I wasn't planning on writing today. The general theme on the web seems to be "where was I that day." Maybe I'll tell that story next year. Just thinking back on it breaks my heart/ makes me want to vomit. So I will tell you about September 12th, 2002- the day after the first anniversary of the day I lost my uncle and many friends of our family when those towers came crashing down.
I was still in the Army. I skipped the mandatory 9/11 memorial ceremony held by the post. I had no intention of mourning those I lost in front of an audience. A soldier in my company was brought to my office that morning by her Drill Sergeant. She was in tears because her boyfriend was killed in Tower #1 (I think he was a fireman, but can't be totally sure). Either way, she said she couldn't handle the memorial ceremony. I told her DS to put her and a battle buddy on barracks guard, and that I would explain it to anyone who had a problem with it. I spent the hour of the ceremony moping. Then I had to pull myself together and go to a meeting.
September 11, 2002 was a blur. I went home and went to bed early.
On September 12th, I decided to clear my head and go for a nice 8 mile run. Yes, I considered that a nice run at the time. My Battalion XO decided not to join me that particular day. I spent the next hour alone with the pavement and the scenery. I had the opportunity to reflect on all the things that had happened since last fall. The war. My job. The service for my uncle that wasn't quite a funeral, because they never found his remains.
As I thought about my uncle, I realized that he was probably one of those people who lived out his belief that family was more important and that happy moments should be cherished. Yes, he worked in Manhattan and was probably busy. He also coached and volunteered and took his daughters to hockey games. He was a guy who loved his family and friends and spent time with them. But just like that, he was gone.
Well, what about me? I was working 14 hour weekdays, with 6-8 hour days on Saturday and frequent middle of the night phone calls. If I was killed tomorrow, what would my kids remember about me? That I was gone all the time? That I was too tired to read stories at night? That I had to leave my son's birthday party because a soldier passed out in formation because said soldier failed to drink water while on pass? If I stayed in the Army (my plan at the time), would these things get better or worse?
The answer, to me, was obvious. I could quit on the Army, but not on my kids. So I did. I turned down my dream assignment to follow a path that I felt my uncle helped point me towards. So when I am here for school pick up and drop off, when I pack a kid's lunch and then drive the lunch to school after it is forgotten, my kids have the great-uncle that they don't remember to thank for it.
I guess that is as close to a happy ending as this kind of story can get. I am here with my children, not in Iraq and not in Afghanistan. I have six fantastic and rambunctious kids. I still miss my uncle very much, and am grateful for his life and how he lived it. I sure he is happy to have been an example for me, to keep my focus on the things that truly matter and are all too fleeting.
11 September 2011
21 August 2011
I hate being right so often
Call it the other curse of womanhood.
I hate being right sometimes. Especially when it comes to my children and predicting their behavior.
The Saga of Completing the Summer Assignments is still ongoing. School starts in one week. #*%!
Of course, as the mom of six, you can imagine that my schedule is just wide open happiness- all sunshine and roses.... um, no. I think I have a free half hour on Monday, but that is only if none of the other things make me run late. There is new student orientation, robotics camp (because NO ONE likes #2 after twelve weeks of vacation, and he doesn't like them either), boy scout pack checks and campouts, tutoring, ballet, tap, playdates and hopefully a day or two to work on my sunburn before the pool closes.
I HATE being in a crunch when it comes to the peeps. I can procrastinate on my own things and catch up, but my herd is almost an immoveable object. There is no hurrying those people. I guess "hurry up" translates into kidspeak as "take off your shoes go get a drink announce that you need to poop hit your sister til she cries."
So school supplies are already purchased, sorted and labeled. Ditto for shoes, uniforms, etc. The only thing I failed to get them to do on my timeline was their mother-loving homework. It is somewhere between herding turtles and chasing chickens. The kid I catch will usually refuse to work and will instead sit there contemplating life's great mysteries (such as: what is 9-4?) for hours until Mommy has to pee or find the owner of the screaming coming from the basement.
The nanosecond Mommy is out of sight- poof- he's outta there!
Why can't they move that fast when I am trying to leave the house? Maybe I'll suggest that we do homework right before I need to leave and they'll just head to the car instead?
For better or worse, school starts next Monday. Maybe I can make up for failure to get summer work done by not being late the first day.
I hate being right sometimes. Especially when it comes to my children and predicting their behavior.
The Saga of Completing the Summer Assignments is still ongoing. School starts in one week. #*%!
Of course, as the mom of six, you can imagine that my schedule is just wide open happiness- all sunshine and roses.... um, no. I think I have a free half hour on Monday, but that is only if none of the other things make me run late. There is new student orientation, robotics camp (because NO ONE likes #2 after twelve weeks of vacation, and he doesn't like them either), boy scout pack checks and campouts, tutoring, ballet, tap, playdates and hopefully a day or two to work on my sunburn before the pool closes.
I HATE being in a crunch when it comes to the peeps. I can procrastinate on my own things and catch up, but my herd is almost an immoveable object. There is no hurrying those people. I guess "hurry up" translates into kidspeak as "take off your shoes go get a drink announce that you need to poop hit your sister til she cries."
So school supplies are already purchased, sorted and labeled. Ditto for shoes, uniforms, etc. The only thing I failed to get them to do on my timeline was their mother-loving homework. It is somewhere between herding turtles and chasing chickens. The kid I catch will usually refuse to work and will instead sit there contemplating life's great mysteries (such as: what is 9-4?) for hours until Mommy has to pee or find the owner of the screaming coming from the basement.
The nanosecond Mommy is out of sight- poof- he's outta there!
Why can't they move that fast when I am trying to leave the house? Maybe I'll suggest that we do homework right before I need to leave and they'll just head to the car instead?
For better or worse, school starts next Monday. Maybe I can make up for failure to get summer work done by not being late the first day.
17 August 2011
How I Spent my Summer (or "Why #4 might possibly fail Kindergarten")
I so wish all my kids had to do was write some lame-o essay about what they did this summer. The school they will attend in 10 days (but who's counting?) has Summer Enrichment Packets. Yup, just in case you and the kids can't come up with anything else to fight about, there's HOMEWORK. Crap.
I can sort of understand why they do it- my kids have been out of school for about 12 weeks. But, when I was kid (sidenote: that phrase is a SURE sign of aging, even more so than crow's feet), we didn't have summer enrichment. Sure, my high school made us read 3 books a summer, but that pales in comparison to the envelope of suffering I received in the mail. I know, we are "preventing Summer Slide." Of course, our little rocket scientists are going to forget everything over three months of vacation. The solution? SHORTER SUMMER VACATION. If we spread the vacation days out, we wouldn't spend the first month of school re-hashing the last grade. And I really like three day weekends. Y'know?
Back to my surprise gift from the school....
One envelope per school age kid. That's four envelopes. The older two boys received math workbooks (!!!) to complete. 30 lessons per book. Did I mention I didn't receive these gems until mid-July because we just. moved. here? And then there are the two book reports #2 has to write, and the 3 essays and six paragraphs #1 has to write. #3 has a book "report" form to fill out, a book log to keep (right....because I've been tracking that), and a packet of math worksheets (30 pages-ish) to complete.
I still had one envelope to open and I needed a drink. But #4 is only going into Kindergarten. This should be okay. Coloring, letters, stuff like that, right? No. Not even close. Better get out the wine, sister, because your summer fun is OVER. Like right now.
#4 has a PACKET of work to complete. Writing the alphabet and her name (thank God I gave her a short name), writing the colors three times in the correct colors (and without opening the new crayons because then they will disappear before school), counting the cans in my pantry, cutting shapes out of magazines, making a chart, reading logs and more. OY VEY! The kicker was the cover letter closed with a wish for us to "Have Fun!" completing their packet of torment.
At this point, I want to call the teachers and explain to them that I have SIX kids, four of whom suddenly have summer homework, and ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?!?!
Deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. Take a drink. Repeat.
#4's packet also has a grading rubric. Did I mention that the 8th grader doesn't have a grading rubric?
Here is where I flunk mommy-hood.
I have actually read the rubric to find out how much work she MUST do to not get an unsatisfactory. For example, finding and naming 4 of the 6 assigned shapes is "satisfactory". Awesome. This would be the continuation of my college's mantra "C's for completed; D is for done." So we are no longer "doing our best" this summer; I have down shifted to "doing what we must" and "surely they are going to teach you some of this stuff during the year?"
Unfortunately, I MUST get her a library card. Failure to do so will get #4 an Unsatisfactory. Really? Aren't the teachers really grading me, since #4 can't drive or fill out the forms? And seriously, I may move next summer and I will only lose the damn thing, so why oh why are you making me go BACK to the customer service desk of the library to get a card that #4 will never use? Will they keep #6 from scaring the bejeezus out of the library's frog by banging on the glass while I try to get said card? Or maybe keep #5 from chasing #4 around the children's section? Sigh.
We are almost done. Still need to edit #1's stuff, #2 needs to draw some pictures about his books. #3 is going to go down to the wire, as is #4. I hope there isn't any homework on the first day. I think I'll already be tired.
I can sort of understand why they do it- my kids have been out of school for about 12 weeks. But, when I was kid (sidenote: that phrase is a SURE sign of aging, even more so than crow's feet), we didn't have summer enrichment. Sure, my high school made us read 3 books a summer, but that pales in comparison to the envelope of suffering I received in the mail. I know, we are "preventing Summer Slide." Of course, our little rocket scientists are going to forget everything over three months of vacation. The solution? SHORTER SUMMER VACATION. If we spread the vacation days out, we wouldn't spend the first month of school re-hashing the last grade. And I really like three day weekends. Y'know?
Back to my surprise gift from the school....
One envelope per school age kid. That's four envelopes. The older two boys received math workbooks (!!!) to complete. 30 lessons per book. Did I mention I didn't receive these gems until mid-July because we just. moved. here? And then there are the two book reports #2 has to write, and the 3 essays and six paragraphs #1 has to write. #3 has a book "report" form to fill out, a book log to keep (right....because I've been tracking that), and a packet of math worksheets (30 pages-ish) to complete.
I still had one envelope to open and I needed a drink. But #4 is only going into Kindergarten. This should be okay. Coloring, letters, stuff like that, right? No. Not even close. Better get out the wine, sister, because your summer fun is OVER. Like right now.
#4 has a PACKET of work to complete. Writing the alphabet and her name (thank God I gave her a short name), writing the colors three times in the correct colors (and without opening the new crayons because then they will disappear before school), counting the cans in my pantry, cutting shapes out of magazines, making a chart, reading logs and more. OY VEY! The kicker was the cover letter closed with a wish for us to "Have Fun!" completing their packet of torment.
At this point, I want to call the teachers and explain to them that I have SIX kids, four of whom suddenly have summer homework, and ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?!?!
Deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. Take a drink. Repeat.
#4's packet also has a grading rubric. Did I mention that the 8th grader doesn't have a grading rubric?
Here is where I flunk mommy-hood.
I have actually read the rubric to find out how much work she MUST do to not get an unsatisfactory. For example, finding and naming 4 of the 6 assigned shapes is "satisfactory". Awesome. This would be the continuation of my college's mantra "C's for completed; D is for done." So we are no longer "doing our best" this summer; I have down shifted to "doing what we must" and "surely they are going to teach you some of this stuff during the year?"
Unfortunately, I MUST get her a library card. Failure to do so will get #4 an Unsatisfactory. Really? Aren't the teachers really grading me, since #4 can't drive or fill out the forms? And seriously, I may move next summer and I will only lose the damn thing, so why oh why are you making me go BACK to the customer service desk of the library to get a card that #4 will never use? Will they keep #6 from scaring the bejeezus out of the library's frog by banging on the glass while I try to get said card? Or maybe keep #5 from chasing #4 around the children's section? Sigh.
We are almost done. Still need to edit #1's stuff, #2 needs to draw some pictures about his books. #3 is going to go down to the wire, as is #4. I hope there isn't any homework on the first day. I think I'll already be tired.
16 August 2011
At long last, have we no sense of decency?
So it seems that we are going to have an election next year. I am going to have to go into pre-election news black-out at the earliest point ever. And, for the first time, I may include a Facebook blackout.
I love to follow current events and political matters. I feel it is my duty as a citizen and it is more interesting than "the Cat in the Hat knows a lot about that". I can't even believe the level of vitriol we've reached when we are still fifteen months away from voting. I worry about our nation's soul, especially when Great Britain seems to be coming apart at the seams and London is doing a great impression of a Third World city. What the hell is going on?
Members of one political party labeling a fair-sized group of Americans (as well as some of their Congressional colleagues) as "terrorists"? Name calling...that's so fourth grade. True confession- I have been known to refer to certain persons as "socialists", but unlike "terrorist", it is the name for a proponent of a political/ economic system. Might I add that Bernie Sanders (VT) wears it with pride. Terrorists try to achieve their goals through intimidation and violence while creating a climate of fear that weakens resistance to them and their aims. Sounds more like the rioters in London than Senator Rubio, no? Aren't there enough people elsewhere that wish us as a nation harm? Do we have to turn on each other?
