About Me

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Married to GI Joe, and the Mother to GI Joe Jr (whom is currently addicted to the Wonderful World of Superheroes), I'm a WV Hillbilly plunked down in a subdivision. I have a backyard garden, crazy neighbors, and a goofy dog that we love on Tuesdays. We love to travel and explore new things, so feel free to browse our life. Sometimes it is exciting, most of the time it is just life. But we are having a good time at it.

Friday, March 25, 2011

I'm going to bite Reality...before it bites Me

Yesterday evening, we went to the beach and played in the sand for two hours, until it got too cool and windy to justify being out there much longer.

During that time...we had a conversation with a family from Canada.

And when it came up that The Husband was going Overseas...The Canadian Husband said 'You act like he's going to the store or something...not gone for a year'

I guess I do.

What else am I supposed to do?

Everytime it comes up...should I start wailing and pulling at my hair?

Because that is what I really really want to do. 

But I am a Soldier's Wife...I can't do anything about his Orders, or his Job. 

My heart can be breaking into a thousand pieces but I have to stand there and take it...and smile...or grimace.  Whatever.

I can't snap in front of The Toddler, because this is not going to be a Big Deal.

Daddy is Going to Drill.  That's it.  That's all.

It is what it is.

And I am scared...and worried...and reality has sunk in.

Especially when I set the timer on our camera and took our required family beach picture.

This is it...the countdown is on.

Just sitting there watching The Toddler shovel sand...it hit me...this is It.

And soon The Husband will be gone...for a year. 

And this is going to suuuuuuck.

So BITE ME Reality.  You can just BITE the big one before you Bite Me.

I already know this is going to suck.

I already know I am going to cry and throw a tantrum in the next few weeks.

I already know I am going to get bitter and bitchy.

So there...I'll Bite YOU First.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Personal Questions

We are on vacation...YAY!

The Husband leaves in a few weeks for overseas...BOO!

The Toddler has had an absolute blast on our trip...YAY!

All three of us are having a great time...and maid service is divine.

But if I get one more stinking personal ass question from people about the fact that he is an Only Child...I'm gonna drop kick someone into the Lazy River.  I am.  I really am.

This vacation has REALLY brought out the people who feel it is up to them to question our Decision to have Only One.  It's been constant.  And annoying.

Folks...I CHOSE not to procreate more than once.  It was a very deeply personal decision that The Husband and I made.

He left when The Toddler was a week old for a year to Iraq.

I had UNBELIEVABLE post partum depression.

The Toddler was soooo sick that I am not sure how I maintained a shred of sanity.

And we are happy with ONE.

I do not feel the need to stretch myself out even more.

I do not feel the need to explain it to you either....We use the 'we're good with One' when asked in casual conversation how many we have, or if we are planning more.  It usually stops there.  Sometimes it doesn't...then heeeeeere we go.

It's not a financial thing...that's probably the last Con on The List.

It's an emotional thing and 'we are happy with our ONE' thing.


None of your business 'Why'. 

None of your business 'But He Will Be Lonely'. 

None of the knowing smiles and the 'Oh, you'll feel different later'.


And don't give me that damned 'Oh, you never know!'  Yes I freaking do.  The Husband did the right thing for us and took care of the issue.  I'm not sharing that with you either.  None of your business.  Like the rest of the conversation.  Can we talk about something else other than my reproductive cycle?  Cause...that's what we are really talking about here...  you know that right?

Or my favorite...the 'oh...he's an Only' thing.  Whatever the heck that means.  Usually...it's a thinly veiled jab at the fact I am actually playing with my kid or talking to my kid...rather than letting it run amuck and terrorize other kids.

(Not ALL parents do this...but it seems as if the ones who do allow their children to run wild... feel the most  need to criticize my choice to have Only One)

And to the Chick at the pool this morning with your FIVE children... that chose to tell me how to get my cranky three year old to love the water as much as her weird two year old, suck it.  And then informed me 'oh, I have five...I pretty much know everything'.

You should have stopped there...and we could have ignored each other in silence.

But no...you had to freaking push.

I conversationally said 'oh we're good with just The One' when you asked if he was 'It'.

Then you had to keep going.

And pushing.

'But he will be lonely'  No he won't.

'He won't learn to play with others'  He's doing just fine right now with your weird kid.

(Don't EVER mention your child is in daycare to Those Moms...that's a whole other Judgment down upon your Only Child Bearing Head)

'But don't you want more'  No.  We are good with One.

I tried walking away.

Sick of The Game now thanks...you just HAD to keep plucking.

'Why?!'  OMG...Really.  NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS.  There I said it.

Really...I am not that stunning of an example of genetics that requires me to breed.  Really...you aren't either lady.

And your 'sorry to offend you' didn't work either.

You didn't offend me...you just didn't shut up fast enough when I said it was 'none of your business'.

If I had been offended, you would have known I was offended.  I was sick of talking to you and your self righteous all knowing self.

Really...none of your business.

You're lucky I didn't ask if you had another hobby other than sex and obstetrics.

But there were kids there...and you were annoying me.

I haven't asked one single person with multiple children WHY DO YOU HAVE SO MANY?  Honestly, I don't care.  Inside I am wondering if you are insane...but I will not walk up to you and ask...I won't.

I promise.

I haven't asked one single person with multiple children anything personal...ever.

Stop judging those of us with One Child.

There are some deep reasons as to why people choose to have One.


It's freaking personal.

None of your business.

Not up for discussion.

We are very happy with our beautiful, bright, loving, happy Gift.  He's our One.

Next time someone asks me why we are choosing to have Only One...I'm going to ask when their last period was...what they pay in mortgage...results of last PAP smear...what their credit score is...

You know...since we are asking incredibly personal questions...why not?

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

It's my Party...

