probably going to let me.

If anyone were to describe what I was like when I was growing up, saying I was a complete and total daddy's girl would be the understatement of the year. Not the spoiled kind who gets everything they ask for because they cry a fake tear or throw enough tantrums. I was the kind of girl who was absolutely 1,000,000% spoiled by my dad's love, and in turn had nothing but love and respect for him. 

As the first-born, dear-old-dad didn't really know what to expect when I came into the world in September 1986. He admits that even though I was two weeks late, he and my mom had forgotten to buy me a baby blanket, so he ran out to toysRus when mom and baby were resting on the day I was born to get me one. I'm not even a little embarrassed to admit that that same blanket is still sitting right next to me in this bed as I type this blog entry. 

Because I was first-born, when I started talking (pretty late in the developmental scheme of things because my mom was always speaking German to me, while my dad and everyone else was speaking English- that can get pretty confusing pretty quickly!) and started with the ma-maaaa (as most children do for Mommy) my parents decided to let it stick. Mama is German for Mother, as Papa is German for Father. Instead of trying to get me to say da-da over and over again, they opted for Papa, to honor my mom's German roots. (For those of you who don't know, my mom was born and raised in Germany and didn't move to the US until her late 20's for a temporary assignment. Long story short, temporary assignment turned into long-term, long-distance relationship, marriage, house in the suburbs, two babies, and a dog. Now THAT is the American Dream) I always loved that I had a special name for my dad that none of the other kids in school had, and I still love calling him my Papa, even though through the years it has become slightly more Americanized and now sounds more like pu-pu.

He was the one who worked all day, came home to kids fighting, dog barking, phone ringing, wife stressed trying to make sense of it all (I feel like I'm taking these lyrics straight from a country song) and still came busting through the door singing Hello, Dolly! every single night. My favorite part (and the part he always emphasized the most) was "It's so nice to be back where I belong!" I would always run to him and demand "ups! ups!", begging for him to pick me up. We were one of those lucky families who got to see our dad in the morning before school started, because he worked less than a mile from the house. In the summers, Mark and I used to bike over to the office (through a secret short-cut path in the woods) to have lunch with him. My dad walked us to the bus stop every morning for the first few years of school (even though it was just to the next-door neighbor's driveway, not even 100 yards down our not-very-busy street) or, if he drove us to school, always made us give him a kiss before we left the car. In my middle school years, I acted like it embarrassed me, but secretly I always loved this tradition we shared. 

He was the dog's master and best-friend; and no matter how cold or rainy or snowy, Papa and Nugget would go out every single night around bedtime to walk around the house a few times. I used to love going out with them on summer nights and sitting on the hill in our front yard watching the stars. The first, and only time, I ever saw my dad cry was in 2007 when he and my mom told me we would have to put Nugget down after almost 14 full years of having her grace our lives. (Time for a new pup yet?!) I am so thankful that he knew the exact-right time to bring Nugget into our lives and complete our family: Thanksgiving Day 1993. 

As I got older, he taught me to drive and manage my money, never allowing me to go overboard on a single purchase. He gave me my passion for the Red Sox and taught me what baseball was all about. He helped me pack up and move back to Stonehill for four years in a row, even though I know it broke his heart every time. He let me work at his company for a few months after I graduated from college, even though I know they didn't need the help- which in turn gave me the opportunity to spend as much time as I could with Andrew the summer before he started BOLC training in November 2009.

He loves me and respects me. He tells me constantly how blessed he has been to have me as a daughter and I, in turn do not tell him nearly enough what a joy it has been growing up with him as a father and a role model. He pushes me to do and be my best, even when I give him a hard time; and encourages me to always explore all of my options. He encourages me to be independent, but is always there to back me up when I need him.

And, I am so thankful that he survived (and passed with flying colors, I might add) that moment that I am sure every father dreads; somebody coming along and asking for his daughter's hand in marriage. I am so thankful that Andrew asked for his permission (well, blessing I guess) to marry me. In fact the first thing I said to Andrew (after I was done crying and saying "YES" a million times) was "did you talk to my dad about this?" I couldn't have imagined going home without first knowing that my dad had given his official seal of approval. I know that he was probably more shocked than I was about the whole engagement (because let's face it- I had been warned that if I dropped any more hints about getting married/engaged before deployment, Andrew would make me wait until we were both practically geriatrics before he proposed) but he was so excited and thrilled for the both of us. It is not going to be easy for either of us when the time comes for him to give me away: prepare yourselves for the two of us sentimental saps, blubbering like idiots and crying our eyes out when we walk down the aisle. But that's what I love about him, his undying love and support for me no matter what.

So, Happy Birthday, Papa! Thank you so much for all the experiences you've provided me with, places you've brought me, lessons you've taught me, love you've shown me and everything in between. You and Mama have been so supportive through this whole military adventure that has become my life, and I will never be able to thank you enough for that. You have welcomed Andrew into your family as one of your own, and that means the world to me. I could go on and on about family traditions and holidays and every special moment we had in our lives, but what it all boils down to is: I love you so much, and could have never had a better dad.