I really try to think things through. I try to apply reason before deciding on things, though my faith and life experiences will be the lens through which I perceive the world. I really like our Constitution; I think the founders did a bang-up job. I am wary of ideas that may have the unintended consequence of limiting freedoms guaranteed by that document. I enjoy hearing different viewpoints, especially from other people whom I believe think carefully about their opinions.
I am therefore dismayed when I see people on Facebook write the equivalent of "If you don't agree with me, you can't be my friend." Wow. Really? I am also surprised at how frequently I see it. I rather enjoy having friends who are not in lock-step agreement with me. I really think it enriches my life. But the lack of "tolerance" for differing opinions makes me sad. And tolerance is not a one-way street. I would love to see mutual respect flow from left to right and back again. What exactly are we teaching our children? That we are only friends with people who think just like we do? Apply that notion to skin color or religion instead of politics, and consider what that says about us as a nation.
We live in conflicted times. I hope we find our way back to living with kindness and charity towards our fellow man. I wonder if I'll have any Facebook friends left by then.
I love to follow current events and political matters. I feel it is my duty as a citizen and it is more interesting than "the Cat in the Hat knows a lot about that". I can't even believe the level of vitriol we've reached when we are still fifteen months away from voting. I worry about our nation's soul, especially when Great Britain seems to be coming apart at the seams and London is doing a great impression of a Third World city. What the hell is going on?
Members of one political party labeling a fair-sized group of Americans (as well as some of their Congressional colleagues) as "terrorists"? Name calling...that's so fourth grade. True confession- I have been known to refer to certain persons as "socialists", but unlike "terrorist", it is the name for a proponent of a political/ economic system. Might I add that Bernie Sanders (VT) wears it with pride. Terrorists try to achieve their goals through intimidation and violence while creating a climate of fear that weakens resistance to them and their aims. Sounds more like the rioters in London than Senator Rubio, no? Aren't there enough people elsewhere that wish us as a nation harm? Do we have to turn on each other?
I really try to think things through. I try to apply reason before deciding on things, though my faith and life experiences will be the lens through which I perceive the world. I really like our Constitution; I think the founders did a bang-up job. I am wary of ideas that may have the unintended consequence of limiting freedoms guaranteed by that document. I enjoy hearing different viewpoints, especially from other people whom I believe think carefully about their opinions.
I am therefore dismayed when I see people on Facebook write the equivalent of "If you don't agree with me, you can't be my friend." Wow. Really? I am also surprised at how frequently I see it. I rather enjoy having friends who are not in lock-step agreement with me. I really think it enriches my life. But the lack of "tolerance" for differing opinions makes me sad. And tolerance is not a one-way street. I would love to see mutual respect flow from left to right and back again. What exactly are we teaching our children? That we are only friends with people who think just like we do? Apply that notion to skin color or religion instead of politics, and consider what that says about us as a nation.
We live in conflicted times. I hope we find our way back to living with kindness and charity towards our fellow man. I wonder if I'll have any Facebook friends left by then.
03 August 2011
School uniforms are NOT cheaper- at least not in No. VA
I realizing that NOTHING is probably cheaper in Northern VA, but seriously- what a racket the uniform company has. I think they provide uniforms for most of the Catholic schools up here. The size of their business is NOT reflected in their prices. HOLY COW!!! So much for the line of thought that buying uniforms is less expensive than purchasing regular clothes.
So I brought five of the kids (oldest still gone- hope his stuff fits) to order uniforms this morning. I was concerned how this was going to work out. Normally, taking my people ANYWHERE that requires me to concentrate or talk to another person is a huge mistake. Today, I took them on a errand to order multiple items in multiple sizes while other people were also trying to order their stuff before their kids lost it completely. I had two cups of coffee to prepare myself and managed to refrain from adding Baileys to said drinks.
I was really hopeful that this would be well organized (or at least somewhat organized) to handle the traffic flow. Maybe I was in the Army too long and expect too much. Maybe I am just delusional. I might have been hoping for something akin to an Army issue point, but what I saw was closer to Walmart on Black Friday. Okay, so no one was trampled to death. Maybe more like Black Friday at Kohls. It was not particularly orderly, and rather frustrating for those of us who were new to the school (and uniform).
I am so glad I managed to procure some uniforms on the second-hand market, because I think I would have had to give them my first-born otherwise. Really, the jumper for Kindergarteners is over $35??? Even if I didn't have 4 kids that needed uniforms, that seems a tad high. Not to mention the shoes...
Shoes? What's that? You didn't know that there were uniform shoes? Oh, yes indeed. Not to miss an opportunity for sales, there are UNIFORM shoes. Hell, the Army gives you more shoe options than my kids have. The shoes are oxfords, black and clunky and ugly. Even my daughter, #4, has to wear them. She will be heartbroken, since she seems to have my passion for shoes. I was picturing a sweet little pair of Mary Janes.... sigh. But the real awesome part of "uniform" black oxford shoes is their price. $40 for kid sizes, $75 for adult sizes. And since #1 now has man feet, he would need the $75 shoes.
Let's be clear (to borrow a phrase). If anyone is getting $75 shoes around here, it will be me. And they will be high heeled beauties that make me feel like a goddess. Not hideous oxfords for a 13-year-old boy who is liable to outgrow them any second.
So, like any good parent with 6 kids, I took a picture of the shoes with my phone and will head to the shoe store. I think they sell the exact same one for about $25. And if I time it right, I'll catch one of those buy one, get one half off sales.
And then I'll buy some smoking hot heels with all the money I saved ;)
So I brought five of the kids (oldest still gone- hope his stuff fits) to order uniforms this morning. I was concerned how this was going to work out. Normally, taking my people ANYWHERE that requires me to concentrate or talk to another person is a huge mistake. Today, I took them on a errand to order multiple items in multiple sizes while other people were also trying to order their stuff before their kids lost it completely. I had two cups of coffee to prepare myself and managed to refrain from adding Baileys to said drinks.
I was really hopeful that this would be well organized (or at least somewhat organized) to handle the traffic flow. Maybe I was in the Army too long and expect too much. Maybe I am just delusional. I might have been hoping for something akin to an Army issue point, but what I saw was closer to Walmart on Black Friday. Okay, so no one was trampled to death. Maybe more like Black Friday at Kohls. It was not particularly orderly, and rather frustrating for those of us who were new to the school (and uniform).
I am so glad I managed to procure some uniforms on the second-hand market, because I think I would have had to give them my first-born otherwise. Really, the jumper for Kindergarteners is over $35??? Even if I didn't have 4 kids that needed uniforms, that seems a tad high. Not to mention the shoes...
Shoes? What's that? You didn't know that there were uniform shoes? Oh, yes indeed. Not to miss an opportunity for sales, there are UNIFORM shoes. Hell, the Army gives you more shoe options than my kids have. The shoes are oxfords, black and clunky and ugly. Even my daughter, #4, has to wear them. She will be heartbroken, since she seems to have my passion for shoes. I was picturing a sweet little pair of Mary Janes.... sigh. But the real awesome part of "uniform" black oxford shoes is their price. $40 for kid sizes, $75 for adult sizes. And since #1 now has man feet, he would need the $75 shoes.
Let's be clear (to borrow a phrase). If anyone is getting $75 shoes around here, it will be me. And they will be high heeled beauties that make me feel like a goddess. Not hideous oxfords for a 13-year-old boy who is liable to outgrow them any second.
So, like any good parent with 6 kids, I took a picture of the shoes with my phone and will head to the shoe store. I think they sell the exact same one for about $25. And if I time it right, I'll catch one of those buy one, get one half off sales.
And then I'll buy some smoking hot heels with all the money I saved ;)
02 August 2011
Adventures in parenting- cleaning out the family van
Enough was enough.... I could barely see the carpet through the crushed goldfish. So I manned (womanned?) up and got out the vacuum. EW EW EW EW EWWWWWW!
During my cleaning, I found a stuffed cat covered in chalk, a barbie, a stuffed raccoon, 4 happy meal toys, that floatie I've been looking for, a book and a DVD. My tip was 8 cents, in the form of a nickel and 3 pennies. I also found an empty milk bottle, 1 empty caprisun, 4 sour gummy worms (all with a bite off of them), and 2 peppermints (1 stuck to floor, one stuck inside cup holder). What would an archeologist think of my family if my van was discovered in a thousand years???
I moved all the car seats (4 of them), took them out of the van, turned them upside down and shook them, and THEN vacuumed them out. HOLY SMOKES! I had no idea that my baby's carseat was really a biohazard waiting to happen. How does one even get that many goldfish and cheezits in the space by the straps? Why are some of them moist? Should I wash the car seat too? No, have to pickup #2 from camp at noon. Cushion doesn't smell funny, it's probably okay until tomorrow (or next week).
Repeat sequence for other car seat. Move on to boosters- have to be better, right? Nope-ety, nope. #3's cup holder in his seat is encrusted with, well, something. Time to get the all-purpose cleaner and a scrub brush. I am now WAY past the 15 minutes I allocated for this task. And I think I may need a shower.
I grabbed the windex while I was in the house. Might as well clean off the car-window-finger art that my children make. It is very hard to see through it. Good Lord, what IS THIS? Ewww, and there is brown something in a spray pattern on the trim. I guess it was juice at some point. SIGH. Back to the scrub brush and cleaner.
At this point, my absence was noticed by all the people. Thankfully, only two stayed outside to "help". They decided that the rows of seats in the van made a great obstacle course. Now I am trying to clean around crawling and climbing kids. It is enough to make me start a "No eating in the van" policy. But we all now that is unrealistic. It only lasts until I am running late and a child "forgets" to eat breakfast and is handed a granola bar instead.
Time to refasten the car seats. This is when I like to try new seating arrangements. I am always trying to find the seating order which results in the least fighting. Never mind that I drive a 12 passenger party van, so really, there isn't anything to fight over. Plenty of space for all, with a DVD player to boot. They still manage to argue; my new favorite is "He's taking all the air-conditioning...." Oh, brother.
This time, I am trying out the youngest two in the front, #3 and #4 in the middle, and oldest two in the back. Of course, #1 is at scout camp, so we aren't getting the full effect yet. I'll keep you posted. The only one who hasn't complained so far is the baby. Luckily for them, a goldfish was dropped and ground into oblivion on the carpet this morning, so another vacuuming is already on the horizon.
Maybe I can pay my oldest to do it.....
During my cleaning, I found a stuffed cat covered in chalk, a barbie, a stuffed raccoon, 4 happy meal toys, that floatie I've been looking for, a book and a DVD. My tip was 8 cents, in the form of a nickel and 3 pennies. I also found an empty milk bottle, 1 empty caprisun, 4 sour gummy worms (all with a bite off of them), and 2 peppermints (1 stuck to floor, one stuck inside cup holder). What would an archeologist think of my family if my van was discovered in a thousand years???
I moved all the car seats (4 of them), took them out of the van, turned them upside down and shook them, and THEN vacuumed them out. HOLY SMOKES! I had no idea that my baby's carseat was really a biohazard waiting to happen. How does one even get that many goldfish and cheezits in the space by the straps? Why are some of them moist? Should I wash the car seat too? No, have to pickup #2 from camp at noon. Cushion doesn't smell funny, it's probably okay until tomorrow (or next week).
Repeat sequence for other car seat. Move on to boosters- have to be better, right? Nope-ety, nope. #3's cup holder in his seat is encrusted with, well, something. Time to get the all-purpose cleaner and a scrub brush. I am now WAY past the 15 minutes I allocated for this task. And I think I may need a shower.
I grabbed the windex while I was in the house. Might as well clean off the car-window-finger art that my children make. It is very hard to see through it. Good Lord, what IS THIS? Ewww, and there is brown something in a spray pattern on the trim. I guess it was juice at some point. SIGH. Back to the scrub brush and cleaner.
At this point, my absence was noticed by all the people. Thankfully, only two stayed outside to "help". They decided that the rows of seats in the van made a great obstacle course. Now I am trying to clean around crawling and climbing kids. It is enough to make me start a "No eating in the van" policy. But we all now that is unrealistic. It only lasts until I am running late and a child "forgets" to eat breakfast and is handed a granola bar instead.
Time to refasten the car seats. This is when I like to try new seating arrangements. I am always trying to find the seating order which results in the least fighting. Never mind that I drive a 12 passenger party van, so really, there isn't anything to fight over. Plenty of space for all, with a DVD player to boot. They still manage to argue; my new favorite is "He's taking all the air-conditioning...." Oh, brother.
This time, I am trying out the youngest two in the front, #3 and #4 in the middle, and oldest two in the back. Of course, #1 is at scout camp, so we aren't getting the full effect yet. I'll keep you posted. The only one who hasn't complained so far is the baby. Luckily for them, a goldfish was dropped and ground into oblivion on the carpet this morning, so another vacuuming is already on the horizon.
