“…names, birth dates and Social Security numbers of as many as 1.1 million active-duty personnel from all the armed forces — or 80 percent of all active-duty members — are believed to have been included, along with 430,000 members of the National Guard, and 645,000 members of the Reserves.”

It’s highly likely that my husband’s and my brother-in-law’s information was among the data stolen. Maybe even my dad’s. And even though a credit check has revealed nothing bad outside of a disputed $73 that we allegedly owe for a medical supply (but I knew about that, and personally told the scam artist collection agency to take a flying leap), I pointed out to Bill that if the data isn’t secured, the government could face reassigning millions of social security numbers. After all, in ten years, his name, birth date, and SSN will be the same and the SOP for obtaining credit will be the same, so the data will be just as useful in 10 or 20 years as it is today.

But a more urgent fear is the physical security of military personnel and their families whose addresses could become the common knowledge of nefarious foreign interests, if the data works its way into the right black market. The hope, my hope, is that the theft was innocent enough (simple theft, not theft with intent to commit treason or even theft with intent to commit fraud through the use of another’s identity), and the perpetrators will see the news and decide to anonymously turn the hard drive over to authorities. Stolen items are called hot…but some are considered scorching.

OK, I have nothing original to say today. I’m just copying stuff from other people.

First, a visit to Catholic Mom led me to this cartoon at Happy Catholic. Having recently met Catholic Mom, I have to agree that meeting people flushes out a character and adds a whole dimension that just can’t be obtained strictly online.

Then reading Happy Catholic’s postings from yesterday, June 6th, 2006, the dreaded day of the beast: 6/6/6, brought me to the comments written by TonyR which are too funny not to copy here:

666 Biblical Number of the Beast
660 Approximate Number of the Beast
DCLXVI Roman Numeral of the Beast
665 Number of the Beast’s Older Brother
667 Number of the Beast’s Younger Sister
668 Number of the Beast’s Neighbor
999 Number of the Australian Beast
333 Number of the Semi-Beast
66 Number of the Downsized Beast
6, uh… I forget Number of the Blond Beast
666.0000 Number of the High Precision Beast
665.9997856 Number of the Beast on a Pentium
00666 Zip Code of the Beast
666@hell.org E-mail Address of the Beast
http://www.666.com Website of the Beast
1-666-666-6666 Phone & FAX Number of the Beast
1-888-666-6666 Toll Free Number of the Beast
1-900-666-6666 Live Beasts, available now! One-on-one pacts! Only$6.66 per minute! [Must be over 18!]
666-66-6666 Social Security Number of the Beast
Form 10666 Special IRS Tax Forms for the Beast
IAM 666 License Plate Number of the Beast
Formula 666 All Purpose Cleaner of the Beast
66.6% Tax Rate of the Beast
6.66% 6-Year CD Interest Rate at First Beast Bank of Hell ($666 minimum deposit, $666 early withdrawal fee)
$666/hr Billing Rate of the Beast’s Lawyer
$665.95 Retail Price of the Beast
$710.36 Price of the Beast plus 6.66% Sales Tax
$769.95 Price of the Beast with accessories and replacement soul
$656.66 Wal-Mart Price of the Beast (next week $646.66!)
$55.50 Monthly Payments for Beast, in 12 easy installments

And since joking about the devil is pretty serious stuff, and some may feel that it’s just not very wise…in fact, I myself would not encourage such behavior in those of little faith…I simply must defend my levity with this:

If the Lord is powerful, as I see that He is and I know that He is, and if the devils are His slaves (and there is no doubt about this because it’s a matter of faith), what evil can they do to me since I am a servant of the Lord and King? Why shouldn’t I have the fortitude to engage in combat with all of hell?

– Saint Teresa of Avila

Of course, God knew Job could handle everything that Satan could throw at him, and Job got it all. Yes, he had faith. But he had a miserable, wretched life, too. I’ll just tread lightly here and not foolishly offer any obscene gestures in the direction of hell.

Just an FYI in case you are confused: they are light sabres, not light savers. It’s bad enough that I have correct the boys, but then I heard a mom saying it yesterday too. Sabre, as in sword, the kind carried by a cavalry officer back when they rode horses and charged into the melee that defined milleniums of warfare swinging their heavy curved blade down on the heads of the common foot soldiers. Gruesome. Menacing.

