Its All Bitter Sweet

Today is The Fourth of July.  Today we celebrate our nation's birthday.  This is the day we all wear red, white, and blue, and come together to show our pride as a country.  It is also one of those days when we are especially thankful for those who have served in uniform.  The members of our military, who have kept our nation safe, and have ensured we are able to enjoy all of our freedoms, today and everyday, are in the for front of many of our thoughts.  I know they are in mine.  I have spent Independence days with out my husband.  We have been separated, instead of celebrating, while he was out keeping us safe, patrolling our water ways, transporting enemy combatants, airlifting the injured to medical help, and what ever else our nation ask of him.
So, today, I think of all those families around me right now, and how their lives are impacted this July Fourth, by the vital jobs someone in their families do.
Then, I think about next year, when we won't be a military family anymore.  This is very likely the last year we will get to see "The Big Bay Boom" with all the fireworks displays over San Diego Bay, an incredible sight to see.  We won't be driving on base next year, since even if we stay in Southern California, we will be too far away, to enjoy the show, and pal around with the people he works with on the roof top of his building.  We won't be dong any of that.  He won't even work with those people any more.
I find myself trying to enjoy things a little more, maybe looking at the little things a bit differently, because I realize how final it all could be.
The military, and the lifestyle that accompanies it, has been a part of everything we do, for the entirety of the time that I have known my husband.  I see that ending, and honestly, its a little like seeing a death coming from far out.  I try not to be morose about it all, but when you are staring down the barrel of a very uncertain future, its hard not to be.
I need to take the time to enjoy what we have, and not miss it now, but again, that's hard to do.
I will try, though.  For the next 3 and a half weeks, because that is all we have left, I will try my best to celebrate the life we have had, and not mourn it.  I will try to enjoy the time, places, and people that we know, and not miss them before I am gone.  I will.  More importantly, I will try my best to look forward to our future, instead of constantly looking back.  Its hard, but I will try.
no one ever told me, though, that one of the hardest parts of being a military family is the leaving, and I wish they would have.  Perhaps then I would have been more prepared for this.  Perhaps.
So, Please enjoy your day.  Celebrate.  Take pride in everything that makes our nation great.  Remember those who have fought, or are fighting, to keep us free.  Thank you, and happy Fourth!

I Know I Have Gone Insane

I'm updating my blog, not really because I want to at the moment.  In fact, I would much, much rather be sleeping, like the rest of the people in my house.  However, in 18 minutes, I can grab more booth slots for my Girl Scouts.  So, even though every little person in currently snoozing away, I'm up.  Here.  For you.  No.  For me.  Whining.
Its moments like these that I realize just how insane I am.  Even though I am currently in this alone, since my co leader had to move quickly thanks to military life, and my husband is still yet deployed, I am going, full throttle, into a cookie season where I am leader, cookie parent, and more.  All of that, along with running my moms group, volunteering at my daughter's school, and simply trying to survive with three kids all by myself isn't easy, in fact, sometimes it feels like I suffocating. I know I'm not though.  I'm going to muddle through each and every bit of this, and ride the tide of crazy that comes along with doing too much sometimes.  I know I can handle this.  I may not do the best job that any one has ever done on all of it, but it will all get done, and that is just going to have to be good enough.  I may not have the time to take long showers and get my hair done, or keep myself looking like I want to, but those things aren't really important in the grand scheme of life.  I can be a little unkempt.  I can wear nothing but jeans and t-shirts, if that is where life takes me.  If I brush my hair as I am walking out the door, and the first mirror I look in is the rear view when I take off each day, so be it.  For the moment, that may be the best I can do.
So, you will have to excuse me as I keep this post short.  I'm about to go pick times to take my kids and stand in front of a whole bunch of stores, trying to sell cookies.  I may go looking like I've been raised by wolves, but I will be there.

Things I Can't Wait for

We are seriously counting down the days until my husband comes back.  I don't know his return time yet, or believe me, I would be counting down the hours, too.  We are that close.  I suppose close is relative, of course.  We do, after all, still have a tiny bit to go.  I'm willing to bet that this last bit is going to fly by.  We have a lot to do.  We have to make a new banner to put in front of the house.  I think we might wrap the door, too.  I need to get the house clean. Yikes!  That's a big one.
In the mean time, I thought I would share all the great things that come with his return, or at least some of them.