Maybe I can pay my oldest to do it.....
31 July 2011
The joys of renting (and living with other people's attempts at interior design)
I have been in the house 90 days- threshold has been crossed. We have lived here long enough that there is noticeable dust on my furniture. I have been a busy girl since we moved here, aside from unpacking and child herding. I have repainted, because most of the colors were gawd-awful. White entryway, too light green kitchen, yucky yellow bathroom and bedroom, too dark blue bathroom...need I go on? It is now warm and cozy and homey. :) At least for the next year or so.
House hunting around here was down right hysterical. Some of the homes are circa 1970s and have the wallpaper to prove it. If I saw terrible wallpaper on line, sometimes I just ruled the house out completely. But the best was when people clearly tried to do what the designers do on HGTV, but failed. Next move, I'll take pics of the champion designs, so to speak, and post them here.
I have adapted to some of the, er, interesting decorative features of the house. Like the half-wall wood panelling in the family room. Or the full-on wood panelling in the basement rec room, nicely complimented by carpet that is the color (and almost the texture) of a Brillo pad. Then there was the carpet in the master bath, which was ripped out the day after I signed the lease. I assume those things were done many years ago, when it seemed like a good idea, not necessarily to achieve a design scheme.
But then there is the Tuscan Room.
Our dining room is faux-finished in a deep reddish-goldish color (sponged). Faux-finishes are WAY out of date. But the owners love it, because they painted it, so ALL the tenants must keep it. Um, seriously? You don't live here. And how the hell am I supposed to cover up those nail holes? I guess I am not, and that is why there are a dozen nails/ screws still in the wall. I did use my art work to hide the worst of them.
Then the light fixture is a cut glass chandelier. Awfully formal for my pub height, slate top table.
This room goes with pretty much nothing that I own. (Hmm. No wait, there is that one water color of Venice that we own.) It actually looks okay now, I found the most complementary wall hangings I had. And the room color seems less obnoxious, because I made sure all the downstairs paint colors work with the Tuscan Room. Before, the other rooms were white and light green. And then, poof, here's a Tuscan Room. It made no sense, in regards to design. At least we have good flow now, and I LOVE the format living room that leads into the Tuscan Room. The color is called Tiny Fawn and it is so rich- looks great with the piano, club chairs and books. I like to sit in there and admire the cleanliness, since no one under 18 is allowed in that room.
But today, I found another design oddity. Our owners like brushed nickel in the bathroom. Well, so do I. Fabulous.
But the master bath (carpeting aside) looks like it was designed by a schizophrenic. Clearly, they either started to redo and ran out of funds/ interest/ time, or they couldn't pick and went two different directions in the same room. We have aforementioned brushed nickel over the sink, but, if you turn around, the towel racks, shelving and TP holder are black wrought iron looking things. The towel racks are retarded because the bar is only an inch away from the wall. Very hard to hang a towel on. And just to keep it varied, there in a hanging light fixture near the shower that is (wait for it) copper. IN THE BATHROOM. So as I was dusting the light fixture in the bathroom (because it's been 90 days), the dust was mixed in with green from the copper. You know, because it is a BATHROOM and very humid in there. Perhaps not the best idea ever. And the window looks like it should open, but it doesn't. Why not???
Just more things to add to my list of "Things I will NEVER have in my real house." It includes other design ideas such as: 4"square tile with big caulk lines on the kitchen counter; Washer and dryer in the middle of the kitchen; White tile on the kitchen floor; Cream colored carpet (in a rental house???); Work triangles so tight, that two appliances could not be open at the same time; Stand up showers with no lip to hold water in (that house was a bunch of DIYers- they also tried to lay carpet, run wire and were responsible for the next jem); Replacing a window with french door (good), but leaving the cement window sill in the yard next to the deck (???).
Like a comedian I saw once joked, "Just because Home Depot sells the stuff to do it, doesn't mean you should try it."
No joke.
House hunting around here was down right hysterical. Some of the homes are circa 1970s and have the wallpaper to prove it. If I saw terrible wallpaper on line, sometimes I just ruled the house out completely. But the best was when people clearly tried to do what the designers do on HGTV, but failed. Next move, I'll take pics of the champion designs, so to speak, and post them here.
I have adapted to some of the, er, interesting decorative features of the house. Like the half-wall wood panelling in the family room. Or the full-on wood panelling in the basement rec room, nicely complimented by carpet that is the color (and almost the texture) of a Brillo pad. Then there was the carpet in the master bath, which was ripped out the day after I signed the lease. I assume those things were done many years ago, when it seemed like a good idea, not necessarily to achieve a design scheme.
But then there is the Tuscan Room.
Our dining room is faux-finished in a deep reddish-goldish color (sponged). Faux-finishes are WAY out of date. But the owners love it, because they painted it, so ALL the tenants must keep it. Um, seriously? You don't live here. And how the hell am I supposed to cover up those nail holes? I guess I am not, and that is why there are a dozen nails/ screws still in the wall. I did use my art work to hide the worst of them.
Then the light fixture is a cut glass chandelier. Awfully formal for my pub height, slate top table.
This room goes with pretty much nothing that I own. (Hmm. No wait, there is that one water color of Venice that we own.) It actually looks okay now, I found the most complementary wall hangings I had. And the room color seems less obnoxious, because I made sure all the downstairs paint colors work with the Tuscan Room. Before, the other rooms were white and light green. And then, poof, here's a Tuscan Room. It made no sense, in regards to design. At least we have good flow now, and I LOVE the format living room that leads into the Tuscan Room. The color is called Tiny Fawn and it is so rich- looks great with the piano, club chairs and books. I like to sit in there and admire the cleanliness, since no one under 18 is allowed in that room.
But today, I found another design oddity. Our owners like brushed nickel in the bathroom. Well, so do I. Fabulous.
But the master bath (carpeting aside) looks like it was designed by a schizophrenic. Clearly, they either started to redo and ran out of funds/ interest/ time, or they couldn't pick and went two different directions in the same room. We have aforementioned brushed nickel over the sink, but, if you turn around, the towel racks, shelving and TP holder are black wrought iron looking things. The towel racks are retarded because the bar is only an inch away from the wall. Very hard to hang a towel on. And just to keep it varied, there in a hanging light fixture near the shower that is (wait for it) copper. IN THE BATHROOM. So as I was dusting the light fixture in the bathroom (because it's been 90 days), the dust was mixed in with green from the copper. You know, because it is a BATHROOM and very humid in there. Perhaps not the best idea ever. And the window looks like it should open, but it doesn't. Why not???
Just more things to add to my list of "Things I will NEVER have in my real house." It includes other design ideas such as: 4"square tile with big caulk lines on the kitchen counter; Washer and dryer in the middle of the kitchen; White tile on the kitchen floor; Cream colored carpet (in a rental house???); Work triangles so tight, that two appliances could not be open at the same time; Stand up showers with no lip to hold water in (that house was a bunch of DIYers- they also tried to lay carpet, run wire and were responsible for the next jem); Replacing a window with french door (good), but leaving the cement window sill in the yard next to the deck (???).
Like a comedian I saw once joked, "Just because Home Depot sells the stuff to do it, doesn't mean you should try it."
No joke.
27 July 2011
Back to our regularly scheduled program
Today was his first day back at work (school, really). He was able to take 50 days of leave (split up by TDY and a PCS) since leaving that hole known as Afghanistan. I don't think he has taken more than 10 consecutive days of leave since 2005- not even on a PCS. And being between duty stations is FANTASTIC. When he came home from Iraq, he kept getting calls from rear d while on leave. Seriously, people? HE IS ON LEAVE. Call someone else.
But is wasn't like that this time. He got re-acquainted with the little girls- they were 4 months, 2.5, and 4.5 when he left. He was able to spend time with the boys, doing, um, boy stuff. They caught a lizard, which became a member of the family until its untimely demise. We visited my mom. We went to the local amusement park twice. We went to the Smithsonian. Nothing like trying to cram three years worth of family time into 8-ish weeks.
I am kind of glad he is back at work- makes it feel more like real life. Having him around the house all day feels like R&R. Having him home for dinner after being gone during the day feels right. Not to mention it lets me and the kids find our groove in our new house. It means I am around during the day and available to hang out with the ladies (and their kids) again, since I will not be leaving my husband at home to see them. That may sound kind of silly, but I have friends that I have spent more time with than my husband (over the last three years, at least). So I have kind of been unavailable since June.
Now that he feels like part of the family, I get to figure out what I am going to do with myself. He wants me to do something for me, but with six kids, it is really hard to imagine how I might carve out time for me to do something totally selfish. All the peeps aren't even school age yet, and the school aged ones have other activities. Besides, I already did something ridiculous, impractical and in blatant disregard of the fact that I have a basketball team with a sub...... I am signed up for the Army ten miler. Ummmm, yeah. Probably need to exercise at some point, or my beloved spouse will end up fireman-carrying me across the finish line. At least he is in shape.
And someone has to cook, wash, clean, blah blah blah blah.
Oh, look. There is margarita mix in the fridge and tequila in the pantry. Yup. We are back to normal :)
But is wasn't like that this time. He got re-acquainted with the little girls- they were 4 months, 2.5, and 4.5 when he left. He was able to spend time with the boys, doing, um, boy stuff. They caught a lizard, which became a member of the family until its untimely demise. We visited my mom. We went to the local amusement park twice. We went to the Smithsonian. Nothing like trying to cram three years worth of family time into 8-ish weeks.
I am kind of glad he is back at work- makes it feel more like real life. Having him around the house all day feels like R&R. Having him home for dinner after being gone during the day feels right. Not to mention it lets me and the kids find our groove in our new house. It means I am around during the day and available to hang out with the ladies (and their kids) again, since I will not be leaving my husband at home to see them. That may sound kind of silly, but I have friends that I have spent more time with than my husband (over the last three years, at least). So I have kind of been unavailable since June.
Now that he feels like part of the family, I get to figure out what I am going to do with myself. He wants me to do something for me, but with six kids, it is really hard to imagine how I might carve out time for me to do something totally selfish. All the peeps aren't even school age yet, and the school aged ones have other activities. Besides, I already did something ridiculous, impractical and in blatant disregard of the fact that I have a basketball team with a sub...... I am signed up for the Army ten miler. Ummmm, yeah. Probably need to exercise at some point, or my beloved spouse will end up fireman-carrying me across the finish line. At least he is in shape.
And someone has to cook, wash, clean, blah blah blah blah.
Oh, look. There is margarita mix in the fridge and tequila in the pantry. Yup. We are back to normal :)
17 July 2011
Wow..I was gone a long time...
But I'm back. husband is home, we've moved, unpacked and are re-integrating (that's Army speak for getting used to sharing the bathroom and informing others of your whereabouts again).
We have moved closer to a military base. I never thought I would be so happy to be in a miitary community. My God, I am so glad to be back.
With only a one-year assignment for certain, I threw myself and my kids in friend-making. I volunteered for Vacation Bible school at our new church- total ulterior motives. My husband was TDY and I wanted to make sure the kids didn't sit around and make me crazy. So we ALL went, 2 as volunteers, 3 attendees and 2 in the nursery. Awesome. The week flew, fun was had, and everyone was tired.
I also got to meet a bunch of people, many of whom were military spouses. I got linked into a playgroup, just like that. There were other moms new to the area too, who new the best way to make friends quickly was to get out of the house and DO something. I linked in with some of them. My kids felt much more welcomed at this school/church than they had at the last school. Other more established moms were super helpful, with advice and suggestions about an area that has almost too many options for stuff.
All these great experiences made me think back on the last year. I really missed the feeling of sisterhood, of a shared journey. I feel at home again with women who don't need to dust under the couch because the movers will be back before it gets too thick. We are women in flux. Women living the best life they can while rolling with whatever the Army, Navy or Marine Corps throws at them. I love being in a group that doesn't blanche when I qualify my longish-terms plans with "If we still live here".
The year in a purely civilian community had it positives and negatives, but I certainly appreciate being in a military community again. I am finally home again, in a place I have never lived, but with people I feel like I already know.
We have moved closer to a military base. I never thought I would be so happy to be in a miitary community. My God, I am so glad to be back.
With only a one-year assignment for certain, I threw myself and my kids in friend-making. I volunteered for Vacation Bible school at our new church- total ulterior motives. My husband was TDY and I wanted to make sure the kids didn't sit around and make me crazy. So we ALL went, 2 as volunteers, 3 attendees and 2 in the nursery. Awesome. The week flew, fun was had, and everyone was tired.
I also got to meet a bunch of people, many of whom were military spouses. I got linked into a playgroup, just like that. There were other moms new to the area too, who new the best way to make friends quickly was to get out of the house and DO something. I linked in with some of them. My kids felt much more welcomed at this school/church than they had at the last school. Other more established moms were super helpful, with advice and suggestions about an area that has almost too many options for stuff.
