Safe At Home!

Early outs are definitely out of the ordinary at West Point. Unlike at other schools, where you skip class at will and go home (or wherever) whenever you feel like it, at West Point you stay till the bitter end. But M is participating in the CPRC program this holiday, which means...early out! Sorta.

He will be at home all week, plus the two weekends, but a lot of that time still belongs to West Point, and he will be busy with a lot of PR things: a tv interview, a radio interview, and high school presentations on Monday; more high school things and candidate physical fitness assessments on Tuesday; meeting with interested homeschooled students on Wednesday.

After that he is all ours, until dark and early Sunday morning, when he will get back on the plane to West Point for a speech from POTUS, West Point's traditional Xmas party, the legendary Army/Navy football game...All while wrapping up classes, finishing end-of-semester projects, and, of course *participating* in the TEE's. It's a busy life, that of a West Point cadet.

And now...Only three weeks until he's home for Christmas!

Just Another Day At West Point

West Point offers no end of opportunity, and M takes every possible advantage. He stays stretched to the limit. Until he takes on something new. Then he stretches just a l-i-t-t-l-e bit more.

Every day starts dark and early for him. Formation and duties and whatever all they have to do, then breakfast, and classes, which for him start immediately after breakfast. Tuesday offered up a few extras:

• Lunch with Walker, Texas Ranger, aka Chuck Norris. West Point habitually plays host to hosts of heavy hitters, and you just never know who is going to show up to join the cadets for a lunch of luscious lasagna. Yum! Good food and good company.
  
• An afternoon of packing with one hand while talking on the phone with the other, tracking down all manner of trivia and other obscurities in order to fill in the blanks on 82 pages of questions in the quest for a Top Secret Clearance which he will need for his internship next summer.
  
• And then a sprint to catch the bus with the rest of the debate team headed for the airport to get on a flight to Merrie Olde Englande.

My last word from M, right after "Boarding, boarding, boarding," was a txt msg saying, "The guy sitting next to me is a Russian. Cooooollll!" M's language is Russian, so, knowing M, I'm sure he spent the next couple of hours practicing on his captive audience. I was rather hoping he would get some sleep, but sleep is the one opportunity of which the cadets are chronically deprived. Well...there will be sleeping enough in the grave...

One thing about West Point: It never lets schooling interfere with education.

Eat My His Dust

M is waaaay ahead of me when it comes to....well, pretty much everything.

• He has met a famous person or two in this last year: H. Ross Perot, the president of Tanzania (or someplace like that), Frankie Valli, President Dubya. And while not exactly meeting current President Obummer, he had the privilege and honor of being ignored marching in his inaugural parade.
  
• He has participated in debate tournaments against Harvard and Princeton and any number of other Ivy League bastions of liberalism, as well as the Model United Nations conference in Washington D.C.
• He has become an international traveler. Israel over the summer...Oxford, England coming up in a couple of weeks...hints of exotic promises for next summer...and, of course, "The City."
• He is learning all sorts of new skills: Riding the trains, figuring out the shuttle bus schedules, driving 15-passenger vans in wintry weather, organizing trips, hacking into secret computers, becoming a nationally and New York state certified EMT.
• As of yesterday, he is an academically-recognized, star-studded cadet.

Anything else? Probably. But right now I can't think of another thing. Maybe after I get through choking on his dust...

What's The Problem?

West Point is a college like no other. One basic difference is that at West Point, no matter what your degree plan or major might be, Military Science is a required course.

One morning in said Military Science class, the teacher rounded up a few volunteers, each of which was outfitted with an M-16 and instructed to go outside.

While the cadets sat by the side of the road awaiting further orders, people were going by on their early morning way to work. Picture driving down the road, suddenly coming across five young men sitting on a pile of rocks, armed with M-16's. Hmmm...no one showed the slightest concern, until a Major happened along and inquired, "What are you guys doing?"

"It's for MS, Sir," they replied.

"Oh, ok. Carry on, then."

And that was that.

Unlike at any other school, where the mere suggestion of a weapon calls for wholesale fear and instant chaos, this morning, at this school, no cops were called. No *lockdown* was initiated. And nothing untoward happened.

Kinda makes one wonder, doesn't it...? Could it just possibly be, that guns aren't really the problem???

WP Fans

One month ago I was a visitor in a singing class. I was going to my seat when this cute little old man enthusiastically addressed me, "You have a son in his second year at West Point!"

Never having set eyes on this man before I was slightly taken aback, but M is Personality personified, and having spent two years on the local college debate circle, he has all sorts of friends in all sorts of places, and it was entirely likely that this little grandpa might be one of them.

"Do you know him?" I gasped in surprise.

"No," he replied, pointing at me, "I read it on your shirt." I looked down to see I was wearing my West Point Mom, Class of 2012 t-shirt. Well, duh...

You just never know where you are going to meet a West Point fan. . .

WAAAAAH Burger and French Cries, Part 2

I am finally used to this West Point Mom thing. Or so I keep telling myself.

I'm ok with my baby off at the nation's #1 college, pursuing his calling. I'm ok with him adventuring not only halfway across the country, but halfway across the world, in Israel, of all places, safe in the company of the IDF. I'm ok with only occasional phone calls. Or so I keep telling myself.

But this weekend I was feeling bereft. Bereft-er than usual. It was like Beast again. Incommunicado, and with lots to worry about. He normally rents quite a bit of space in my head, but the combination of several things had rather caused me to worry this time.

M was sick this weekend, all alone, all by himself up there at West Point, though thanks to the Stalker Mom, he was well-equipped with chicken rice soup, which he pronounced "glorious."

M had swine flu, they said. After two days in his bed, he made it to the doctor where he was medicated and masked and isolated/quarantined in a place with no internet and no phone service. But I was thankful he would be watched and fed. After a few days in there, he was released and now, a couple of days later, he is back in business.

Just in time to have surgery tomorrow for a deviated septum, caused by the broken nose suffered in his evil boxing class last year. Well, at least the hospital has internet access.

This long-distance mothering is for the birds. But thank God for IM-ing and txt-ing, and email . And thank God for the West Point Moms (and Dads) support system.