Who? What? ... Where???

Wow, its 2017. I started this blog in January 2010. At the time, I was fairly sure we were headed into the Foreign Service. Ha!

We have moved on from the Foreign Service. The dream has passed. That boat has floated. That dog won't hunt. The porch light's on but no one's home. We have thrown away the FSO Books and Oral Assessment prep paperwork in the basement. Now our basement has a pool table and ping pong table. And a couch. And X-Box. Our kids are securely planted in their schools here in suburban America. We have three kids, all teenagers, two dogs, two cats and a hamster. And stuff. Lots of stuff.

It has been a tough handful of years. My husband started thinking about joining the FS when my oldest son was in 3rd grade. He's in his junior year in high school now. During that time my husband has passed the FS exam and Oral Assessment three times and was added to the PD register three times. He was on "the list" but not high enough to get called. He spent money on brushing up his German skills. But. Nope. No FS for us.

The limbo time was hard. Not knowing to just stop wishing and planning for a different life, the FS life and to just be calm, to be here. To enjoy now. To stop worrying. I am a good worrier. Skilled.

Chicago?

My husband was given the opportunity to take a job in Chicago. This would be a move for our whole family.

The potential new employer wanted an answer quickly. The weekend to think it over. That's it.

We decided no.

One week until OA.

Ha! Chicago's too far, but anywhere in the world? Yeah, that's ok.

Ta da! I'm back.

So, yeah, some time has passed since I wrote last.
Hi, my name is Emily, and I'm a blog-avoider.
All together: "Hello, Emily."

I have a husband on the PD register, still.  He has been for, um, I think three or four years. By the way, 5.4 doesn't get you called off the register. He passed the OA three times with the same score: 5.4.

In a month he's taking the OA again.

I'm not even kidding.

I am working as a preschool teacher.
My husband is working in communications.

I have an 8-year-old spunky daughter (C). A gymnast, soccer player, and quite the talker. She's a reader and makes friends easily.

I have a 10-year-old son (S) who is strong and silent at first glance, but goofy and funny when you get to know him. He's also a competitive gymnast and soccer player. He broke his front tooth a month ago on a snowboard, yes, the permanent one. Gah!

Then there is the 12-year-old son (B) who is already an engineer, always thinking, designing and planning. He swims and wrestles. He is now taller than me and getting so handsome and witty.

And of course one yellow lab and two cats. I had to bring home the cardboard box with the two kittens in it. They were living under the stairs of a Chinese restaurant, so small and innocent. I just had to save them from becoming "sweet and sour kitties." My husband just couldn't say no after the kids caught a glance at the contents of the box....

So, that's where we are.

Blaze and Scout

S, B, and C

"What the Fru??!" Or "Deja vu??!"

My dear husband is home from DC.

He passed the OA.

5.4

AGAIN!

Three times. 5.4, 5.4, 5.4 What the 5-point-frickin-4 is going on?!

I mean, Yeah! Good job! He passed. But we were kind of hoping to be higher up the list.

Each time he did awesomely awesome at 2 sections and failed the third. But, get this!, the section he failed changed each of the three times. ?? Bizarre.

Now we have to decide what is next. Brain transfer with someone who knows Arabic? Hindi? Urdu? Any more viable suggestions out there? Speaking Cub/Boy Scout and Syracuse Basketball doesn't get you any points at all it appears. meh.

Bookmarks and stool samples

It's a week until he (he, alone) goes to DC for the test which shall not be named. No, not a stool sample.

The Foreign Service thing-a-ma-jobber. O to the A to the P-A-S-S to the razzley-dazzley score 6000. haha

I was up until 1:00 a.m. making bookmarks for everyone. Because I am crazy and I love them (kids, and husband, not bookmarks) and I want them not to have to continue memorizing what page they are on in a book. (How can they do that?) Happy Valentine's Day, my loves, here are 10 homemade bookmarks and some candy for each of you. Why the puzzled looks?
What else could they want? Bacon? Maple bacon?


I am off to take the dog to the vet for a check up. I need to walk him and hope he gives up a stool sample before the visit. Fun fun.

Yup, I'm still here!

I know, you thought I was living it up on the beaches of, oh, I don't know, California or Florida, but, I'm not. And I'm not gone from bloggy-land forever.