All these great experiences made me think back on the last year. I really missed the feeling of sisterhood, of a shared journey. I feel at home again with women who don't need to dust under the couch because the movers will be back before it gets too thick. We are women in flux. Women living the best life they can while rolling with whatever the Army, Navy or Marine Corps throws at them. I love being in a group that doesn't blanche when I qualify my longish-terms plans with "If we still live here".
The year in a purely civilian community had it positives and negatives, but I certainly appreciate being in a military community again. I am finally home again, in a place I have never lived, but with people I feel like I already know.
06 May 2011
Military spouse appreciation day?
Less than 2% of the population serves.
I don't know that the other 98% seriously cares in a material, definite way about military spouses. My impression is that too many care in a fleeting, unserious way, much like everyone cares about the starving kids in Africa or Haiti. I don't think it is because people are cold or unfeeling (though some might be). I think it is because we are invisible to them.
We are clustered around military bases, mostly in the South. The military makes sure most bases are not convenient to any major population centers, keeping us almost cloistered from most of American society. They don't know us. And as the war drags on (and on and on), I, for one, don't think I know them anymore.
So for all those areas without military, let me break into the rhythm of your life to introduce you to someone you might not know- the military spouse.
She is young or not-so-young-anymore. She is college educated, or not- because frequent moves don't leave much time to finish school. Sometimes she isn't a she, there are men who have watched their wives go off to war.
One thing is for sure- she misses her soldier, sailor, airman, or Marine.
She has kids who miss their dad, and she tries to maintain the schedule they had when there were two parents. She is exhausted. Offer to drive her kid home from baseball.
She sees children at military family events, but doesn't have her own yet, because he is always deployed or training up for deployment. Be a friend to her.
She has her happy face on, but inside her heart is breaking, as she unwillingly ticks down the days to his departure. She smiles for her kids, who don't know he is leaving yet; her fellow spouses, to try to keep spirits up; and herself, to keep from crying. Smile back.
She is in church with her kids, trying to make them behave and quiet the baby by herself. Be kind to her.
She is at the grocery store filling her cart with things that can be cooked for one, or she is finding things that kids will eat that are reasonably nutritious and are easy to cook because they can't keep having chicken nuggets for dinner. Invite her over for dinner, or bring her a meal.
She is new in town and her soldier is already gone. She wants/ needs to work, but is struggling to find something. Point her in a good direction.
Her best friend is in a hostile country, with dangers everywhere. She is lonely without him. Call her just to say hello.
She worries. Her heart is heavy and a few minute chat on Skype can make her week. Pray for her.
Pray for all of us. Pray for our servicemen and women to return safely and an end to these wars.
That's how you thank a military spouse.
I don't know that the other 98% seriously cares in a material, definite way about military spouses. My impression is that too many care in a fleeting, unserious way, much like everyone cares about the starving kids in Africa or Haiti. I don't think it is because people are cold or unfeeling (though some might be). I think it is because we are invisible to them.
We are clustered around military bases, mostly in the South. The military makes sure most bases are not convenient to any major population centers, keeping us almost cloistered from most of American society. They don't know us. And as the war drags on (and on and on), I, for one, don't think I know them anymore.
So for all those areas without military, let me break into the rhythm of your life to introduce you to someone you might not know- the military spouse.
She is young or not-so-young-anymore. She is college educated, or not- because frequent moves don't leave much time to finish school. Sometimes she isn't a she, there are men who have watched their wives go off to war.
One thing is for sure- she misses her soldier, sailor, airman, or Marine.
She has kids who miss their dad, and she tries to maintain the schedule they had when there were two parents. She is exhausted. Offer to drive her kid home from baseball.
She sees children at military family events, but doesn't have her own yet, because he is always deployed or training up for deployment. Be a friend to her.
She has her happy face on, but inside her heart is breaking, as she unwillingly ticks down the days to his departure. She smiles for her kids, who don't know he is leaving yet; her fellow spouses, to try to keep spirits up; and herself, to keep from crying. Smile back.
She is in church with her kids, trying to make them behave and quiet the baby by herself. Be kind to her.
She is at the grocery store filling her cart with things that can be cooked for one, or she is finding things that kids will eat that are reasonably nutritious and are easy to cook because they can't keep having chicken nuggets for dinner. Invite her over for dinner, or bring her a meal.
She is new in town and her soldier is already gone. She wants/ needs to work, but is struggling to find something. Point her in a good direction.
Her best friend is in a hostile country, with dangers everywhere. She is lonely without him. Call her just to say hello.
She worries. Her heart is heavy and a few minute chat on Skype can make her week. Pray for her.
Pray for all of us. Pray for our servicemen and women to return safely and an end to these wars.
That's how you thank a military spouse.
14 April 2011
Rule of Army life #20: Share your bad days in an email to your spouse, and then delete before sending
Writing emails to myself is a coping mechanism I have adopted this deployment.
I might have done it once or twice last deployment, but I am up to two or three a month this time.
Not only does a deployment take a spouse physically away from the other one, but the emotional support seems to disappear too. Not to say that deployed soldiers are unfeeling cads, more that we, at home, become more careful about what we say. They are in a war zone. They are facing IEDs and other dangers constantly. No one wants to be the spouse who argued with her soldier on the phone, only to never get to speak to him again. They want to hear that all is well back home (because they feel guilty about leaving?), and it seems unfeeling to tell them otherwise. Not to mention that it isn't a good idea. Seems contradictory that less information can be better, but there it is. On the flip side, I prefer to know nothing about whatever is going on over there.
Still, built-up frustration needs a place to go. Some of it can be shared with other spouses, who are, after all, facing the same situation. Kids sometimes get a taste of it, despite a parent's best efforts. I have found that writing emails that aren't sent is the answer for me.
I can write exactly how I am feeling at the moment- no punches pulled, so softer words sought. I can curse the Army and Fate; I can blame God, too. I can write about how AWFUL (in detail) the kids were that day and how I am really running away to a tropical island, and he can have the kids. I can swear that the boys are going to military boarding school. I can recount all of the things I am not doing in my own life (remember your own life? Before this whole Army/war thing?) because he isn't living in our house with me like a "normal" married couple. All of that, and more.
I read it over, and acknowledge that I sound like a raving lunatic.
And then I hit "delete".
No, thanks. No need to save as a draft.
Am I holding back? Yes.
Is holding back helpful at this current juncture of my life? I think so.
Do I feel better? Sure do!
But we're getting closer to that magical reintegration time. I won't be able to hide behind email anymore. I will have to remember how to talk to him, in person, and live with him. It's been awhile. I don't recall much of the time he was home last time. Truthfully, I didn't reintegrate. I started to, but when the word came that he was leaving again, I pulled back. No point to it, I reasoned. I am still leery of him possibly heading back out the door in 12 or so months. He says that the numbers are on our side. I, however, don't think Human Resource Command is on our side.
Maybe we'll get lucky, and they'll cancel the war due to lack of interest. Then we can all get back to living, instead of waiting/missing/coping/writing.
I might have done it once or twice last deployment, but I am up to two or three a month this time.
Not only does a deployment take a spouse physically away from the other one, but the emotional support seems to disappear too. Not to say that deployed soldiers are unfeeling cads, more that we, at home, become more careful about what we say. They are in a war zone. They are facing IEDs and other dangers constantly. No one wants to be the spouse who argued with her soldier on the phone, only to never get to speak to him again. They want to hear that all is well back home (because they feel guilty about leaving?), and it seems unfeeling to tell them otherwise. Not to mention that it isn't a good idea. Seems contradictory that less information can be better, but there it is. On the flip side, I prefer to know nothing about whatever is going on over there.
Still, built-up frustration needs a place to go. Some of it can be shared with other spouses, who are, after all, facing the same situation. Kids sometimes get a taste of it, despite a parent's best efforts. I have found that writing emails that aren't sent is the answer for me.
I can write exactly how I am feeling at the moment- no punches pulled, so softer words sought. I can curse the Army and Fate; I can blame God, too. I can write about how AWFUL (in detail) the kids were that day and how I am really running away to a tropical island, and he can have the kids. I can swear that the boys are going to military boarding school. I can recount all of the things I am not doing in my own life (remember your own life? Before this whole Army/war thing?) because he isn't living in our house with me like a "normal" married couple. All of that, and more.
I read it over, and acknowledge that I sound like a raving lunatic.
And then I hit "delete".
No, thanks. No need to save as a draft.
Am I holding back? Yes.
Is holding back helpful at this current juncture of my life? I think so.
Do I feel better? Sure do!
But we're getting closer to that magical reintegration time. I won't be able to hide behind email anymore. I will have to remember how to talk to him, in person, and live with him. It's been awhile. I don't recall much of the time he was home last time. Truthfully, I didn't reintegrate. I started to, but when the word came that he was leaving again, I pulled back. No point to it, I reasoned. I am still leery of him possibly heading back out the door in 12 or so months. He says that the numbers are on our side. I, however, don't think Human Resource Command is on our side.
Maybe we'll get lucky, and they'll cancel the war due to lack of interest. Then we can all get back to living, instead of waiting/missing/coping/writing.
10 April 2011
Never seems to be the right time
Maybe it is because I have a basketball team plus one sub, but time seems to skip from "too soon" to "very late" in a flash.
For example, if I try to take all my peeps somewhere, I want to start getting ready about 45 minutes before I want to leave. But that isn't really a good idea, you see. Because I will get everyone ready, and when it's time to walk out the door, someone will have taken off and misplaced his/her shoes, at least 2 kids will need to use the restroom again, somebody will want a snack ("But Mooooommmm, I'm staarrrrrving!") and the other kid will have decided he/she doesn't really want to go. (And my husband doesn't understand why there are times that I think I am on Candid Camera.)
But if I try to wait until 15 minutes before we leave, I get stressed out and crazy trying to herd all my people toward the door. (Ever try to catch a chicken or herd cats? Yeah, it looks a lot like that.) We'll get to the car, but usually 5 minutes past the time we should have arrived at our destination and, by this point, Mommy doesn't feel like going anywhere.
So when to start? That is the magic question.
Next month, I am moving. Again. But this time, I am only moving about 15 miles away. The catch (because I am cursed to live what the Chinese would call an "interesting" life) is that most of my stuff is coming from our last duty station, but a fair amount of stuff is here. And then the kids will get out of school probably a day or two after our household goods arrive. And my husband should arrive a few days after that.
This calls for one of those buckets-o-margarita.
I want to have some semblance of order in the house when my husband arrives. So I want to start packing up the less essential things here and move them there. But when do I start packing? Now? I think it might be too soon- I have nowhere to put boxes and I won't get the keys til the first. Later? That could easily become too late, because Easter is so late and my kids are home from school the last week of April. Not to mention that packing with 6 "helpers" is almost a fruitless endeavor. My three year old will unpack any box she finds, especially if it looks interesting, or has her stuff in it, or if it is a day ending in "y".
So I should start now, before soon becomes late.
ummmm, yeah.
I have lost my grip on time. I realize it is purely conceptual, but I am starting to think it might not even apply to me.
In the middle of all this, I am working towards my teachers certification. I would be done with the coursework already, but I withdrew my packet because the Army told us we were moving out of the state (and naturally changed their minds once the cut off date had passed- Thanks, Army!). I need to be in VA until summer of 2013 to get my 5 year license. Am I already too late? I couldn't do it any sooner. Will I pass this stupid test? I started studying awhile ago, but I think I will run out of time and still not feel ready. Too late? But it was just early.....
Where does the time go? What exactly do I do all day? Why does it take all day? And why does it wear me out?
Oh look, it's late (lol).
And in the morning, it will be too early again.
Round and round we go.....
For example, if I try to take all my peeps somewhere, I want to start getting ready about 45 minutes before I want to leave. But that isn't really a good idea, you see. Because I will get everyone ready, and when it's time to walk out the door, someone will have taken off and misplaced his/her shoes, at least 2 kids will need to use the restroom again, somebody will want a snack ("But Mooooommmm, I'm staarrrrrving!") and the other kid will have decided he/she doesn't really want to go. (And my husband doesn't understand why there are times that I think I am on Candid Camera.)
But if I try to wait until 15 minutes before we leave, I get stressed out and crazy trying to herd all my people toward the door. (Ever try to catch a chicken or herd cats? Yeah, it looks a lot like that.) We'll get to the car, but usually 5 minutes past the time we should have arrived at our destination and, by this point, Mommy doesn't feel like going anywhere.
So when to start? That is the magic question.
Next month, I am moving. Again. But this time, I am only moving about 15 miles away. The catch (because I am cursed to live what the Chinese would call an "interesting" life) is that most of my stuff is coming from our last duty station, but a fair amount of stuff is here. And then the kids will get out of school probably a day or two after our household goods arrive. And my husband should arrive a few days after that.
This calls for one of those buckets-o-margarita.
I want to have some semblance of order in the house when my husband arrives. So I want to start packing up the less essential things here and move them there. But when do I start packing? Now? I think it might be too soon- I have nowhere to put boxes and I won't get the keys til the first. Later? That could easily become too late, because Easter is so late and my kids are home from school the last week of April. Not to mention that packing with 6 "helpers" is almost a fruitless endeavor. My three year old will unpack any box she finds, especially if it looks interesting, or has her stuff in it, or if it is a day ending in "y".