This is a sabre. This particular sabre cut my wedding cake. We didn’t have a military wedding, but the sabre was a nod at military tradition (my husband was a 1LT in the Army Reserves) and my husband’s years of fencing experience. Hanging in front of the sabre is a Stetson, a part of my husband’s dress uniform when getting together within a cav unit (very much frowned upon by the non-cav higher-ups, which is part of the reason they do it).

Light saver conjures images of an aging hippie with a gray ponytail talking about ways to reduce your electricity consumption. Or it sounds like life saver, which is a floatation device or a candy with nice fruity flavors. None of these ideas inspires much fear.

We have an arsenal of light sabres, around 8 of them. Three of them make noise, light sabre swooshes and clashes. Pretty cool. One has Yoda’s voice offering advice.

Last night, Pete, age 11 months, picked up one of the light sabres and started attacking Billy with it. Billy was armed and happy to “fight”. The part that really had Bill and I laughing was the noises coming from the baby. He was dueling Billy and making the appropriate sound effects too! I cannot speak for all girls, but in my experience with my mixed-gender family, the use of sound effects in playing or telling stories is a guy-thing. I do not generally use sounds to describe events. My girls don’t usually describe the sounds they hear. But Bill and my boys would be hard-pressed to tell me something without making noise.

Suppose Katie is swinging on the swing and Billy is running in the yard. Suppose there is a collision:

Katie: {sob sob sob sob sob} Mommmmmeeeeee, I {sob} was {sob} swinging {sob} and {sob} Billy {sob} was {sob} running {sob} and I {sob} hit {sob} himmmmmm. {sob sob sob}

Billy: OW OW OW! MOM! I was going whoosh whoosh whoosh like Flash and Katie was going swish swish on the swing and then BAM! KaBLAM and I went SPLAT and it hurts OW OW OW!

So, it doesn’t surprise me much that Pete is already making sound effects. It just shows me that his verbal skills are right on track.

For a boy.

Pete is a trained sabre swallower. Please do not try this at home.

…slathered all over her naked torso.

Tonight it was margarine.

When her siblings called out, “Mom, Jenny’s covered in butter,” I said to my sister on the phone, “Oh my gosh, I gotta go.” click. She never called back, so she must have guessed it was a disaster, not a tragedy.

She was dripping globs ranging in size from 1 tbl to a quarter cup. And when she saw that I saw her, she ran…around the house…dripping everywhere.

Maybe someday she’ll own a fancy spa, and the famous and wealthy will come from all over for her special butter masks. Maybe she’ll own a line of moisturizer. Or maybe she’ll just always have soft, supple skin. And hair.

{sigh}

ARGH.

The principal of the school (Bill) just nixed my name idea in favor of this one: St. Michael the Archangel Rational Training for Youths – a Parentally Active Neo-classical Teaching School.

SMARTY PANTS

Ugh, he always has to one-up me.

No more pencils
No more books
No more teacher’s dirty looks

Out for summer
Out till fall
We might not go back at all

– Alice Cooper

I’ve got this song running through my head, so I thought I’d share the pain.

When I thought we were heading to Kansas for next school year, I looked into their homeschooling laws. Apparently, all that is needed is for a homeschool to register as a private, non-accredited school. Maybe I’d have to state who attended my school, but I don’t think so. That’s a pretty homeschool-friendly state, especially compared to Virginia, which isn’t horrible, I suppose, but I feel oppressed here with having to test my kids every single year, including kindergarten. If you’d care to hear why I think that’s wrong, let me know and I’ll fill you in on all the injustices of that law.

But since the plan is to go to Kansas in another year (2007 – 2008 school year), I figure I may as well be prepared with a name of my private school. So, I’ve come up with St. Michael the Archangel Rational Training Institute for Education. St. Michael is our family’s patron saint (and my personal patron too), and so naming our school after him is most appropriate. And the acronym possibilities are irresistible.