Things I am looking forward to when my husband comes home: (In no particular order)

• Sex (let's just be honest)
• Taking a shower with the bathroom door closed, and no one opening it
• Going to the bathroom to potty with the door closed.
• Sex (Come on, its been 7 months.  That deserves two mentions.)
• Having adult conversation without going out of the house to find it.
• Not being the one to do the dishes.
• Being able to go get coffee with my friends.
• Yelling "Not It!" when we both discover The Littlest One has a dirty diaper and actually having someone else do it.
• Sleeping and snuggling with someone taller than me.
• Being able to lay on his chest at night. (Man do I miss this.)
• Sex - What? I mention that already...twice...oh...well...
• Sitting on the couch, drinking a Mike's, and watching The Big Bang Theory together (one of our favorite past times).
• Pizza Sundays, when we all make pizza together. 
• Family time.  Any family time.  
• Co-parenting.  God I miss that.  
• His laugh.
• How much he makes me laugh.
• Seeing him with The Girls, and watching him be the incredible dad he is.
• Hugs

Honestly, I could go on forever.  I would start crying though, if I went on much more.  I miss him.  We all miss him.  It won't be long, though.  Really.  I can almost feel his arms around me now.  I can't wait.

And Now They are All Crying

Mondays are Girl Scout days around here.  We spend most of the day prepping for Scouts, and then we have meetings at 4pm.  Even dinner revolves on Scouts on Monday, because I generally go for the crock pot so that we are ready to go as soon as the last girl leaves.
Today, was supposed to be just another meeting.  We were to focus on our cookie goals.  The whole cookie process, much as I loathe it, is designed to be a teaching tool for the girls.  The money they earn is to be ear marked for both community service and fun stuff.  So, before the season starts, we pick a community service project that we will be spending our proceeds on.  I take suggestions from the girls, and then see which ones are actually feasible (we physically build houses for people that don't have any, not right now anyway) and then they get to vote on them and decide for themselves what to do.  I love that part of everything, and it is probably one of the only reasons I actually go through with all this.
To get to all those great ideas, though, requires a lot of thought and work from the girls.  They have to identify who they want to help, and how.  Can we do it?  We will we have the money?
The fist thing we do is have a brainstorming session.  I go round and round, asking each girl for a new idea until they just run out.  Then ,we go through the list.  Tonight's idea's were interesting.  We had a huge discussion about buying goats for families in Africa.  The next idea was much more tame.  Someone wanted to do something to help the deployed troops.  Very nice.  One little girl, the only one in my entire troop not from a military family, raised her hand and ask what that meant.  I ask the girls who could explain it to her.  Every other hand shot up.  Since her father is actually deployed at this moment, I let The Big One explain.  She got about one sentence out before she broke down.  I believe all she said was "Sometimes, Dads have to leave to...." That was it.  That was all she could say.  She was sobbing nearly instantly.
The girl who ask looked shocked.  She didn't understand.
Since we were all sitting together on the floor, I schooched over to The Big One, put my arms around her, petting her head, and told the other little girl that sometimes, moms and dads have to leave.  They have to travel around the world to fight for our nation, to keep us safe, and do lots of important jobs.  Its hard when they do, because we miss them so much, but they have to go to keep us all safe.  They will come back as soon as they can, though.  Then, I leaned in and whispered to The Big One that we are almost done.  He will be home soon.  I just repeated that and petted her.
I looked up, and everyone else was in tears.  Her best friend, who's father just came home a few weeks ago, was sitting in her own mother's lap, crying.  Her mom just happened to be the parent there tonight to stay as the second adult.  The mom had tears in her eyes.  I look beside me, and the other two military girls are also about to cry.  The Big One couldn't calm down.
So, I just stopped the meeting.  We were going to try the new flavor of cookie, and a few others just for a refresher, anyway, and that was that. I made them wash hands, line up, and move rooms.
Change the scene and the focus immediately.
Having a troop of little girls who's fathers may leave at any time isn't easy.  They all share the pain.  Being a military child in general is such a hard life.  They didn't choose this life.  We, as parents, chose it for them.  So, we have to be there, and try our best, to comfort them, and help them through the path we chose for them.  I will always do my best to comfort my own, and any of them who are heart broken, with cookies, or hugs, or what ever it takes.
We will hope for a better meeting next week. Hopefully, we can focus on our goals, or start working on our badge, but if we are in need, I know where I can get some more cookies.