So I should start now, before soon becomes late.
ummmm, yeah.
I have lost my grip on time. I realize it is purely conceptual, but I am starting to think it might not even apply to me.
In the middle of all this, I am working towards my teachers certification. I would be done with the coursework already, but I withdrew my packet because the Army told us we were moving out of the state (and naturally changed their minds once the cut off date had passed- Thanks, Army!). I need to be in VA until summer of 2013 to get my 5 year license. Am I already too late? I couldn't do it any sooner. Will I pass this stupid test? I started studying awhile ago, but I think I will run out of time and still not feel ready. Too late? But it was just early.....
Where does the time go? What exactly do I do all day? Why does it take all day? And why does it wear me out?
Oh look, it's late (lol).
And in the morning, it will be too early again.
Round and round we go.....
03 April 2011
Hitting the (mental) wall
TEN MONTHS!!!! So close, but not close enough.
It reminds me of the first marathon I ran (4 kids ago) in Richmond. I just passed the 22 mile mark and was rather enjoying my first marathon. I had trained well and was feeling fine. There were lots of interesting people to chat with, but one guy I had to leave behind. He said, "I feel like we're never going to get there." That is POISONOUS thinking. I picked up my pace and found a new person to talk to.
I am teetering on the brink of those same type of poisonous thoughts. You know them. You probably have thought some of them. Well, I am going to say them out loud. Verboten, I know. But sometimes seeing those thoughts in black and white robs them of their power.
"What was the point of getting married (or having kids) if he's never going to be here?"
"Good thing we're moving because I have taken over his closet space and his side of the bed."(This statement drips with sarcasm. You want neither his side of the bed, nor his closet space. You want HIM at home, dammit.)
"How are we supposed to reintegrate when he'll probably leave again in 12 months?"
"Of course HE thinks (insert kid's newest trouble making adventure) is funny, he's over THERE. I'd think it was funny from Afghanistan, too."
"Next time, I'LL deploy. HE can stay here with these crazy people."
For those of you without a running problem, "hitting the wall" is the feeling associated with a physiological condition. Be it your pace or food choices, you have depleted the glycogen stores in your muscles. And you feel like crap. Happened to me once on a training run and I will NEVER let it happen again. All you can do is dig deep mentally and use your willpower to drag yourself across that finish line.
I have hit the wall of this deployment. Stick a fork in me, I'm done.
I'm tired of being tired, and I think I lost my sense of humor in the car, or maybe at a doctor's office.
I am also fighting the temptation of thinking that my husband's return will be some kind of silver bullet. Like the happiness fairy will sprinkle us with happy dust, and all will be sunshine and roses. We have a long summer of reintegration ahead of us. Last year, I committed a normal Army wife sin- starting to distance oneself emotionally from a soon-to-be-deployed spouse a few months before he (or she) goes. We will have to rebuild those bonds, with 6 kids running amuck in the background.
So there it is.
I'm at 22 miles, 4.2 to go, and feeling like I am never going to see the finish line.
Trying to take it one day at a time (me and the alcoholics). Trying to find just one thing to smile about each day. Digging deep to drag myself across that finish line and into my husband's arms.
It reminds me of the first marathon I ran (4 kids ago) in Richmond. I just passed the 22 mile mark and was rather enjoying my first marathon. I had trained well and was feeling fine. There were lots of interesting people to chat with, but one guy I had to leave behind. He said, "I feel like we're never going to get there." That is POISONOUS thinking. I picked up my pace and found a new person to talk to.
I am teetering on the brink of those same type of poisonous thoughts. You know them. You probably have thought some of them. Well, I am going to say them out loud. Verboten, I know. But sometimes seeing those thoughts in black and white robs them of their power.
"What was the point of getting married (or having kids) if he's never going to be here?"
"Good thing we're moving because I have taken over his closet space and his side of the bed."(This statement drips with sarcasm. You want neither his side of the bed, nor his closet space. You want HIM at home, dammit.)
"How are we supposed to reintegrate when he'll probably leave again in 12 months?"
"Of course HE thinks (insert kid's newest trouble making adventure) is funny, he's over THERE. I'd think it was funny from Afghanistan, too."
"Next time, I'LL deploy. HE can stay here with these crazy people."
For those of you without a running problem, "hitting the wall" is the feeling associated with a physiological condition. Be it your pace or food choices, you have depleted the glycogen stores in your muscles. And you feel like crap. Happened to me once on a training run and I will NEVER let it happen again. All you can do is dig deep mentally and use your willpower to drag yourself across that finish line.
I have hit the wall of this deployment. Stick a fork in me, I'm done.
I'm tired of being tired, and I think I lost my sense of humor in the car, or maybe at a doctor's office.
I am also fighting the temptation of thinking that my husband's return will be some kind of silver bullet. Like the happiness fairy will sprinkle us with happy dust, and all will be sunshine and roses. We have a long summer of reintegration ahead of us. Last year, I committed a normal Army wife sin- starting to distance oneself emotionally from a soon-to-be-deployed spouse a few months before he (or she) goes. We will have to rebuild those bonds, with 6 kids running amuck in the background.
So there it is.
I'm at 22 miles, 4.2 to go, and feeling like I am never going to see the finish line.
Trying to take it one day at a time (me and the alcoholics). Trying to find just one thing to smile about each day. Digging deep to drag myself across that finish line and into my husband's arms.
30 March 2011
Rule of Army life #12: Never use pen on a calendar
After several weeks of chasing my tail (almost caught it once), I realized that I have neglected my writing. So easy to put aside those things that we do for ourselves. Whether it is writing or exercising, it is too often the first thing cut. I need to stop doing that. It is the mental equivalent of balancing your budget by cutting the essentials first.
I shouldn't be surprised things have been busy. It is spring (at least, my calendar swears it is) and everyone comes out of their winter sleep to pack my calendar with activities. Add on to that my husband's return (only 60ish days left!) and moving and the end of school.....yeah. I'm going to need a vacation for sure.
I made the foolish error of putting some items on my calendar in pen. Big stuff- like last day of school. Some things are in pencil, either because they were tentative or I couldn't find a pen. I will confess to one item written in crayon, but I have since found all of my pens, so that shouldn't happen again. But from now on, I will ONLY write in pencil. I learned to do that in my address book years ago (only the names are in ink).
One expects a deployment date and travel dates to bounce around (like a high bounce ball :) ), but other things one expects to stay firm. And that is where I went wrong.
Today, I got a call from my kids' school about recess monitor volunteers. I hate doing it in the cold, but it is a great way to see what my kids are up too. The secretary said something about there only being five weeks left in the year (I am only counting down to my husband's return, could care less about school). It went right past me. Then I said Fridays were good, but I couldn't do May 27. She said it wasn't a problem because there was no school that day. I (still clueless) asked if it was a four day weekend and she replied, "No, the last day of school is the 25th." I started to feel the early symptoms of shock. "I thought school ended 3 June?" I asked hopefully. (Like making her say it again would change the answer) "No," she said in her cheerful I'm-not-moving-so-I-think-it's-great voice. "It was changed."
Note the passive voice. Way to cover some one's rear.
ARE YOU KIDDING ME?????
My kids just got an extra week of vacation and I lost a week of unpacking without their "help". It is a kid's dream and has wreaked complete havoc on my schedule.
Can I move everything back 10 calendar days? Can I possibly do half the stuff I was going to do now that I lost 6 school days to vacation? Does anyone owe me a favor/ feel sorry for me and will help me unpack and watch kids? If so, is their calendar full? Would anyone else like to reschedule anything else before I misplace the white-out again?
The moral of this story is NEVER use pen on your calendar, because it isn't just the Army that will jerk you around.
I shouldn't be surprised things have been busy. It is spring (at least, my calendar swears it is) and everyone comes out of their winter sleep to pack my calendar with activities. Add on to that my husband's return (only 60ish days left!) and moving and the end of school.....yeah. I'm going to need a vacation for sure.
I made the foolish error of putting some items on my calendar in pen. Big stuff- like last day of school. Some things are in pencil, either because they were tentative or I couldn't find a pen. I will confess to one item written in crayon, but I have since found all of my pens, so that shouldn't happen again. But from now on, I will ONLY write in pencil. I learned to do that in my address book years ago (only the names are in ink).
One expects a deployment date and travel dates to bounce around (like a high bounce ball :) ), but other things one expects to stay firm. And that is where I went wrong.
Today, I got a call from my kids' school about recess monitor volunteers. I hate doing it in the cold, but it is a great way to see what my kids are up too. The secretary said something about there only being five weeks left in the year (I am only counting down to my husband's return, could care less about school). It went right past me. Then I said Fridays were good, but I couldn't do May 27. She said it wasn't a problem because there was no school that day. I (still clueless) asked if it was a four day weekend and she replied, "No, the last day of school is the 25th." I started to feel the early symptoms of shock. "I thought school ended 3 June?" I asked hopefully. (Like making her say it again would change the answer) "No," she said in her cheerful I'm-not-moving-so-I-think-it's-great voice. "It was changed."
Note the passive voice. Way to cover some one's rear.
ARE YOU KIDDING ME?????
My kids just got an extra week of vacation and I lost a week of unpacking without their "help". It is a kid's dream and has wreaked complete havoc on my schedule.
Can I move everything back 10 calendar days? Can I possibly do half the stuff I was going to do now that I lost 6 school days to vacation? Does anyone owe me a favor/ feel sorry for me and will help me unpack and watch kids? If so, is their calendar full? Would anyone else like to reschedule anything else before I misplace the white-out again?
The moral of this story is NEVER use pen on your calendar, because it isn't just the Army that will jerk you around.
07 March 2011
Not a rocket scientist, but still doing fine
Today, I begin the process of rediscovering my inner math-lete.
I have rescheduled my teacher's exams, so I will soon be neck deep in polynomials and the like. Rescheduled, you ask? Yes. I HAD scheduled them for November and March, but the Army said we weren't staying in VA, so I cancelled them. But the Army has since changed its' mind and said we ARE staying in VA, so the tests are back on. Mercifully, it only cost me time, not money.
Back to my inner math-lete.
I tend to think of myself as not particularly good at math. This perception comes from my 4 years spent at what my grandfather jokingly referred to as "Bill Clinton's Finishing School for Young Ladies on the Hudson." I made it through all the wretched math classes there, but they were challenging. And boring, did I mention boring? It left me with the impression that, when it came to math, I was just shy of a moron.
Well, #1 commented the other night (when tripped up by the distributive property) that he was glad he had a mom who was so good at math. Hmm. Thinking back to high school, I aced every honors math class I took. Hmm. Maybe I am good at math, just not ready to be a rocket scientist like some of the super-smart people I went to school with. (Seriously, one guy I know did go work for NASA) And to be fair, it IS an engineering school. Us touchy-feely literature-history types just had to deal with it. Maybe math isn't the problem, maybe I have a perception issue.
This train of thought reminded me of when I graduated and went out to the "real" Army, and all us type As were split up, instead of feeding off of each other. I thought I was on the short side (I'm 5'7") and a slow runner (I used to run 2 miles in 14 minutes because I wouldn't get any more points for going any faster). Turns out I am not short, and I was faster than a fair number of the male soldiers, to include a commander that I wasn't a big fan of. Now THAT was a satisfying 2 mile run ;).
It makes me realize that perceived success all depends on who one chooses to use as a benchmark. So as the kiddos get older, I really have to be on the watch for comparisons between siblings or anyone else.
I also realized that I don't have to ace this teacher exam, so I can relax a little bit. And the pass grade is lower than the pass grade in some of the other subjects. (That concerns me, actually. Why would it be okay for the math teachers to score lower?) This is EASY math, not the imaginary curves in space foisted upon my by my humorless Calc 2 professor.
Time to be a little less hard on myself.
I have rescheduled my teacher's exams, so I will soon be neck deep in polynomials and the like. Rescheduled, you ask? Yes. I HAD scheduled them for November and March, but the Army said we weren't staying in VA, so I cancelled them. But the Army has since changed its' mind and said we ARE staying in VA, so the tests are back on. Mercifully, it only cost me time, not money.
Back to my inner math-lete.
I tend to think of myself as not particularly good at math. This perception comes from my 4 years spent at what my grandfather jokingly referred to as "Bill Clinton's Finishing School for Young Ladies on the Hudson." I made it through all the wretched math classes there, but they were challenging. And boring, did I mention boring? It left me with the impression that, when it came to math, I was just shy of a moron.
Well, #1 commented the other night (when tripped up by the distributive property) that he was glad he had a mom who was so good at math. Hmm. Thinking back to high school, I aced every honors math class I took. Hmm. Maybe I am good at math, just not ready to be a rocket scientist like some of the super-smart people I went to school with. (Seriously, one guy I know did go work for NASA) And to be fair, it IS an engineering school. Us touchy-feely literature-history types just had to deal with it. Maybe math isn't the problem, maybe I have a perception issue.
