M&M's Home Blog

So, it's 2:00 AM and I'm sitting beside my husband at his job, keeping him company and looking at articles on a few major "news" providers. I saw a collage of pictures taken from a variety of protests, and it took me a minute to organize my thoughts on a hot topic of our time: peace.

I don't find peace demonstrations by their basic nature to be offensive. I appreciate people who pray for peace and demonstrate for peace when peace itself is all they are requesting. However, when they cross the line into anti-Bush, anti-military, anti-violence, I get really angry.

Take a group like Code Pink, for instance. They have harassed recruiters and recruits alike, drawing the very obnoxious and ignorant conclusion that the military breeds warmongers. I have also seen signs that equate military force with terrorism. These people, of course, are also the ones who will tell you that law-abiding citizens don't have the right to keep and bear firearms. But I digress...

I really hope for peace on Earth. I hope that one day, all of our hard work in foreign lands will have paid off, and we will be able to leave these countries, confident that they can stand on their own. And by peace on Earth, I mean real peace, not the imitation type which results from us calling it quits before the job is done. Most importantly, I pray for peace of mind for the loved ones of those who have made the ultimate sacrifice. On this Memorial Day, may they be blessed with fond memories of their heroes, and the confidence that their sacrifice was not made in vain. May God bless them all.

...I'm getting a dose of real life. Again.

I have lived a fairly charmed life for the last six weeks, working on the house and enjoying the time I have with Mike when he isn't working. In a week and a half I return to my civilian job, which will give me structure and organization again. It also means that I must have the house organized soon! In the past few days, I have discovered that Mike and I have accumulated a massive amount of books, and I'm busy organizing them and getting them into bookshelves. And no, I'm not shelving them alphabetically!

So fear not, dear reader, for once this strange, transitory period in my life is over, I'll be back to random ramblings and wearing steel-toed boots. Real life awaits!!

Mike can do anything - literally anything. I have never known anyone with his abilities in such a wide range of activities, from webpage design to installing plumbing. He is truly amazing.

After spending the morning driving around, running errands, I found myself in my kitchen, baking cupcakes for our friends down the street. I pawed through my cabinets to find the utensils and ingredients that I needed, and took my KitchenAid mixer (a Christmas gift from Mike) on her maiden voyage. As the mixer quietly hummed in front of me, I looked out my kitchen window to see my husband blissfully weed-whacking along the perimeter of our house. For the first time in a long while, I felt happy and at peace, comfortable in the knowledge that I'm right where I'm supposed to be. This quiet, suburban life is what I want, and although the duffel bags still aren't unpacked and the new television set is still an enigma, I'm right on track.

I've been home for five days and I'm absolutely loving it. Thanks to all those who supported me during this deployment and welcomed me home. And special thanks to my Army buddies across the country, who are hopefully experiencing the same sense of peace and wonder that I am.

That's right. The best view of Iraq can be seen through the rearview window - or, in my case, craning your neck as the ramp of the C-130 closes.

I am so relieved. The last week of my time in Baghdad was decidedly unpleasant, as anyone who reads the national headlines can surmise. I'm now in Kuwait, enjoying the fact that I have nothing, literally nothing, to do. Although it's pretty warm here, there's a stiff breeze blowing constantly, which makes us feel as though we're enjoying spring again. I've watched more movies in the last three days than I have in the last six months. And I'm not complaining!

I should be back in Kansas in a few days, and if I'm lucky, in just over a week, I'll be back where I belong - in my house, in Newburgh, with the world's greatest husband.

If there is such a thing as Cloud Nine, it's far below me!!

Colleen left the IZ three days ago, and this morning, for the first time, I wasn’t surprised by the sight of her empty bunk. The first couple of nights were pretty rough; I was very lonely and found that I couldn’t get the “Saying Goodbye” song from The Muppets Take Manhattan out of my head.

Colleen is embarking on a journey that, to me, makes her awfully courageous – she is walking away from a good corporate job to become a full time student again. Resurrecting a dream that she pushed aside ten years ago, she has entered an accelerated education program that will result in her becoming what she has always truly wanted to be: a nurse. I can’t think of a more honorable and desperately needed profession, and Colleen has all of the skills to do it well.