Yesterday, here at SMARTIE, we concluded our school year with our second annual poetry recital. Katie and Billy fought over who would be first. Katie won and recited “Time to Rise” by Robert Louis Stevenson. Then Billy did “The Little Turtle” by Vachel Lyndsay. Jenny got up next to do “Twinkle Twinkle” but was immediately overcome with stage fright, showing that her entertainment genes come from her father’s side of the family and not mine. After she cleared the stage by rolling away, Bill sat and recited “Requiem” by Robert Louis Stevenson. He had to peek, but I couldn’t be too harsh on him since he spent all of 5 minutes memorizing the lines, plus I had to peek on my piece, “The Duel” by Eugene Field. I worked on this with Fritz months ago and read it over once before the beginning. I probably could have done it without peeking, but was feeling mentally lazy (plus Bill peeked, so why shouldn’t I?). At least I was amusing, and the kids enjoyed my description of what really happened to the cat and pup. Fritz, my reluctant performer, went last and recited “The Song of Mr. Toad” by Kenneth Graham. He did just fine. Just to include Pete, I sat with him on my lap and we sang “Twinkle Twinkle” while he clapped and laughed. Pete found the production very entertaining.

We videotaped the whole thing, and when it was over we had to watch it, naturally. But then we were officially done with school and went out for ice cream to celebrate. Hooray!

I told the kids: 2 weeks off and then summer school. What?!? Yes, I know how mushy the mind gets if it isn’t exercised for 3 months (and it won’t be if I don’t make them). So, we’ll be doing light coursework to keep up minimum brain cell production. My big challenge: once a week taking a field trip – somewhere for something. Tons of possibilities in the area and I want to make use of them.

Little Petey is doing two new and wonderful things. He is walking (two or three tentative steps at a time) and he is going down the stairs backwards (quickly, successfully, and confidently). He is joyfully practicing these new skills over and over again. It is so sweet to the the grin on his face when he thinks to himself, “I DID it!” after he manages forward motion on two legs.

I remember when Fritz was learning to walk. He had the same pride as he got better and better. But a few things are different with Pete.

For one, Pete’s mom is not the same person as baby Fritz’s mom. I remember those years of early motherhood. I hovered over Fritz. I agonized over every fall, scratch and bruise. I spent hours crouched over while little baby fingers grasped mine and fat baby toes padded up and down the hallway. And I was his biggest cheerleader.

With Pete, I’ve walked him a few times, but only a few. He has older siblings with shorter statures to help him get around. I don’t fret over his falls; I don’t call my mom, the nurse, asking for symptoms of a concussion (I still do for the older kids, but not Pete yet).

And I honestly don’t know if I’m his biggest cheerleader. It’s not that I’m not encouraging his every step with as much enthusiasm as I did Fritz’s – I am. But the competition is stiff here. I can beat Bill, but only because I spend more time doing it than he does. But Pete has 4 older siblings who think he’s just the most amusing and wonderful thing on the planet, and they stand around him telling him to do it again and again and again clapping the whole time.

Those who question an adult’s capacity to love more than a few children and thus encourage small families are missing the point. A family’s love is not limited to the love of the parents for the children and the children’s love of the parents. It is rather the love of each family member for each other family member. And here, at Chez Moi, we got a whole lotta lovin’ goin’ on.

Living on a military post, I get the question, “Where are you from?” more often than when I lived in the “real world.”

Well, except for the times when my midwest or American accent made me stand out.

This is a tough question. Here’s the breakdown:

Born in Cleveland, Ohio and lived in Ohio until age 9.
Moved to Richmond, Virginia and lived there until age 18.
Attended college in Pennsylvania and then lived there for two years after college until age 24 (my parents moved back to Ohio when I was 19).
Got married and moved to New Jersey to share a home with my husband until last March (total time served: 9 1/2 years).
Back in Virginia now for over a year.

That’s Ohio: 9 years; Virginia: 10 years and counting; PA: 6 years; and NJ: 9 1/2 years.

They say “home is where the heart is” and my heart is clearly here in VA with my nearest and dearest, and the time factor is weighing in its favor too.

But my recent trip to NJ has me sighing with the realization that I just may have to claim that state as my home state.

egads.

Why do I like New Jersey?