This train of thought reminded me of when I graduated and went out to the "real" Army, and all us type As were split up, instead of feeding off of each other. I thought I was on the short side (I'm 5'7") and a slow runner (I used to run 2 miles in 14 minutes because I wouldn't get any more points for going any faster). Turns out I am not short, and I was faster than a fair number of the male soldiers, to include a commander that I wasn't a big fan of. Now THAT was a satisfying 2 mile run ;).
It makes me realize that perceived success all depends on who one chooses to use as a benchmark. So as the kiddos get older, I really have to be on the watch for comparisons between siblings or anyone else.
I also realized that I don't have to ace this teacher exam, so I can relax a little bit. And the pass grade is lower than the pass grade in some of the other subjects. (That concerns me, actually. Why would it be okay for the math teachers to score lower?) This is EASY math, not the imaginary curves in space foisted upon my by my humorless Calc 2 professor.
Time to be a little less hard on myself.
04 March 2011
Where's my ribbon?
I had an absolutely lovely four-hour lunch (you read that right) with a dear friend this week. We set the goal of lunching monthly (which cuts our lunches down to only two hours), but it just didn't happen last month. So this month, we had even more to say.
Her husband is retired. I am looking forward to disposing of all that Army stuff we have accumulated over the last too-many years. It's nice to have someone ahead of you on the road you are travelling. We discussed our husbands' jobs and kids and so forth. We discussed our own (lack of) careers and the roadblocks placed in the path to most careers just because you are Mrs. Soldier.
My friend is an amazing woman. She is a military brat AND a military wife. She moved every 24-36 months until she was 40. WOW. Talk about a tough transition when her husband hung up the uniform. She truly NEVER knew another way to live. I can look back on my childhood, and while we moved around NYC a little bit and had a few school changes, it was nothing like the experiences of a military kid. She's my hero. She joked about waiting for a plaque recognizing the 40 years she gave the military.
But she's right. She served. Just like I serve.
I serve by waiting. I serve by living in a place without becoming part of it, because I already have my eye on the next move. I serve by fighting with the transportation office, armed only with my POA and a NY accent that erupts when I'm ticked off, to set up a move so he doesn't have to. I serve by mailing him an endless stream of boxes, so much so that the post office people know me. I serve by trying to be both parents, even though I know it is a futile effort.
I serve by sending MY husband, while most of America stays home.
And my kids.... Hell, at least I chose this. This is their inheritance. Duty, Honor, Country, and a helping of Selfless Service on the side.
So, tonight, I lift my late-night glass of fabulous Italian wine to my compatriots- my fellow spouses and our kids. We get no retirements, no ribbons, no titles. We sacrifice our education, jobs, friends, homes and sanity.
Cheers to you. You are pillars of the nation, keeping it strong. Like the supports on a bridge, taken for granted that we will hold and always be there. But I know your sacrifice. Maybe one day, all of America will.
Her husband is retired. I am looking forward to disposing of all that Army stuff we have accumulated over the last too-many years. It's nice to have someone ahead of you on the road you are travelling. We discussed our husbands' jobs and kids and so forth. We discussed our own (lack of) careers and the roadblocks placed in the path to most careers just because you are Mrs. Soldier.
My friend is an amazing woman. She is a military brat AND a military wife. She moved every 24-36 months until she was 40. WOW. Talk about a tough transition when her husband hung up the uniform. She truly NEVER knew another way to live. I can look back on my childhood, and while we moved around NYC a little bit and had a few school changes, it was nothing like the experiences of a military kid. She's my hero. She joked about waiting for a plaque recognizing the 40 years she gave the military.
But she's right. She served. Just like I serve.
I serve by waiting. I serve by living in a place without becoming part of it, because I already have my eye on the next move. I serve by fighting with the transportation office, armed only with my POA and a NY accent that erupts when I'm ticked off, to set up a move so he doesn't have to. I serve by mailing him an endless stream of boxes, so much so that the post office people know me. I serve by trying to be both parents, even though I know it is a futile effort.
I serve by sending MY husband, while most of America stays home.
And my kids.... Hell, at least I chose this. This is their inheritance. Duty, Honor, Country, and a helping of Selfless Service on the side.
So, tonight, I lift my late-night glass of fabulous Italian wine to my compatriots- my fellow spouses and our kids. We get no retirements, no ribbons, no titles. We sacrifice our education, jobs, friends, homes and sanity.
Cheers to you. You are pillars of the nation, keeping it strong. Like the supports on a bridge, taken for granted that we will hold and always be there. But I know your sacrifice. Maybe one day, all of America will.
21 February 2011
Insomnia- it adds more hours to my day
There are more PhDs than things to study. That's just my theory. But somewhere, there is a PhD studying deployments and how it affects soldiers, families, communities, and so on. (Actually, I know one of them.) All this studying to tell us what any military wife with 2+ deployments could already tell you. And I bet she'll work cheaper than the PhD. I am being a bit facetious, as I recognize that "they" are looking for patterns across a fairly sizeable military. But reading the reports, I always wonder how much it cost to confirm what we all know.
At least this research, theoretically, will improve things for military families. My favorite PhD story of all is from a conference my husband attended where someone gave a briefing on their long, in-depth study of the declining size of alligator penises in FL. Seriously. Even funnier than the topic were the two General Officers who were joking about the topic in the row in front of my husband- mostly about how one might go about trying to measure said alligator parts, and how it was no surprise that the gators ran from the researchers, they were embarrassed by their diminutive organs.
But back to my original thought
Someone named stages of deployment, including anger, denial, grief and acceptance. But they left out insomnia.
I am sure it is stress-related, not that knowing the cause helps a whole lot. It also just makes the deployment longer because I get to consciously experience even more hours of everyday. Which makes me cranky, and then makes the kids cranky, and then raises my stress level, leading to (that's right!) insomnia.
So I will break out the home remedies- chamomile tea, soft lights, dull movies, benedryl. Let's just hope I can end the streak before it really gets going.
At least this research, theoretically, will improve things for military families. My favorite PhD story of all is from a conference my husband attended where someone gave a briefing on their long, in-depth study of the declining size of alligator penises in FL. Seriously. Even funnier than the topic were the two General Officers who were joking about the topic in the row in front of my husband- mostly about how one might go about trying to measure said alligator parts, and how it was no surprise that the gators ran from the researchers, they were embarrassed by their diminutive organs.
But back to my original thought
Someone named stages of deployment, including anger, denial, grief and acceptance. But they left out insomnia.
I am sure it is stress-related, not that knowing the cause helps a whole lot. It also just makes the deployment longer because I get to consciously experience even more hours of everyday. Which makes me cranky, and then makes the kids cranky, and then raises my stress level, leading to (that's right!) insomnia.
So I will break out the home remedies- chamomile tea, soft lights, dull movies, benedryl. Let's just hope I can end the streak before it really gets going.
19 February 2011
Another milestone whizzes by
Tonight was our Cub Scout Pack's Blue and Gold banquet. It was raucous and fun, as it should be. They brought in someone to do cool chemistry experiments as entertainment- the boys loved it! For those of you that do not speak Cub Scout, Blue and Gold is a HUGE yearly pack event to mark the anniversary of scouting. It is also the time when the most senior scouts, most of whom have earned the Arrow of Light (highest award in Cub Scouting), are ceremoniously shown the door. They "bridge" to Boy Scouts.
Our pack had a small indoor (Thank you!) bridge, and the Boy Scout troops came up to the front of the room and called their new scouts across the bridge. It is always a very cool ceremony, and it makes me smile. The newest Boy Scouts are all excited, and the parents are taking pics. But in the midst of it, I couldn't help but think of my husband, who missed #1 crossing to Boy Scouts also.
Look in the rearview mirror, folks, because that little piece of life is gone.
The irony, which is good for the soul, is that scouting was my husband's thing. He was a scout and loved it. I grew up in NYC and didn't even know any boy scouts. Somehow I ended up helping the kids do their achievement things, and then helping plan his den schedule and activities. It all culminated with us moving to TX, me starting off on the pack committee, and ending up as Cubmaster (true confession: I loved doing it- it was a total blast!). But that was supposed to be him. All that stuff I ended up doing with my boys (which I really enjoyed) was supposed to be for him to do with them. The lost father-son opportunities make me sad.
We have one Cub Scout to go. #3 opted to not scout "until Daddy comes home to do it with me." I really hope he can, for all 4 years. For only four years. And, when you think about it, that's not much time at all.
Our pack had a small indoor (Thank you!) bridge, and the Boy Scout troops came up to the front of the room and called their new scouts across the bridge. It is always a very cool ceremony, and it makes me smile. The newest Boy Scouts are all excited, and the parents are taking pics. But in the midst of it, I couldn't help but think of my husband, who missed #1 crossing to Boy Scouts also.
Look in the rearview mirror, folks, because that little piece of life is gone.
The irony, which is good for the soul, is that scouting was my husband's thing. He was a scout and loved it. I grew up in NYC and didn't even know any boy scouts. Somehow I ended up helping the kids do their achievement things, and then helping plan his den schedule and activities. It all culminated with us moving to TX, me starting off on the pack committee, and ending up as Cubmaster (true confession: I loved doing it- it was a total blast!). But that was supposed to be him. All that stuff I ended up doing with my boys (which I really enjoyed) was supposed to be for him to do with them. The lost father-son opportunities make me sad.
We have one Cub Scout to go. #3 opted to not scout "until Daddy comes home to do it with me." I really hope he can, for all 4 years. For only four years. And, when you think about it, that's not much time at all.
16 February 2011
Mom's taxi is off duty
Why is that the week I am already stressed about #1's exam schedule that the Cub Scouts decide they want to meet THREE times and the Boy Scouts TWICE? Obviously they don't understand that I am 8 months into a deployment and am pretty much over everything.
This is the flaw in living in a civilian community during a deployment. The Pack we belonged to in Texas would NEVER try to do something like that to the moms. Mostly because the moms would be running the pack because everyone's husband would be gone. And we'd just say no.
But honestly, I feel it is a bit presumptuous of any family's schedule. Like "Hey, since all you have to do with your evenings is drive this one kid to scout events, we will have THREE this week." Anyone else have more than one kid? How about homework? Anyone else's kids get homework?
I have 2 kids in scouts, a kid in ballet and a baby that would like to play at home with her toys instead of being forced to sit in my lap at endless other activities. One kid is also in counseling, which needs to happen every week. Then there are the two kids at home someone needs to watch while I drag my other kids all over God's green earth. Or they get to come along for the ride.
When #1 mentions playing sports, I start to feel light-headed. When am I going to cram that into my schedule? Would it be mean to tell him I just can't handle one more event in the hours between 3 and 8:30pm? When the heck would we cook/eat dinner?
Touch of irony for you- I am home ALL DAY. But those hours are relatively calm (considering I have a 3 and a 1 year old home with me). It makes me think that when I go back to work, I will spend all my non-working hours in my vehicle, ferrying children to all their activities.
Hopefully we don't have many more weeks like this one. It's insanity, people. And I know I am not the only person who can see it.
This is the flaw in living in a civilian community during a deployment. The Pack we belonged to in Texas would NEVER try to do something like that to the moms. Mostly because the moms would be running the pack because everyone's husband would be gone. And we'd just say no.
But honestly, I feel it is a bit presumptuous of any family's schedule. Like "Hey, since all you have to do with your evenings is drive this one kid to scout events, we will have THREE this week." Anyone else have more than one kid? How about homework? Anyone else's kids get homework?
I have 2 kids in scouts, a kid in ballet and a baby that would like to play at home with her toys instead of being forced to sit in my lap at endless other activities. One kid is also in counseling, which needs to happen every week. Then there are the two kids at home someone needs to watch while I drag my other kids all over God's green earth. Or they get to come along for the ride.
When #1 mentions playing sports, I start to feel light-headed. When am I going to cram that into my schedule? Would it be mean to tell him I just can't handle one more event in the hours between 3 and 8:30pm? When the heck would we cook/eat dinner?
Touch of irony for you- I am home ALL DAY. But those hours are relatively calm (considering I have a 3 and a 1 year old home with me). It makes me think that when I go back to work, I will spend all my non-working hours in my vehicle, ferrying children to all their activities.
Hopefully we don't have many more weeks like this one. It's insanity, people. And I know I am not the only person who can see it.
15 February 2011
With all this manure, there must be a pony around here somewhere
I think I hate school more than my kids. Hard to believe, but it's true.
I resent how much work they assign and that most of it requires parental help. I also wish they would take their "reasonable" amount of homework, multiply it by 3 kids and divide by one parent. If I wanted to teach my kids myself, I'd go back to homeschooling and would use the tuition savings to take an awesome vacation with my husband. See, I want the TEACHER to teach them now. Thanks.