Here's all the "excitement" you missed. You missed me, right? Shh, don't answer that.

1. We are still in snowy-snow land.
2. I had a bit of a tough time approaching the big 4-0.
3. I turned 40 and, guess what? Everything didn't implode.
4. Two of my kids are WAAAYYY into gymnastics, between them we are at the gym every damn day.
5. Gymnastics is not cheap.
6. Middle school has been great for my oldest kid. He auditioned for and made the jazz band.
7. My husband is a Cubmaster. That is not a position held at the local zoo. It involves dealing with excited, incredibly energetic kids and sometimes unreasonable psychotic parents. Fun.
8. Being the Cubmaster takes a lot of time. Cubmaster's wife gets no respect.
9. My husband is still on the register for the PD cone, but too low to get called without a language.
10. Learning a language is not cheap and takes a lot of time. So we aren't doing that route now.
11. He takes the OA again in about a month. Come on big score.
12. Nobody knows about OA attempt #3. (Except you.) Not his family, not mine. Not our kids. (Feel special??)

That should get things started for now. I've got to get in the habit again. Get the pixels flowing.

Closing shop.

So I wanted to say farewell, at least for now.

The time has come for me to stop blogging.

Thanks so much for reading my ramblings.

Changes to State.gov

It seems they've changed up the website which describes the job of Foreign Service Officer.
My husband and I were just glancing at the site and he remarked, "Hey look at this. The description has changed from when I first applied 2 years ago."
This from State.gov:
Who We Look For

A career with the Foreign Service may appear glamorous: worldwide travel, government-paid housing, generous pay and benefits. In some instances, though, working as a Foreign Service Officer can be very challenging and sometimes dangerous. During this career you can expect to be assigned to hardship posts. These posts can be in remote locations, without many U.S.- style amenities; there can be sporadic power outages, unreliable internet service etc. Health and sanitation standards can be below U.S. standards. Some assignments are "unaccompanied," which means family members may not travel to the post with you.

That’s why it takes a special type of person to represent America abroad, to advance diplomatic initiatives to the benefit of both the U.S. and the host country. Serving as a U.S. diplomat requires fortitude, flexibility, the ability to adapt to changing situations, and cultures other than your own.

When hiring Foreign Service Officers, we look for motivated individuals with sound judgment and leadership abilities who can retain their composure in times of great stress — or even dire situations, like a military coup or a major environmental disaster.
Some of these positions are in danger or war zones and a good number involve sending officers without their families, who usually remain in the U.S. for the duration of the particular assignment.

Hardship posts are those where living conditions are considered more difficult than in the United States. Climate, isolation, civil unrest, quality of local health care, crime rate, pollution levels, and availability of spousal employment opportunities are some of the factors considered in determining which locations as designated as hardship posts.

We started laughing. A "special type of person." They want to make it clear. Special alrighty. No glamour. This is government work and your pay will be threatened to be cut weekly.

Then there was this beautiful description from Medical:

The Office of Medical Services of the Department of State determines a candidate's medical fitness and ability to serve overseas. Many Foreign Service posts are located in remote areas with extremely limited medical support; therefore, each candidate must meet rigorous medical standards in order to qualify for the required worldwide medical clearance….

….[the most isolated and restricted overseas] posts could feature extreme isolation in terms of limitations on reliable air service in and out of the country, unreliable Internet and telecommunications connections, and/or unreliable postal and delivery systems. Any of these limited services can have a severe adverse impact in terms of both bringing in required medical services and/or supplies, and/or permitting timely medical evacuations. Other infrastructure at such a post might also be inadequate. There might be a poor or negligible public health system, poor sanitation, unreliable electricity and a lack of potable water. There might also be infectious and communicable diseases, such as malaria, dengue fever, typhoid, tuberculosis, rabies, encephalitis and gastrointestinal diseases. There might be no health unit at the post and next to no local medical facilities. The emergency room, for example, might be completely inadequate, without ventilators, defibrillators, x-ray capabilities, etc. There often would be no blood bank or medical supplies or medications available locally. Because of political instability, security could be a concern.

Candidates should be aware that these posts are not few in number nor confined to a specific geographic region. Also, there are numerous other posts — in Asia and Europe for example — where conditions appear similar to that of the U.S. but which also feature some of these restrictive characteristics….