So I ask all of you, my family and friends, to keep Colleen in your thoughts and prayers as she makes this incredible transition. And selfishly, if you could pray for me a bit as I finish out my tour here, I would appreciate it as well. Despite the fact that I can now control the air conditioner, my little home away from home is not as warm and welcoming as it was when I shared it with “The Princess”.

Best of luck, Colleen, and we’re all very proud of you!!

“Together We Go.” The MNSTC-I motto has drawn snickers from many as it does sound decidedly unmilitary. However, a sad event has caused me to ponder its true meaning, and how it affects us all.

Today, we held a memorial service for Air Force Staff Sergeant (SSgt) Christopher Frost, who was killed in the line of duty four days ago. Memorial services are difficult by their very nature; the roll call drives the painful point home.

“Staff Sergeant Frost!” Silence.

“Staff Sergeant Christopher Frost!” Silence.

“Staff Sergeant Christopher S. Frost!” The rifles fire, Taps is played, and our hearts quietly break.

SSgt Frost was the editor of The Advisor, a publication released by the MNSTC-I public affairs office. Its purpose is to highlight the accomplishments of the Iraqi Military and Police Forces, and the advances that they have made in their quest to assume full responsibility for the security of their country. SSgt Frost, who routinely reported on the Iraqi Air Force, was aboard one of their helicopters when it went down during inclement weather. He died alongside seven Iraqi airmen, whose story he was undoubtedly planning to tell.

Together We Go. Every day, we fight alongside our Iraqi brethren, whether on the battlefield or in the office. At their side, we encourage them in their successes and console them in their failures. We argue and plead with them when they’re off course. We celebrate their victories. It doesn’t matter if we’re here five more years or fifty. Their futures are linked closely with our own, because when they’re capable of managing operations within their country, we can return to ours.

Together We Go. SSgt Christopher Frost exemplified the spirit of MNSTC-I; may we always remember his example and be mindful of his sacrifice. Please pray for his family and friends as they mourn the loss of a hero.

Part of my job involves creating funding packages for projects so that they can be approved and money can be released to support the project. This includes determining an estimated cost for the project, and in the case of something I'm currently working, I needed to call a vendor in the US to get estimates on some parts. I call the corporate headquarters, and the operator transferred me to the company's government representative. And then the phone call became interesting.

I gave the woman my name and told her that I was serving with the US Army in Baghdad, Iraq and was looking for some estimates on parts. We spoke for about five minutes, and I gave her my email address so that a salesperson could contact me. She asked, "And where are you located again?" I told her again that I was in Iraq, and her next question blew me away. "Can you spell that?"

"I-R-A-Q." I promise you that I kept my voice even.

"Thanks, I just wanted to make sure I got it right."

Amazing. I could go into a diatribe about American situational awareness but I won't. Nontheless, I retain the rights to one of the greatest work-related stories in the history of the J4 (or so I like to think).

On another note, I'd like to introduce you to something very special.

Isn't he handsome? I wish he had a name!

I received him early on in my deployment, and despire daily watering, he refused to grow. My colleagues admonished me repeatedly; "You need to throw that away! It looks like a piece of (insert expletive)!"

"No! My mother-in-law gave it to me!" Note the loyalty in that statement.

I prevailed in spite of their mockery. About a week before I returned home on leave, he started to grow. By the time I left, there were eight blades of grass atop his brown head. When I returned to Iraq, he had reached maturity. MAJ Iijima, a mother of four, had turned her affinity for nurturing life into a green thumb. We added the glasses because with them, he resembles my boss.

My husband says I'm easily amused. What do you think?

Anyhow, we're slowly preparing for our eventual transition with our replacements and most people seem to be in fairly cheerful moods. More to follow in the future!

After fifteen glorious days of leave with my husband and family, I am back in the IZ, my home away from home. I noticed a few minor changes - a bunker here, a chain link fence there, but the biggest change is the new buzzword here: RIP/TOA. This acronym is just the Army's way of saying that our tour is winding down and we're now preparing to transition to the next cycle of folks. It feels great!