I Know You Don't Care, But...

I know weight loss blogs are generally about as interesting as watching wall paper peal.  So, sometime ago when I wanted to blog about my weight loss journey, I created a separate blog all about it.  That, though, fell by the wayside.  I have a hard enough time blogging on this one, let alone one that was really just for me.
So, if you will, please, humor me for a moment while go off about my weight loss struggle.  it won't all be a food journal, I swear.
For those who don't know me personally, let me tell you that am obese.  In fact, I was morbidly obese.  I'm talking the biggest person on the Biggest Loser ranch big.  I started working on it, slowly, though.  Over the course of quite a while, I lost about 130 lbs.  Yes.  I'm serious.  I suppose I'm really putting myself out here now, but oh well.  I worked very hard to lose that weight.  I did it all with diet and exercise.  I even gave up coffee because I can only drink coffee by adding calories into it.  I exercised at least 6 times a week.  Started a couch to 5k program and was trying to learn to run.  On the days I didn't go try to run, I worked out at home with DVDs.  Anything I could do to add extra movement in, I did.  I even mowed yards voluntarily, just to exercise more.
Then, I got pregnant.  It was really not expected.  I was losing weight.  Getting my body to finally start to look like a normal person should.  We never got pregnant easily, either.  It took forever to conceive both of the other two.  So, when, after my husband come home off a boat, I suddenly found my self pregnant, I was shocked.  I was also scared because of all my body had been though.  while I survived the pregnancy, I also gained weight.  I gained 40 pounds back.  It really hurt to see that coming back on.  A lot.  I worked so hard to lose it all.
Anyway, now, I'm trying to lose it back again.  I want to start moving back down the scale to not only get back to where i was, but to continue on that journey and do even better.
The problem is I'm stuck.  I can't.  It took all the motivation I had last time to really get rolling an d serious, something I'm not sure I can duplicate.  I got about 10 pounds in, and pretty much quit on myself.  Again.  I will tell you, though, I know what the problem is.  Depression.  I'm eating my feelings away.  Life is so freaking emotionally difficult right now, nearing the end of a long deployment after him being in and out for the last year, dealing with being a physically single mother of three with no help, trying to plan our life after he retires very soon, all that is just too much.  I can't help it.  I don't have the will power to not eat Oreos.  Heck, I'm pretty lucky I haven't gained even more while he was gone.  It is also a million times harder to exercise right now.  Having an infant who isn't on a set schedule, and is super clingy, makes it really hard.  If I could get The Big Little One to agree to be in a double stroller, I could at least walk, but that isn't going to happen.  She refuses.  In all honestly, she is nearly five, and hasn't been in one since she was about three.  So, I can't blame her.  All that together means that there is practically no way to get in a good workout.  Not working out, and not eating right don't make for good weight loss.
I've got to turn this around.  I have got to get over myself, an everything going on, and focus on what I can control.  It's hard, though.  I suppose if it were easy I would have been thin years ago, and there would be be no weight loss industry.  Maybe I should stop feeling so bad that its hard, since the hard way means thousands of jobs.  I'm totally trying to find a bright side, here.
The reality of this all is I know what to do.  I've done it before.
I need to get off my butt, literally, and start moving.
I need to stop stress eating, and start finding a way to channel that into working out.
I can do this again.
I will do this again.
I will rebuild my self...better than before.

One Of THOSE Nights

Tonight sucks.  Totally sucks.  It really sucks to have my husband gone right now.  This time, it isn't because my children were off the wall today.  Actually, considering everything we had to do they were pretty good.  It isn't because, yet again, he missed a really special moment.
This time, its because sometimes day to day life is hard, and you need a partner to be there for you.  When you are married or in a committed relationship, you expect to have that, and when you don't it hurts sometimes.

I know that being a military spouse, we usually don't say a lot.  We just suffer in silence, or relate our sadness to those who are in the same situation.  We don't complain  about how absolutely horrible it can be at times, and it is.  At least, I can tell you that I usually don't say much.  I tell people "Its fine", "We will make it", or some other very white washed expression of how I feel.  I know that I will make it.  I don't have a choice.  I have to continue on, but sometimes, like tonight, I just want to cry myself to sleep.  Unfortunately, I can't because I have too much to do to even sleep.