• I own a home there. It’s not a house; it’s my home. It was our first (and only) house. There’s a lot of my sweat and tears poured into that fixer-upper. Things I planted are growing in that front yard.
• Most of my children were conceived there (not Katie).
• Most of my children were born and baptized there (not Pete).
• Most of my closest friends live there (and Lena used to live there; she only just moved across the river to PA).
• I found God in New Jersey.
• I learned 90% of what I know about Catholicism in New Jersey.
• There’s actually quite a bit of farmland in NJ – parts of it remind me of the rolling hills of Eastern Ohio, except the fields have horses instead of cows. And the farmland isn’t in designated spots only. Open Space laws have preserved farms in such a way that you could be in bumper to bumper traffic one minute and flying down a rural road the next.
• Most residents drive with a purpose in NJ (except on Sundays when some of the old folks take their cars for a walk).
• You don’t have to pump your gas in NJ, and you don’t pay any more for having somebody do it for you.
• There are a plethora of restaurants and other eating establishments in NJ, including, but not limited to, The Jersey Diner. You like bagels, they got bagels. You like pasta, they got pasta. Bill, on his first visit to Ohio, could not understand how two roads could interesect and be devoid of buildings. “Why is there even a stop sign?” he would ask. “You’d have to be blind to get hit – you can see for a mile.” He explained to me that in New Jersey, every intersection has 3 delis and a bar, except Kearny which has 3 bars and a deli. When Bill was TDY here in Arlington and we still lived in Jersey, I brought the kids down to visit. Bill was working late, so we got into the car to find a place to eat. We drove and drove and drove. Fritz asked where the restaurants were. I suggested that the people in VA don’t eat out. In Jersey, you trip over places to eat.
• The grocery stores (the mega-super-duper ones) offer such a fabulous selection of fresh meats and veggies and cheeses: organic, international, Kosher…you want it, you got it. I never, ever had trouble finding a special ingredient, even for the most ethnic of dishes. And if you have the time and energy, there are an abundance of options to the mega-grocery stores from health food stores to ethnic stores and from farmer’s markets to roadside stands of home-grown produce.
• I’m not a big fan of the shore and Six Flags is nothing compared to Cedar Point, but for overall access to a wide variety of activities and places to go, things to see and people to meet, New Jersey has a lot to offer (even if you have to go to a neighboring state to do stuff).

And finally, I must now admit to the biggest thing I miss about New Jersey: pizza. Before Bill, I was a fan of Pizza Hut and Dominos. I loved the thick crust and the toppings. But after nearly a decade of Jersey pizza (at one point, Bill put his foot down and forbid me to order from Dominos ever), I have become a convert. Jersey pizza is yummy, and I miss it so.

And when you miss some things (like friends and pizza) this much, you have to start to think that perhaps your home – your heart – is there.

Oh, just don’t tell Bill. He’ll never let me live it down.

As of Dec 25, 2005, consumers spent over $232 billion on holiday shopping.

The regular non-emergency defense budget is $420 billion.

Congress is quibbling over a $50 billion emergency budget to cover operating expenses, including efforts in Katrina-devastated Louisiana and Mississippi (yes, we’re still there).

National Journal’s CongressDailyPM

May 31, 2006

Lacking Needed Funds, Army Begins To Cut Back Spending

With House and Senate negotiations on the FY06 emergency supplemental spending bill still unresolved, the Army has started pinching pennies to make its funding for operations in Iraq and Afghanistan last until at least early July. The plan, according to an internal e-mail from Army Vice Chief of Staff
Richard Cody, is to gradually restrict spending over the next few weeks, with options growing as dire as suspending recruitment efforts and postponing promotions if Congress does not send the supplemental to President Bush for signing before the July 4 congressional recess.

“These are painful actions but they are absolutely necessary in order to continue operations during the month of June,” Cody wrote in an e-mail circulated last week, a copy of which was obtained by CongressDaily. “This measured response will provide appropriate controls on our spending of [operations and maintenance] resources and will minimize the impact on our mission.” Resources, he said, should be spent on the “highest priority missions.”

The service’s operations and maintenance accounts for FY06 now stand at $5.6 billion, not including any budgetary
reprogramming efforts. The Army expects to receive more than $36 billion out of the $92 billion-plus spending package for military operations and hurricane recovery efforts.