I wish I could just hate school and ignore it, like #1. But, because I am an overachiever and a mom, I know it important to have good grades no matter what asinine topics they are covering. How am I going to explain his transcript to another school? Between the subjects and his grades, oy vey.
It is exam week for #1 and he is taking 3 tests on Thursday. He is going into one of them with a 55. Yup. The other two sunjects are passing grades, but far from stellar. But he wants to go to his scout meeting Wed night because there is a campout this weekend. It was an "Are you JOKING???" moment. Sometimes I think Catholic school is wasted on him, or at least the academics are. But I think if I put him in public school, he'd make friends with the other kids who don't like school and probably never graduate.
I am reading a book called "Superparenting for ADD." Right there, it confirms my belief that any mere mortal would have a hard time parenting my two oldest kids. (#5 is also a terror, but she three and that's unrelated to this train of thought.) It is really a good book, informative and amusing. I have gained a few new insights from it, which is impressive because I read a lot on this topic.
I had a chance to read some more of it today while I was sitting in the driveway in the car while #6 napped in her carseat. (Yes, if that is what it takes, that is what I will do.) I had already read a fantastic part about the key role of parents and how the "cure" for ADD was love and support. It reminded me that my primary mission in life is to love those kids, not as I want them to be, but as they are. Sounds obvious, but it is so hard to completely accept a child when you just can't understand what keeps them from acting "appropriately." The underlying urge to improve them is very strong.
Today, I hit a great chapter. It discussed how ADD is always discussed as a negative, but as a parent (with all-accepting love and support) I have to take all that negative feedback and find the positive side. They called it being a mirror.
My son is easily distracted. Or is he exceptionally aware of his surroundings and any change in it?
My son is overly emotional. Or is he sensitive and passionate?
My son doesn't stay on topic. Or does he make connections to other things that "normal" people don't immediately see?
It really isn't just semantics, because the second set is much more accurate. Doctors and school administrators don't always have time to know each child, so the child is painted with the broad brushstrokes of the behaviors listed in the DSM. Bothof my sons will both focus (and thrive!) when drawn in by a skilled teacher (or their own interest) and challenged.
The title of the blog was drawn out from that chapter. With exams stressing me out more than they stress out my son, I have to keep looking for the pony. He will get grades that tell him he isn't good enough, but I need to convince him he is. To make it believable, I need to convince myself.
I resent how much work they assign and that most of it requires parental help. I also wish they would take their "reasonable" amount of homework, multiply it by 3 kids and divide by one parent. If I wanted to teach my kids myself, I'd go back to homeschooling and would use the tuition savings to take an awesome vacation with my husband. See, I want the TEACHER to teach them now. Thanks.
I wish I could just hate school and ignore it, like #1. But, because I am an overachiever and a mom, I know it important to have good grades no matter what asinine topics they are covering. How am I going to explain his transcript to another school? Between the subjects and his grades, oy vey.
It is exam week for #1 and he is taking 3 tests on Thursday. He is going into one of them with a 55. Yup. The other two sunjects are passing grades, but far from stellar. But he wants to go to his scout meeting Wed night because there is a campout this weekend. It was an "Are you JOKING???" moment. Sometimes I think Catholic school is wasted on him, or at least the academics are. But I think if I put him in public school, he'd make friends with the other kids who don't like school and probably never graduate.
I am reading a book called "Superparenting for ADD." Right there, it confirms my belief that any mere mortal would have a hard time parenting my two oldest kids. (#5 is also a terror, but she three and that's unrelated to this train of thought.) It is really a good book, informative and amusing. I have gained a few new insights from it, which is impressive because I read a lot on this topic.
I had a chance to read some more of it today while I was sitting in the driveway in the car while #6 napped in her carseat. (Yes, if that is what it takes, that is what I will do.) I had already read a fantastic part about the key role of parents and how the "cure" for ADD was love and support. It reminded me that my primary mission in life is to love those kids, not as I want them to be, but as they are. Sounds obvious, but it is so hard to completely accept a child when you just can't understand what keeps them from acting "appropriately." The underlying urge to improve them is very strong.
Today, I hit a great chapter. It discussed how ADD is always discussed as a negative, but as a parent (with all-accepting love and support) I have to take all that negative feedback and find the positive side. They called it being a mirror.
My son is easily distracted. Or is he exceptionally aware of his surroundings and any change in it?
My son is overly emotional. Or is he sensitive and passionate?
My son doesn't stay on topic. Or does he make connections to other things that "normal" people don't immediately see?
It really isn't just semantics, because the second set is much more accurate. Doctors and school administrators don't always have time to know each child, so the child is painted with the broad brushstrokes of the behaviors listed in the DSM. Bothof my sons will both focus (and thrive!) when drawn in by a skilled teacher (or their own interest) and challenged.
The title of the blog was drawn out from that chapter. With exams stressing me out more than they stress out my son, I have to keep looking for the pony. He will get grades that tell him he isn't good enough, but I need to convince him he is. To make it believable, I need to convince myself.
14 February 2011
You know when the men are gone
Shameless plug for my former neighbor from the Ft Hood area, Siobhan Fallon.
The title of her book is You Know When the Men Are Gone and she is on a book tour right now. I went to the reading here in VA, but tried not to listen too much because I hadn't read the book and didn't want to hear any spoilers. Weird, I know.
It is a good read- a collection of inter-related short stories about the soldiers and families of a unit at Ft Hood, their deployment and reintegration. While I enjoyed it, I found myself disturbed as well.
Naturally, messed up circumstances make for good stories (like Anna Karenina or Madame Bovary), but I worry that there really is too much adultery committed between the characters. YIKES!!!! One of the stories recounts the (never confirmed) affair between an NCO and a female soldier while in Iraq. Because IEDs aren't enough to worry about, now everyone can chew on that until our soldiers return.
I do wonder what type of impression it leaves on the civilians who will read it. Women whose only knowledge of the military comes from watching NCIS and Army Wives. Siobhan did a great job of capturing the emptiness felt during a deployment, but I wonder about the other stuff. Will it give the impression that we are all heart-broken, but easy? I, and I think this is true for most of us, had an enormously boring, but utterly fantastic, group of friends. We hung out with each other and our kids. It could be because a lot of the characters were somewhat (okay, A LOT) younger than me. Their marriages were younger and less tested through the ups and downs of many years. Some had no children. But I just can't comprehend some of the choices they made.
Personally, I don't worry. I think my marriage is strong (right, honey?) and he couldn't afford to divorce me anyway. ;)
For those not in the military, when a couple has been married for 10 years of the soldier's military service, the spouse is entitled to half of the soldier's retirement if they divorce. Not to mention child support, etc. And I have heard of spouses asking family court judges deny custody to soldiers just because they are still in the Army. Divorce is such an ugly thing. Usually only the lawyers come out on top.
Anyway, give it a read. I'd love to hear what you think. Did it ring true to you, or trend too dramatic?
The title of her book is You Know When the Men Are Gone and she is on a book tour right now. I went to the reading here in VA, but tried not to listen too much because I hadn't read the book and didn't want to hear any spoilers. Weird, I know.
It is a good read- a collection of inter-related short stories about the soldiers and families of a unit at Ft Hood, their deployment and reintegration. While I enjoyed it, I found myself disturbed as well.
Naturally, messed up circumstances make for good stories (like Anna Karenina or Madame Bovary), but I worry that there really is too much adultery committed between the characters. YIKES!!!! One of the stories recounts the (never confirmed) affair between an NCO and a female soldier while in Iraq. Because IEDs aren't enough to worry about, now everyone can chew on that until our soldiers return.
I do wonder what type of impression it leaves on the civilians who will read it. Women whose only knowledge of the military comes from watching NCIS and Army Wives. Siobhan did a great job of capturing the emptiness felt during a deployment, but I wonder about the other stuff. Will it give the impression that we are all heart-broken, but easy? I, and I think this is true for most of us, had an enormously boring, but utterly fantastic, group of friends. We hung out with each other and our kids. It could be because a lot of the characters were somewhat (okay, A LOT) younger than me. Their marriages were younger and less tested through the ups and downs of many years. Some had no children. But I just can't comprehend some of the choices they made.
Personally, I don't worry. I think my marriage is strong (right, honey?) and he couldn't afford to divorce me anyway. ;)
For those not in the military, when a couple has been married for 10 years of the soldier's military service, the spouse is entitled to half of the soldier's retirement if they divorce. Not to mention child support, etc. And I have heard of spouses asking family court judges deny custody to soldiers just because they are still in the Army. Divorce is such an ugly thing. Usually only the lawyers come out on top.
Anyway, give it a read. I'd love to hear what you think. Did it ring true to you, or trend too dramatic?
03 February 2011
As good as it gets?
I think it may be right here, in DC.
Sometimes, I think it's kind of like a black hole. Obviously, I mean black hole in the astro-physics sense. (Not "Black Hole of Calcutta" sense) So dense, with such a strong gravitational pull, that NOTHING can escape. The difference being that after a little bit, you don't want to escape. You've been sucked in. And you like it.
I came to northern Virginia because this is where my husband's family is. Every day the high stays below 40, I miss Texas a little bit more. The irony is that my husband and I are both rolling stones. We both left home fairly young, and planned on living in lots of other places. You know- join the Army, see the world. So where am I? 20 miles from the house he grew up in. Point being, I wasn't sitting in Central TX pining for NOVA.
But God has a sense of humor.
It is kind of strange to move to a place where one doesn't really need to make new friends, because friends from previous duty stations all moved here also. Not bad, just odd. And it is just what happens in DC- a part of normal career progression for a lot of people.
I am not a big fan of the non-stop traffic. Or the high cost of living. Or the rude people. But, 9 months later, I can see why people get sucked in. I understand why spouses get here and try to dig in their heels, battling the current of the Army, which is trying to drag them back to "real" posts.
Unlike other places I have lived, there are an overwhelming number of locations one can live in. Figuring out WHERE to look for a house was much harder than finding a house I liked. There are lots of schools here that are the best in the NATION, not "the best you can do in KISD". And they are public schools, so military families can actually send their kids (presuming you can find a house in that school zone).
Some people here work longer than others, but they come home at night. Spouses worry about accidents on the Beltway, not IEDs. If your soldier gets snagged for a deployment from the Pentagon, most of them are 6 months. There are people here with no combat patches. (Can my husband switch into that career field?)
I live 5 miles from a Trader Joe's. Nothing like a little "Two buck Chuck" to help the deployment along. If I want to drive 15 miles, I can have ANYTHING. It's all right here.
I feel the pull. I am slowly getting sucked in.
#1 is headed toward high school. Is there anywhere the Army could send us next year where the high school wouldn't be a huge let-down? What about the other kids and their schools? Not only are there great public elementary schools, but, from my preferred neighborhood, I could throw a rock and hit THREE Catholic schools, ranging from very good to Blue Ribbon.
It is kind of depressing to see what is possible, knowing that I won't get to keep it. We will leave, and I will go back to "the Real Army", where there are only 2 towns to live in, and only one school that I would even consider putting my kids in. It will probably have only 1 Catholic Church, without a school. I will find and patronize the commissary, the post gym and the CDC. I will join the wives club and the FRG. I will put on my big-girl pants and drive on. But I will carry with me a sense of lost opportunity.
It reminds me of window shopping when I was a kid in NYC. Wandering along the avenues, looking at all the amazing window displays, walking through the stores, taking it all in, knowing it wasn't going to be mine anytime soon.
Ahhh, MDW. You promise so much, but only for a short while.
Sometimes, I think it's kind of like a black hole. Obviously, I mean black hole in the astro-physics sense. (Not "Black Hole of Calcutta" sense) So dense, with such a strong gravitational pull, that NOTHING can escape. The difference being that after a little bit, you don't want to escape. You've been sucked in. And you like it.
I came to northern Virginia because this is where my husband's family is. Every day the high stays below 40, I miss Texas a little bit more. The irony is that my husband and I are both rolling stones. We both left home fairly young, and planned on living in lots of other places. You know- join the Army, see the world. So where am I? 20 miles from the house he grew up in. Point being, I wasn't sitting in Central TX pining for NOVA.
But God has a sense of humor.
It is kind of strange to move to a place where one doesn't really need to make new friends, because friends from previous duty stations all moved here also. Not bad, just odd. And it is just what happens in DC- a part of normal career progression for a lot of people.
I am not a big fan of the non-stop traffic. Or the high cost of living. Or the rude people. But, 9 months later, I can see why people get sucked in. I understand why spouses get here and try to dig in their heels, battling the current of the Army, which is trying to drag them back to "real" posts.
Unlike other places I have lived, there are an overwhelming number of locations one can live in. Figuring out WHERE to look for a house was much harder than finding a house I liked. There are lots of schools here that are the best in the NATION, not "the best you can do in KISD". And they are public schools, so military families can actually send their kids (presuming you can find a house in that school zone).
Some people here work longer than others, but they come home at night. Spouses worry about accidents on the Beltway, not IEDs. If your soldier gets snagged for a deployment from the Pentagon, most of them are 6 months. There are people here with no combat patches. (Can my husband switch into that career field?)