Girl Scout Cookie sales start at the end of this month.  Thanks to military downsizing, I lost our troop leader very suddenly over the Christmas break.  My world was instantly screwed.  Her world much more so, I'm sure, but still.  She and I worked together on everything last year.  We make a great team.  Our husbands are fantastic Girl Scout dads, and they pitch in every where they can.  So, I went from a team of four to get cookies done, to me.  Just me.  Saying that I feel overwhelmed doesn't even begin to cover it.
I have had to beg and plead to get my training.  Though I managed cookies last year, I was still required to go though the multiple hour cookie training again this year.  Problem is, this year, I have an infant.  Cookies are in general a no children allowed process.  No children at training.  No children at the Booth Sale Lottery.  No children at cookie pickup.  You get the idea.  The only times we can have any children with us are when we are selling the cookies, and it is supposed to be just the Girl Scout selling, no siblings, or tag-a-longs as they call them, at all.  This includes infants strapped to your chest in carriers.
I managed to beg a parent into going to the training for us, just so that we could sell.  Now, I have to get the rest done.
My husband is gone.  My co leader is gone.  I have no family here.  I can't leave my breast fed, straight up clingy 8 month old with a sitter.  I'm screwed.
No one gets that, either.

You would think that most people in charge who work with the scouts have children themselves, and would be more understanding.  Not so.
Tomorrow morning is the big Booth Sale Lottery.  This is a huge deal in the cookie world.  This is when we get to select our locations for selling cookies.  If you don't go, you don't get booths.  If you do, you get the crap left over at the places that don't sell that no one wants.  Some of them even come with notes about which way to face to avoid the loads of indigent people that will be around.  Really, I don't want girls there.  So, going to this lottery is vital to each troop.
However, again, I can't take the baby.  I can't leave her with any one.  So, I can't go.The parent that helped me before has no child care for tomorrow.  He can't go.  I have a small troop.  Most of my parents are in the same situation I am, mostly military families with no one here to help out.
So, were all screwed.
What really upsets me is that this year, my parents are willing to put in the work because they all want their children to earn camp, but we are all hurt by a system that isn't understanding of our situations.  If we don't get these booths tomorrow, no one will earn camp.  We won't be able to sell enough cookies to do it.  There is no way.  None of us have childcare.  None of us can go.
I need my husband.  Not just tomorrow, but for this whole process.   I need someone here tonight to tell me just to breath, and that we will figure it out.  I need someone to have my back.
I don't though. Not right now. Not for a little while longer.
This is a hard life.  Nights like tonight, when you just need a hug, are the hardest.

So, its back to stressing out about what to do, and trying to find someone, anyone, to help out.

Yes, I look forward to his retirement.  I look forward to having him home, and being able to get that hug anytime I need it.  No matter what, though, for the rest of my life, I will always be understanding of those who are in the same situation I am in right now.  I will always extend my hand, or do anything I can, to help those who don't have the support they want and need because they are military families.
Tonight, I'm sending out lots of love and virtual hugs to all the military spouses sitting a home while their spouses are gone.  Much love to you all, and speedy return so that you too can get a hug, and maybe even a kiss.

The Tree Debate

While I love to put our Christmas tree up every year, I have to admit that I think I love taking it down more. There is something about cleaning up your house from all the Christmas clutter that makes me feel happy.  Don't get me wrong, I love having it up, too, but cleaning up post Christmas is a great ritual.  There is just something about starting the new year with a totally clean house that feels very appropriate.  in fact, I even plan on cleaning the carpets once it goes down.

This year, though, along with everything else, having my husband deployed has changed that ritual for us.  This year, The Girls want to leave the tree up until he comes back, which will still be a few months.
I don't know if I can handle it for that long.
Christmas trees are beautiful, with all the twinkling lights, shiny ornaments, and other things we lavish them with.  That all makes them one giant magnet for little people, too.  The Littlest One loves the tree.  She LOVES the tree.  She wants to touch it every moment of every day.  She wants to grab a branch and pull it down on herself.  Well, perhaps she doesn't want to pull it down on herself, but she certainly seem to be trying to do just that.
I can't handle it for months more.  Sometimes, it feels like I can't handle it for a moment more.  It is a constant "don't touch that" game that I think she is wining.  I don't like playing this game, at all.
So, we have to find a compromise.   We have to find a way to keep him in mind, and them happy with out putting their baby sister in jeopardy.
Right now, I am leaning toward changing out the tree.  I have a small, 3 or 4 foot, tree that My Husband and I used our very first Christmas together.  I think I can handle leaving that one out.  It won't be our big tree, but hopefully it will be just enough to make them happy, and not enough to hurt the baby if she does finally pull the tree over.  Now, I just have to convince the bigger two that it is the way to go.  These are touchy times, and this is definitely a touchy subject.  