I might cry today...

I'm turning 36 today.

I don't know why that is giving me an anxiety attack.

It's just 36.
Not 40 for crying out loud.
But 40 is now a hell of a lot closer than it was.

I should be happy that I am turning a healthy 36...

Well...other than the raging pinched nerve in my neck that has my shoulder in a freaking knot...and will probably require more freaking physical therapy to get it working right again for a while. 

Or the damned 'freckle' that the opthamologist found in my eye and is now sending me to have digital pictures taken in two weeks so that they can monitor it and make sure it doesn't turn into 'melanoma'.  Yeah...not a word you EVER expect to hear at the eye doctors office.  That's a whole new thing for me to Google the hell out of.  It's quite common...but I didn't have my laptop handy in the docs office, so I was practically twitching from lack of info until The Husband handed me his IPhone at lunch so I could look it up.  *sigh*   And then I bought the biggest pair of polarized sunglasses ever in the history of me buying sunglasses...because that put the fear of everything in me.

Or the fact I am seeing a counselor to deal with issues in regards to The Deployment.

I'm gonna have to mention 'the freckle' at the next visit.

But hey...35 was fairly good to me:
I still have a job.
The Toddler is growing by leaps and bounds.
All of our bills are paid.
I didn't wig out on anyone.
It was a pretty good year.

I looked for gray hairs last night.  So far, I have none.  But I am also blonde...and hoping that they aren't hiding in there...and just keeping the thought that I don't have any as my 'I'm aging really well' mantra.

The girls I work with...they all talk about lines and wrinkles.  I don't have any.  My face is nice and fat...so that is one plus to being about twenty pounds overweight.  I have plump fresh skin...or plump anyway.

I am sporting a fresh set of highlights in my hair.  A little too highlighted...but that is what happens when you do a home job and The Toddler and The Husband interrupt you and you lose track of time.  But they look 'sun kissed'...or 'sun slobbered' really.  They'll be fine.

I'm just freaking out a little. 

My mom was my age when I was in first grade. Was she really my age when I was 6?   Because she was such a MOM....I never thought of her as anything else.  

I met The Husband when I was 17...and turned 18 two months later.  We have now been together more than half of our lives...

Holy Crap.

Ok...another heart palpitation...

Let me get through 36 in one piece please...Thanks.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

It's all in the Details...

The Husband got his Deployment Details.
And it's put me in a Deployment Slump.
I guess it became reality when we got dates to write on the calendar and to work around.
When it's just 'out there', then there really isn't a reality to it.
There is now.
There is paperwork and everything.
We know where he is going.
He knows what he is going to do.
We know when he is leaving.
Let's just say, it's a tad earlier than we had thought, and it was a hard pill to swallow.
But it's ok.  The faster he goes, the faster he comes home.

But in all seriousness, I am worried about this next year.
I am terribly worried about him and his safety. 
I don't want those cars pulling up in my driveway with the uniformed military members and their somber expressions.
This is the Man I grew up with.  We were high school sweethearts.  We've been together over half our lives, we share a beautiful little boy that is having problems keeping his clothes on at daycare (a whole other story).
This is the Man I love.

I'm worried about doing it all again.
The first deployment was, in all honesty, a freaking living hell.
I was miserable with a newborn, post partum depression, trying to work full time, keep my sanity, and had a kid who stayed sick.
I had pressure from everywhere...my job, myself.

This time I am doing things different, but I am still really worried about my sanity.
So I am seeing a counselor starting this week. 

I think I have my ducks in a row....psychiatric counselor....housekeeper (still freaking trying to hire one by the way), doggie daycare for the Dog once a week or so, babysitter for The Toddler once a month. 

I'm just desperately trying to grasp this bull by the horns....but I really don't want to lift my arms up and do it...I'm just exhausted thinking about it.

I thought about quitting my job while he was gone...but then remembered that I kind of need one when he gets back home.  This is not exactly the best economy to mess around with employment status. 

My Employer is pretty good about working with me and everything that goes on.  I am lucky in that regard.

My parents will be able to come and help some when I need them too.  If it hadn't been for my mom last time, I'm not sure what I would have done.  She also made me nuts and made me second guess myself on everything, but that too, is a whole other story.

So the next few weeks will be a whirl wind of getting stuff together and grasping the whole situation.  I know it is his job, and I know it is his duty...and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it.  But somewhere along the way, I'll have a wall kicking, snot fest and tantrum. 

Last time I balled his uniforms up and kicked them down our stairwell and stomped them. 

Yes I did.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Getting Religion...

We have “Come to Jesus Meetings” at our house.
This means, if you are acting up, and threats of removing toy, TV program, or in my husbands case…computer time, doesn’t work. 
We go to a quiet corner in the restaurant, camper show, store, etc…and we have a “Come To Jesus meeting”.  Most of the time it is a bathroom stall…and as I go in, I explain in a loud voice to those who are present “he is three and we are about to have a Come To Jesus meeting”.  I usually get silence, but sometimes a chuckle.
Basically, I (or The Husband if I didn’t catch on first), will kneel down in front of the sorrowful Toddler and explain very seriously what he was doing and why it was not appropriate.  The talk can last thirty seconds, or in some cases, a few minutes. 
“Come to Jesus meetings” usually work really well.
It give the Toddler a moment to correct himself and get his head out of his butt.
It gives us a moment to chill and reset the situation.
This morning…I am explaining to The Toddler on the way to daycare that we are going out to dinner tonight with The Husband’s Friend Rick and he needs to show his manners. 
The Toddler contemplates this and asks if we are going to Elm Copawow…
His favorite Mexican restaurant that he cannot pronounce.
Yes we are.
He pauses.
Then says “Yes.  Cause I don’t want to go to the bathroom and see Jesus”
Me either babe…me either.

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