It may sound crazy, but reverse culture shock is a real phenomenon. I experienced it when I returned from China in ’97, and it is on my mind as we prepare for my husband’s homecoming from his deployment to Iraq.

The most peculiar outing that recall when I got back from China was going to the grocery store. Colored ketchup hit the market in full force while I was away, and I was dumbfounded by the condiment aisle. Honestly, who the h3ll needs PURPLE or GREEN ketchup? It’s marketed toward kids, but seriously – if a parent placates their kids’ whims to the point of ketchup color, then I feel for them when they have to put their foot down on really important issues. But, I digress.

At the grocery store in Jinan, the city where I lived and taught, you may or may not find ketchup when you go. It might be there one week, but the next week – tough luck. It either is, or it isn’t. If it is, then lucky you! You buy whatever red bottle you find, because you can’t read the label anyway, so it doesn’t matter what brand it is. If it isn’t there, then you just kick yourself for not buying two bottles last time and suck it up.

There were numerous other hiccups as I learned to re-acclimate myself – most of them positive, but all of them took some getting used to: different city sounds, AIR CONDITIONING, driving and catching myself in mid-sentence because I forgot what word I was about to say (yes, in English) come to mind as examples.

With the exception of a break at Thanksgiving and another one at Christmas before they left the States for Iraq, my husband has been away since early November. I do realize and appreciate the fact that even though it has been a long time, it hasn’t been as long as some other military families have endured, so I recognize their sacrifice. Still, much has happened in nine months. He missed the bulk of the school year and many of the routines that we instilled during that time. I’ve tried to keep him posted on the goings-on here at the homefront, but getting back in the swing of things in person may not be easy.

He’s used to sharing a CHU with one other guy and eating in a mess hall with dozens. What will it be like to be surrounded by five kids clamoring for attention and not getting made-to-order omelettes for breakfast? (I don’t believe that he’s loony enough to think he’ll be served a full breakfast every day, but it’s just an example.)

He’s used to a daily routine; this much is true, but it’s his routine. He hasn’t been responsible to get two kids to one camp, another kid to a different camp and the little two to preschool … all in the same commute. And that’s just one week, because next week, Nos. 1 & 2 might go to a different daycamp, while No. 3 goes back to the one he was at two weeks ago … you get the picture. This school year will be especially interesting, because we will have THREE campuses to cover. Everyone will be in “big school” this year, so that’s five backpacks to check, five homework folders to sign, five Meet-the-Teachers, five lunches &/or lunch $ to distribute, 25 sets of clothes to wash and set out (or monitor the setting out thereof) and five reasons to get out of bed for a drink/light/nightmare/just-one-more-hug.

And, let’s not forget that inevitable field trip tomorrow that the kid forgot to mention, so not only is his required class shirt dirty, but he also needs to pack a sack lunch, and you are out of bread.

Um, yeah – it will take some re-acclimating, I’m sure.

My oldest two sons went to their first boy-girl dance this summer at Operation Purple camp. I’m still getting over the shock that they are getting to the age of being interested in girls. I asked them how it went, and they described the typical junior high dance floor: boys on one side, girls on the other.

J. said, “I didn’t have the nerve to ask anyone, but he did!” and pointed to his brother.

A. just shrugged. I probed for more info and asked if she put her arms on his shoulders or how they danced, and he held his arms out in front of him to demonstrate: “We just held hands and kinda swayed like this.” I pictured the nice expanse of personal space bubble between them and felt relieved.

Then one of them turned to the other and said, “You know, next time, we should, like, pack a Polo shirt or something so we will look nice.” OMG – my boys care about their appearance?! When did this happen?

A week or so later, I learned from my mom that they also asked her advice about how to ask a girl to dance. They are determined to be prepared next time. 😉

My dad was in town visiting this week, and while I was telling him about the boys’ summer adventures, I mentioned the camp dance. A. walked in the room, and I bragged on him for being brave enough to ask a girl to dance. My dad teased him, “Well, did you kiss her?”

A. shot him a rolling-eyes look and said emphatically, “Paw Paw! I think that’s a bit out of line for a kid my age!”

I agreed and told him that he could continue thinking that way!!

I’ve heard the horror stories – the woeful tales of soldiers en route back home, only to be diverted and redirected to another deployment. I’ve heard of those who were nearing the end of their deployment, only to learn that their time was extended w/o a break to come home.

As bad as those scenarios sound, those stories always sounded far-off to me. Today, it hit too close to home. Today, the far-fetched doesn’t seem so unlikely.

When my husband first told me of the rumors that some folks were going home early from Iraq, we knew better than to get our hopes up – and especially not to tell the kids. I know of friends and friends of friends who’ve had soldiers return home early as part of the big “draw down” effort in Iraq, but until we knew something more concrete, we didn’t want to get our hopes up.

Well, apparently, even concrete shifts.

Part of me says that there’s nothing I can do about it, so it’s pointless to be mad, but another part of me is #)($&#* irritated that I dared to get my hopes up. I’m sad that we got the kids’ hopes up, too, and I’m going to have to be the one to let them down. I’m frustrated that we made reservations for a family vacation before school starts, and they are excited about going.

Sigh.

Why even tell the soldiers that they’re coming home, if the Army is going to tell them two days before they go to the airfield (he’s already been packing and has probably already sent some belongings home in the mail that he said wouldn’t fit in his bag) that they are being delayed indefinitely?

Oh, by the way – we were kidding about the going home early thing. Not only is your flight canceled this week, but you might not be going home early at all. Come to think of it, you might not even get to take your leave time that was originally scheduled for late August, anyway, because you are most likely (he says “high 90s” percentage chance) being relocated to Afghanistan for the remainder of your tour.

And people wonder why soldiers come home with PTSD, among myriad other behavioral health issues?!

Explain that one to me, Mr. Commander in Chief – is that how you plan to “draw down” forces in Iraq … by relocating them to #)($&@^%* Afghanistan?!?!?!?!?! What the heck is that all about?

*deep breath*

I could tell something was wrong in his voice. I actually thought someone had died, the way he spoke so solemnly. I don’t have the heart to tell the kids yet. I guess I’ll wait for another chunk of concrete to break off.

The 5yos were on a creative spree in the car this morning, and they shared some ideas about what jobs and cars they would like to have when they grow up. I’ll try to paraphrase, as best I can recall:

Ry: “When I grow up, I’m going to have a limo and paint it gold. It’s gonna have pirates – no, skulls – painted on it. And also fire-flames.”

Ri: “I’m going to buy a Traverse just like yours, only it won’t be the same color, and the seats will be different, and it’ll be bigger.”

Ry: “I’m going to be an artist and a builder-man and play a ‘lectric guitar.”

Ri: “I’m going to be a concert singer.”

I said to both of them, “That sounds neat, but I thought you wanted to go into the Army.”

Ri answered, “Yeah, I’m gonna do that, too.”