R&R was wonderful. In addition to our Indiana activities, Mike and I spent five days in Gatlinburg, Tennessee in a cabin up in the mountains. The weather cooperated nicely and we visited our favorite spots in town, tried a few new restaurants, and spent about a day with two of our good friends. We are also the proud owners of a fondue pot, which has been a fantasy of mine since childhood. I refuse to believe that fondue parties are out of style!

My folks threw an open house for us so that we could see all of the people that we knew we wouldn't get a chance to visit. Our two families have the amazing ability to mesh as if they've known each other for years, and it's a wonderful atmosphere for us!

We made two school visits, one to my mother's school and another to a class of second graders who had sent me care packages. Some of the younger children asked amazingly thoughtful questions for their ages, and I had to stay on my toes, trying my best to answer honestly but in a way they would understand.

Pictures are forthcoming (particularly of our house - Mike is screening them now). And now we're just "running through the tape" (as one of my ROTC instructors used to say) and looking forward to the beginning of the next race!

I'm sorry I didn't post this sooner, but I had to clear this story through our public affairs office and our intelligence cell before making it public knowledge! :)

'Twas the Night Before Christmas
-By Captain Marissa Mitchell, US Army, OIF 2007-2008

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and back in my trailer
I felt lonely and cold, like a long adrift sailor.

My roommate was snuggled up close to the heater.
If it turned on again, I swore I would beat her.

Melancholy, I gazed at my tiny, lit tree,
Wishing that I was back home with my family.

When outside, I heard the most terrible roar!
The sirens were blaring and I hit the floor.

“That was too loud for rocket or car bomb,” I said.
“Could it be a mortar the size of my head?”

Moments later, the giant voice sounded: “All Clear!”
Then I wandered outside, and I heard, “Over here!”

Toward the palace I ran, and looked at the porch roof.
Could it be? Hanging over the edge was a hoof!

And dangling beside it, a man all in red.
“It’s a short drop, let go. You can do it!” I said.

He took my advice and he dropped to the ground.
Helping him to his feet, I then turned him around.

“Who are you?” I asked. He looked at me and paused.
“Don’t you recognize me? It is I, Santa Claus!”

I laughed at his story. “The MPs will love you.”
“Don’t believe me?” He asked. “Well, then look up above you!”

I lifted my eyes, and what did I see
But eight furry faces that stared back at me.

“It’s okay, guys,” he called. “It’s safe to come down.”
Then the eight reindeer leaped without making a sound.

Behind them, a sleigh landed softly in dirt.
I gasped and I sputtered, “Is anyone hurt?”

“Not at all,” the man said, and he laughed merrily.
“I got lost, and this palace just crashed into me!”

I sat on a bench there and talked to St. Nick.
He regaled me with tales of his annual trip.

Then I looked at his overstuffed, velvety pack.
“Santa, what did you bring for the folks in Iraq?”

At that he grew quiet and lost in his thought.
“Peace and freedom for all are the gifts that I brought.”

“But the sight of my gifts seemed to fill them with dread.
They yelled ‘Allah Ahkbar!’ and they shot at my sled!"

His shoulders drooped forward, the jolly elf cried.
So I hugged him. “Dear Santa, it’s good that you tried.”

“But peace and freedom can’t come wrapped in a bow.
The people must want them; we can’t wish it so.”

“Someday this country will prosper, just wait,
These people will move past their fear and their hate.”

He nodded; a smile had returned to his face.
“But I can do some good, here in this tired place.”

From his sleigh he withdrew a box wrapped all in red.
“This may be the best gift of all,” Santa said.

He climbed into his sleigh. “You’ve restored my faith!
Merry Christmas, my child, and please keep yourself safe!”

I watched as the reindeer flew into the sky.
“On Dasher, on Dancer…” and I bid them goodbye.

I unwrapped my box with the greatest of care
And I gazed in wonder at the gift hidden there.

The beautiful note inside made my eyes tear.
“I promise you’ll be home for Christmas next year.”