Awesome. Good thing I renewed by CPR/ First Aid and AED Training. I might be the village surgeon with my extensive 8 hour course training. Delivering babies, doing trachs with a bic pen.

So I added a bit of my own to State.gov, to keep it real: 
"You will eat bugs. And not by accident. You may have your eyes poked with sticks. Your testicles will be punctured. Your children will learn to carve bows and arrows and hunt their own dinner. You will fight with tigers (ahem). You will make cheese from squirrels' milk. You will have your house bombed by acorns. You will have diarrhea and cauliflower ear. You may lead a revolution. You may be forced to learn Danish and Dutch and German simultaneously. Your dog will know the command "duck and cover!" You will bathe with large, hairy spiders. This is no tea party! You'll have to host tea parties.  And don't think you're getting out of this without anti-depressants. Welcome to the club. Your pay is cut."


There should be a waiver at the bottom of the application process. 


"Circle if you are a damn fool. 

Yes. or No."

We circled "Yes." this morning and scheduled the OA. Damn fools.

The secret of our perseverence.

So, you all, out there on the other sides of your computer screens, know that we have been trying like crazy-cakes to get into the FS. I like to think that it's not pathetic, that we have gusto, guts, stick-to-it-iveness, that we are Troopers. That we are fighting for what we want. Because it hasn't been easy, peaches and cream, lolli-pops and oh, whatever is sweet and lovely. I fought the urge to write "hand-grenades", for some reason… anywhooo.

I hope I don't appear to be showcasing our very lameness for the world. Should I not tell the world that this is the third attempt?

We are not desperate. Not forelorn. Because we are not begging.

Oh No!

Although  I may have begged  on this very blog, on occasion, over the past 2-3 years, for Ms. Walton to pick up her phone and call… (yeah, I know, it's actually an email, pick up her… mouse, keyboard?, c'mon, folks!) But we do have a life here, with happily adjusted kids (even the middle schooler) and our friends and family actually know nothing about this whole FS quest being ongoing.

We haven't told either of our families that we are still pursuing the FS. Why get them all freaked out, again?

In fact, a neighbor said, "Remember last year, that whole FS thing? Whew, glad that's over. Glad our kids will get to grow up together and graduate from high school together."
Um, yeah. Me too. I sure do. love. it. here. (head tic)

It looks like without a CNL or SCNL, there might be no way to get called anyway. How do people afford that? Really? Heading off to Turkey? China? Should my husband quit his job? I mean really. Not gonna happen. Maybe a trip to China Palace for MaPo Tofu… MmmMmm.

QEP -- pass.

There, you read it.

My husband passed the QEP phase of the Foreign Service Officer selection process. So it's on to the Oral Assessments. (Again.) He has passed these steps twice before. Passed the OA twice before. Both times getting a 5.4 in PD. If you are reading this and have grrrrrreat study tips (hello, Tony the Tiger) pass em on. wandertrav@gmail.com Third time, we are hoping, is a charm.

In other news, I just had a five day migraine. Five! Days! Holy bozongas! I finally went to the doctor for a shot in the a** that took care of business. I was taking everything in the medicine cabinet but to no avail. My liver was saying, "What? More advil, and tylenol, and sudafed?! And immitrex." Feeling better now though. Tip top.

So, bring on the OA.

Bring. It. On.

See, it's easy for me to say, when I don't have to take it.

cnl or scnl?

Vulcan.

You be the judge.

CA-MRSA

Don't know that acronym? Well it's not related to the State Dept, that's why.

My dear little (big) boy started with a zit on his cheek. I thought, "Well, he is turning 11, I guess this starts happening now, pimples."

But it got bigger, and meaner and redder. And harder inside, after only a few days. I thought, "Oh man, he's got a bad one."

Then he said he had a spot on his index finger that hurt. And it got a pimple on it.

Fingers don't get zits.

Both developed quickly into boils that looked terrible, even after using warm compresses.