This week, Army leaders have been ordered to hold orders of
any “non-critical” supply parts and postpone or cancel all non-essential travel, training and conferences. By Tuesday, the Army intends to put a freeze on all civilian hires. “You may continue recruiting efforts but cease all final offers of employment,” Cody’s e-mail said. If Congress does not pass the supplemental
by June 15, the Army plans to release all temporary civilian employees performing operations and maintenance work, including depot workers. The service also will freeze all contract awards and suspend the use of government purchase cards. The longer the time before the supplemental is approved, the more ominous Cody’s instructions become. Beginning June 26, the Army will have to release contract employees, including recruiters, “if doing so will not carry penalties or termination costs equal to or in excess of the cost of continuing the
contract,” according to the e-mail.

The service, Cody wrote, may retain “a minimum number of personnel performing mission-essential services.” That week,
Cody said he will demand a list of actions the Army would have to take in July to trim military personnel accounts. Those options should include delaying recruitments, deferring re-enlistments and freezing promotions.

“We are realists on the supplemental passing in June. [The] next backstop where Congress has to try to finish up is 4th [of] July,” a senior military official said. “We hope it’s in early June, but can’t count on that.” Last week, House Appropriations Chairman Lewis said the Pentagon would accept delaying passage of the supplemental to early June. House and Senate appropriators still have not scheduled a formal conference meeting amid concerns in the House over Gulf Coast
rebuilding and agriculture disaster aid sought by senators.

— by Megan Scully

Interesting to note that the people most likely to be affected by lack of funding are civilian and contract employees of the Department of Defense. Yes, some promotions may be delayed for a few months, but this isn’t a really big deal. At least not as big a deal as somebody losing his job for a few months.

So, keep things in perspective. The entire defense budget is twice what we spent on Christmas shopping. The emergency $50 billion is less than what Americans spent on alcohol in 2004 (http://www.bls.gov/cex/csxann04.pdf). Even if you disagree with the wars, can you honestly say that not funding defense is a good idea? Even if you think the military is too big, is laying off civilians the answer? Or should we leave New Orleans to its own devices? Or let the ethnic Albanians torch the Serbian churches in Kosovo?

But for now, since there’s no funding for non-essential travel, I’ll just look at the bright side: no TDY travel for my husband.

Bill has left for work. It’s been nice seeing him this past week.

My ticket cost me $200. OUCH.

Yesterday, we continued our insane push of physical and mental endurance as we attempted to put together the swingset we brought down from New Jersey. Last night, after many hours of labor, Bill announced, “It is now officially unsafe.” We have 2 platforms (one at ground level and one about 4 feet up) and a ladder, but no side rails. Should be fun trying to keep the kids off it. Perhaps I’ll work on it today.

It’s tough to put together something that was together once already. Many of the holes were field-drilled and duplicating the configuration is difficult. I’ve already made a mental note to use a marker to label some connections for next time.

And when all is said and done, the kids will be thrilled and I will be happy to let them swing and slide in the yard….except for one thing. Pete’s activity level is at that point where he is too dangerous for anybody’s good. He keeps me hopping. He’s already demonstrated prowess in climbing ladders at a friend’s swingset, so he’ll be eager to tackle this challenge as well.

{sigh}

Yesterday, I made it to a garden shop and picked up 3 tomato plants and 3 bell pepper plants. This is my first time doing container gardening, so it will be interesting to see how that works out. A friend who lives in housing that will be knocked down at the end of the year has suggested putting in a garden in her yard, since housing won’t care if there are vines growing every which way. I’m willing to plant and weed and help out there…but I still want to be able to walk outside and pick my salad.

Oh, lightbulb idea: I have 2 containers that are long and narrow and hadn’t figured out what to do with them: flowers? leave them empty? It just occured to me that I could use them for lettuce. I’d be able to move them to shade if I couldn’t find a spot that was shady all day. I only tried lettuce once, a few years ago. I was so proud and excited to see the little row beginning to grow. I couldn’t wait to have a totally home grown salad.

And then one day I went out to the garden to weed and I noticed that the entire row was gone: devoured by the fat groundhog or woodchuck pest that wandered in our neighborhood irritating gardeners. Had the thing walked into my garden at that very moment, I would have killed him with my bare hands.

Things are easing up: a little school today, watching my friend’s kids, baseball practice tonight (working on a swingset, planting some annuals, laundry, cleaning, grocery store, post office – the usual). Tomorrow’s schedule is empty (shhh, don’t tell anyone). Only 2 more soccer games, 5 more baseball games, and 2 birthday parties this month (so far).