I live 5 miles from a Trader Joe's. Nothing like a little "Two buck Chuck" to help the deployment along. If I want to drive 15 miles, I can have ANYTHING. It's all right here.
I feel the pull. I am slowly getting sucked in.
#1 is headed toward high school. Is there anywhere the Army could send us next year where the high school wouldn't be a huge let-down? What about the other kids and their schools? Not only are there great public elementary schools, but, from my preferred neighborhood, I could throw a rock and hit THREE Catholic schools, ranging from very good to Blue Ribbon.
It is kind of depressing to see what is possible, knowing that I won't get to keep it. We will leave, and I will go back to "the Real Army", where there are only 2 towns to live in, and only one school that I would even consider putting my kids in. It will probably have only 1 Catholic Church, without a school. I will find and patronize the commissary, the post gym and the CDC. I will join the wives club and the FRG. I will put on my big-girl pants and drive on. But I will carry with me a sense of lost opportunity.
It reminds me of window shopping when I was a kid in NYC. Wandering along the avenues, looking at all the amazing window displays, walking through the stores, taking it all in, knowing it wasn't going to be mine anytime soon.
Ahhh, MDW. You promise so much, but only for a short while.
01 February 2011
The last fleeting moments
The last 24 hours of EML. Is there a way to stretch them out? To stop these last precious minutes and hours from slipping away? The last 14 days have been fabulous. Thanks to Old Man Winter, the kids didn't even miss much school. We went down to the aquarium. We swam at the Great Wolf Lodge. He got to watch #6 take her first steps. He built snow forts with the kids in the front yard.
But time is just about up.
Now I am trying to find a way to keep the feeling of his hug, the look in his eyes, all those things that I will miss most. I am savoring the lower stress level that results from his mere presence at home. How do I hold these things? I am the queen of storage and organization, but nothing that I or the Container Store can dream up will fit the bill. I'll have to rely on memory. I hope these last months pass quickly, so that I can feel all these things again, instead of simply longing for them.
So, today, I will spend the whole day right next to him- looking at him, hearing his voice, holding his hand. Tomorrow, I go back to waiting.
But time is just about up.
Now I am trying to find a way to keep the feeling of his hug, the look in his eyes, all those things that I will miss most. I am savoring the lower stress level that results from his mere presence at home. How do I hold these things? I am the queen of storage and organization, but nothing that I or the Container Store can dream up will fit the bill. I'll have to rely on memory. I hope these last months pass quickly, so that I can feel all these things again, instead of simply longing for them.
So, today, I will spend the whole day right next to him- looking at him, hearing his voice, holding his hand. Tomorrow, I go back to waiting.
27 January 2011
In a funk on R&R and I think it's the Army's fault
Just doesn't seem right, you know?
We were at the Great Wolf Lodge here in VA (the one in Grapevine, TX is the best, by far!). Everybody is sliding and swimming, just having a grand old time. And the third (and last) morning, I wake up in a big, old funk.
Not really sure where it came from. My husband is HOME for crying out loud. I should be ECSTATIC and completely un-funked. It seems, well, ungrateful. I can't tease out the actual cause. I think it is because my head is just so full. Full of all those military wife and mom things.
We are (okay, mostly me) trying to find a house for when my husband comes back. I can't even decide on cities, schools, anything. All the options have flaws and we have no idea what will happen to us after the 12 month of school. How do I account for all those possibilities? I feel more and more certain that #1 will attend at least 2 high schools. Do I just not mention it to him until it's too late?
Remember how GW Bush said he was "the decider"? I feel his pain. I think I am burned out on deciding. So I am going on strike. No more decisions will be made for at least 24 hours.
Take that, Army.
We were at the Great Wolf Lodge here in VA (the one in Grapevine, TX is the best, by far!). Everybody is sliding and swimming, just having a grand old time. And the third (and last) morning, I wake up in a big, old funk.
Not really sure where it came from. My husband is HOME for crying out loud. I should be ECSTATIC and completely un-funked. It seems, well, ungrateful. I can't tease out the actual cause. I think it is because my head is just so full. Full of all those military wife and mom things.
We are (okay, mostly me) trying to find a house for when my husband comes back. I can't even decide on cities, schools, anything. All the options have flaws and we have no idea what will happen to us after the 12 month of school. How do I account for all those possibilities? I feel more and more certain that #1 will attend at least 2 high schools. Do I just not mention it to him until it's too late?
Remember how GW Bush said he was "the decider"? I feel his pain. I think I am burned out on deciding. So I am going on strike. No more decisions will be made for at least 24 hours.
Take that, Army.
06 January 2011
my out of sync friends
I have several good friends whose husbands are exactly off-cycle of my husband. They could have high-fived in the airport in Kuwait as they passed each other by (they didn't, but it's a fun thought). Some of them lived near me, most didn't. I love these women, but the deployment overtakes so many aspects of our lives, that it influences our friendships.
When my husband deployed immediately (less than 30 days) after we arrived at Ft Hood, it was rough. Looking on facebook at pics of friends (and their soldiers!) who left our last duty station and were not immediately deployed was even tougher. It was a feeling somewhere between envy and feeling like I stepped in dog poop and they didn't.
They are my friends. I was happy to see them happy. But there that feeling was. Just sitting there. It would take up residence in some dark crevice of my mind, reappearing in weak, lonely moments. Family vacation pics, Christmas pics, birthday pics. Stuff that made me stay closer to my "deployed" friends, who I could call at 9:30pm on a Saturday night because they were watching TV alone also.
These feelings are petty, for sure. No one was trying to rub their husbands' luck at not being currently deployed in any one's face. But reason and logic are the first things to go when you haven't slept well in four months because your husband is gone, and you feel like you have to stay up late just in case there is a noise or something. (Noise-hearing while asleep is my husband's job. He's good at it. I am not. Hence, less sleep.) At the same time, these were the friends who were not so stressed out and managed to brighten my holiday with Christmas cards, or sent birthday messages, or called to see how I was. They knew how I felt (being Army wives also), but were in a better place to listen because they weren't in the thick of it.
Off-cycle friends at the same duty station are different too. I hardly ever saw them (unless they lived close by). Partially because our spouses were in different units, but also because they spent weekends and vacations as a family. Soaking up whatever dwell time they were going to get. My family linked up with other families missing their soldier, ordering pizza and movies and making margaritas to pass the days more pleasantly. I swear there was one woman I knew from another place that I didn't see at all until after her husband left. Kind of funny, really.
I treasure my friends whose lives happen to be 180' off mine. They are great people. But sometimes I think we remind each other of the painful realities of this life. I can never be completely content that my husband is home, because my friend is aching with loneliness. As I celebrate the approach of EML and (eventually) redeployment, another friend (whose husband's unit is quite literally replacing my husband's unit in Afghanistan) is watching the days slip away as her soldier's deployment date approaches.
I think part of the beauty and strength of the spouse community is this collective waiting. Even as we greet our soldiers, we have to push away the thoughts of next time. We are painful reminders to each other, but who doesn't tear up when they see the picture of a friend reuniting with their soldier?
I think this time, after my husband returns, I need to make sure I perform random acts of kindness for my deployed friends. Just little things, so they know they're not alone. After all, one year from now, we'll be in each other's shoes. And the merry-go-round spins on.
When my husband deployed immediately (less than 30 days) after we arrived at Ft Hood, it was rough. Looking on facebook at pics of friends (and their soldiers!) who left our last duty station and were not immediately deployed was even tougher. It was a feeling somewhere between envy and feeling like I stepped in dog poop and they didn't.
They are my friends. I was happy to see them happy. But there that feeling was. Just sitting there. It would take up residence in some dark crevice of my mind, reappearing in weak, lonely moments. Family vacation pics, Christmas pics, birthday pics. Stuff that made me stay closer to my "deployed" friends, who I could call at 9:30pm on a Saturday night because they were watching TV alone also.
These feelings are petty, for sure. No one was trying to rub their husbands' luck at not being currently deployed in any one's face. But reason and logic are the first things to go when you haven't slept well in four months because your husband is gone, and you feel like you have to stay up late just in case there is a noise or something. (Noise-hearing while asleep is my husband's job. He's good at it. I am not. Hence, less sleep.) At the same time, these were the friends who were not so stressed out and managed to brighten my holiday with Christmas cards, or sent birthday messages, or called to see how I was. They knew how I felt (being Army wives also), but were in a better place to listen because they weren't in the thick of it.
Off-cycle friends at the same duty station are different too. I hardly ever saw them (unless they lived close by). Partially because our spouses were in different units, but also because they spent weekends and vacations as a family. Soaking up whatever dwell time they were going to get. My family linked up with other families missing their soldier, ordering pizza and movies and making margaritas to pass the days more pleasantly. I swear there was one woman I knew from another place that I didn't see at all until after her husband left. Kind of funny, really.
I treasure my friends whose lives happen to be 180' off mine. They are great people. But sometimes I think we remind each other of the painful realities of this life. I can never be completely content that my husband is home, because my friend is aching with loneliness. As I celebrate the approach of EML and (eventually) redeployment, another friend (whose husband's unit is quite literally replacing my husband's unit in Afghanistan) is watching the days slip away as her soldier's deployment date approaches.
I think part of the beauty and strength of the spouse community is this collective waiting. Even as we greet our soldiers, we have to push away the thoughts of next time. We are painful reminders to each other, but who doesn't tear up when they see the picture of a friend reuniting with their soldier?
I think this time, after my husband returns, I need to make sure I perform random acts of kindness for my deployed friends. Just little things, so they know they're not alone. After all, one year from now, we'll be in each other's shoes. And the merry-go-round spins on.
05 January 2011
The winter of the deployment
Wow, I was gone a long time. We travelled for Christmas, to my mom's vacation home where there is no high-speed internet. Come on now, let's make the dial-up noise together. kuuuuuuuch, beee-ooop, beee-oop.... It's good to be home.
December was a dark month, both literally and emotionally. It is darker and colder here than in Texas. I was struggling just to hold on and make it to bedtime each day. I would say a prayer every night that the next day would (surely!) be better, only to be just as beat down the next night and utter the same prayer.
Enter the New Year.
Why does January 2011 seem so very much closer to June 2011? It is no different from going from November to December. Why was I positively gleeful when I ripped (literally) the 2010 calendar from the wall and tossed it in the trash with the poopy diapers (which is where it belongs, IMO)?
For some (stupid) reason, a corner has been turned in my mind. My husband leaves FOB Middleofnowhere to come home for EML in less than 2 weeks. (Naturally, I don't know exactly which day, but then I could make plans. And where is the fun in that?) I thought EML was 14 days, but I guess it is 15. That extra 24 hours feels huge! We also know that he will have to come home a few weeks (not much, but hey...) early this summer to make the start of the school he'll be attending. Yay!
MY HUSBAND COMES HOME THIS YEAR!!!!
I know my military spouse brethren understand how much better that sounds than "next year", even though it is just an artificial construct of time. It is a huge psychological hurdle. And we're over it. Next up- EML (or R&R, whichever you prefer).
Everyday is still long and exhausting, but I have things to look forward to in the short term that boost my morale. R&R. Finding a place for us here in VA. Not planning on how to drag me and my peeps (and our stuff) over to KS.
I know many of my friends are facing this new year as I faced the last one- with that pit in my stomach over the looming deployment. I wish I could hug every single one of you (and pour some wine). I can't wait til this is over for all of us.
December was a dark month, both literally and emotionally. It is darker and colder here than in Texas. I was struggling just to hold on and make it to bedtime each day. I would say a prayer every night that the next day would (surely!) be better, only to be just as beat down the next night and utter the same prayer.
Enter the New Year.
Why does January 2011 seem so very much closer to June 2011? It is no different from going from November to December. Why was I positively gleeful when I ripped (literally) the 2010 calendar from the wall and tossed it in the trash with the poopy diapers (which is where it belongs, IMO)?
For some (stupid) reason, a corner has been turned in my mind. My husband leaves FOB Middleofnowhere to come home for EML in less than 2 weeks. (Naturally, I don't know exactly which day, but then I could make plans. And where is the fun in that?) I thought EML was 14 days, but I guess it is 15. That extra 24 hours feels huge! We also know that he will have to come home a few weeks (not much, but hey...) early this summer to make the start of the school he'll be attending. Yay!
MY HUSBAND COMES HOME THIS YEAR!!!!
I know my military spouse brethren understand how much better that sounds than "next year", even though it is just an artificial construct of time. It is a huge psychological hurdle. And we're over it. Next up- EML (or R&R, whichever you prefer).
Everyday is still long and exhausting, but I have things to look forward to in the short term that boost my morale. R&R. Finding a place for us here in VA. Not planning on how to drag me and my peeps (and our stuff) over to KS.
I know many of my friends are facing this new year as I faced the last one- with that pit in my stomach over the looming deployment. I wish I could hug every single one of you (and pour some wine). I can't wait til this is over for all of us.
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