The doctor did a swab, put him on antibiotics and sent us home. The sore got way worse, like, horror show. The culture would take a few days to grow and each day, B got worse and worse. His finger was swollen and red and oozing. He got a third spot on his leg. He couldn't sleep, he was crying out in pain at night for three nights. We went to the doctor several times. We got tylenol with codeine for the pain. Finally the culture came back saying that he tested positive for MRSA. That's the kind of bacteria that doesn't respond to certain antibiotics. The CA means community acquired, as opposed to hospital acquired. The oral antibiotic was switched to one that would kick the crap out of this bacteria, a topical antibiotic was prescribed as well.

After a few days, B is finally doing better. whew.

He spent his 11th birthday at the doctor's office, changing bandages, oozing pus, (ewww) getting a shot, and yes, playing too many video games. Because I have mother's guilt. My poor kid.

What a way to spend a birthday.

But wait, we have some nice parting gifts back stage...

Tick de la tock-tock.

Candidacy numero uno has expired. Today, or tomorrow. Zap, gone, 18 months on the register.

Are there really no consolation prizes? 

Pots and pans? 

A Lazy Boy chair? 

A stylish hat? 

A year of ice cream? 

A ham? 

Matches? 

A smile?

Tamale, keeper of the register…anything? … speak to me… email, call me… 

I know, I must 

Chill out.

Candidacy Numero dos is still on the register and Numero tres is in the works. 

Shit. 

PNQs

Submitted.

Hm, he's never done that before.

Except for twice.

Now the wait.

Woodstock

We spent some time in Woodstock at my cousin's (second) house.

We played in the stream. Along with a mix of humanity in Woodstock. It's the local watering hole. Pictured here without kids all over it.

Woodstock is two hours north of New York City. It's beautiful, but an odd mix of hippies, wanna-be's and rich city folks looking for country houses and free-range eggs and organic produce.

We had fun visiting with my family. Even meeting some new people!

Mixed bag.

The results of the FSOT came in.

My score was passing. And my husband failed!

Got ya!

Just kidding.

It was the other way around.

He passed, flying colors!!

I, um, did not. But yippee for me for trying! Right?

Right. It's all good.

I'm happy.

Round three for him though. gosh. We should have just moved to Turkey or China or whatever to learn a language.

Summer vacation… bites.

Yesterday was the LAST DAY of school!!

Celebrate? Shall we? Screeeeech. Hold on.

What?

Today we kicked off summer Vac-ay discovering one of the three un-named lovelies has head lice.

LICE!

For the first time in my life, I am dealing with lice. (Go, on, scratch your head, you want to!)

Time to go rinse the lice shampoo off the head of one of these three kids. We all are getting treated, nit-combed and all bedding, stuffed animals, hats, everything, washed and dried at a million-degee temperature. I even jammed a huge stuffed tiger in there. Gotta love our large capacity front-loader.

On the first day of summer vacation.

Good joke, universe.

Safely home.

Our next door neighbor is back.

Yellow ribbon

We are awaiting our neighbor's return from overseas. He's been in Iraq with the Army for a year. His flight is supposed to get back in town in less than half an hour. His wife and two daughters have been keeping things together for a year. 

We have grown closer, our two families, during this year. My two boys have even become friends with the girls next door. I know, "Girls," ew. I think my boys sympathize with how hard it must be for the girls to have their dad gone for a year.

It will be a relief when he is home, safe, and the ribbon is off the tree. To look over and see him barbecuing, in his backyard. To wave, casually. "Hey, how's it going?"

I just hope he is here to stay. 

Kiddos galore.

My kids are each two years apart. All with summer birthdays. (Family, um, "planning" of a teacher?) So, some years we say it's an "even" year, like this past year. The kids were ages 6, 8 and 10. But we are switching back into an "odd" year. Get ready for the weirdness. The ages will be 7, 9 and 11. 

My son B. is leaving elementary school and this will be the last time the three kids will all be in the same school together. "Unless," as B. says, "we all go to the same college and I continue on for graduate school there." 

Ok, I appreciate your foresight, but let's just finish fifth grade first. Middle school, here he comes!

Here are a few pictures of the three kiddos doing kiddo-things. 

B. playing Ode to Joy on trombone.

S. demonstrating flipping skills. Newly acquired skills: back and front tuck, back layout.

S. playing Happy Birthday on violin. 

S. showing off his new age, while B. towers over. Always older, Bro. Always. 

C. attending a gymnastics meet. Aloha!