Much Love To The Elves of The World

This is the second Christmas that we have ever spent with my husband deployed.  I suppose in 12 years, I should actually consider myself lucky this is only the second.
It is also fitting, I suppose.  He missed The Big One's first Christmas, and now he is missing The Littlest One's first Christmas.  He missed our first Christmas as a family, and now our last Christmas as a military family.
While that may in some morose way be poetic, it is absolutely in no way comforting, and doesn't assist me in making this a magical holiday.  Quite the opposite.
I am very grateful for my Mom, who came home with me for a week after Thanksgiving to help me get started.  With her, I managed to get the tree up, stocking hung, house partially decorated, and start some of my shopping.
Other than that, I have had to get this all together myself.  This is a lot of work.  It takes a ton of planning.  I have done a ton of shopping online.  Thank you, Amazon for giving Amazon Mom members free prime accounts for up to the first year.  It has been a life and wallet saver.  I am pretty sure I should bake something for all the delivery people who have come to my door over and over and over again this year.  If they weren't so busy, we should all be on a first name basis.  Actually, I'm quite sure they all know my name by heart, after seeing it on so many packages.
I have done a ton of shopping on the dl.  I managed to sneak stocking stuffers in under bags of plastic straws and boxes of baby wipes.  I have even whispered to people at registers, asking them to keep certain purchases on the dl as well, and having them quickly double wrap things with a serious poker face on.  To those people, I am thankful.

I have managed to get us to exactly where we normally are the day before Christmas, maybe even a little further ahead since i have been wrapping at night.  We are as ready for Christmas as we can be.  There are two gifts for both sets of parents, things I am making, that will go out a little late, but parents are usually pretty understanding people, and hopefully they will know we love them, and won't be too upset about the late arrival.  In the grand scheme of things, if those are our only casualties, I will be ecstatic.
Of course, there will be tears on Christmas day.  Lots of them.  Missing your spouse on Christmas is hard.  Missing your dad has got to be worse.  The Girls are generally pretty good about it, but we have had some hard moments.  The Big Little One cried at the dinner table the other night.   She was telling me all about what was going to happen on Christmas.  There was a huge lead up of activity, with a culmination of "And then Daddy will come home" after which I had to break her heart by telling her again that it won't happen.  We got through it, though.
So, I'm working on making this the best Christmas it can be.  No Dad.  No other family.  Just us.  I promise to make it the best it can be, no matter how much I have to wrap, how many cookies I have to bake, or how much sleep I lose to see that every single thing is as perfect as it can be.  They will love it, even if a part of their heart is sad.  We all will.  And next year, when we are all together again, we will be even more thankful for the fantastic holiday, and the times we get to spend together, because we will truly understand how special they are, and appreciate them more than many people ever could.
Merry Christmas to All, and may your holiday be as fantastic as possible for you and yours.

The End Of The World

So, I posted a while back about it being the end of the world, as I know it.
I know that seems like a dramatic statement to make, but the truth is that our world is about to change dramatically.

Next year, My Husband will be retiring from the military.  And our world will never be the same.
I'm sad for him in some ways.  I know he wanted to stay in.  I know there are still things he would like to do, and he loves his job.  You can't ask for more than that with any career.
However, as much as I am sad for him, in some ways, I am very, very happy.

The last eleven plus years of my life have revolved around his career.  Every decision made has been affected by what he does.  Even my wedding date was changed, and our honeymoon scrapped when a catastrophe struck, and his school schedule suddenly changed.  He left me 3 months pregnant with The Big One to deploy to the middle east in support of the operation in Iraq.  He came home just before she was born, but we didn't get to live together again because of schools and things until she was 15 months old.
We have moved more times than I have fingers to count on.
My body has been corrupted by the military medical system, and I will live with that for the rest of my life.
I could go on, but suffice to say, everything in our lives has been controlled in one way or another by his occupation.
No more.
There will be no more deployments after this one.  I thank God for that.  I don't know if I could do this again.
I'm not just glad to be done with all that for me.  I'm very thankful that my children will have their father back.  No words can express how happy I am about that.
They have missed him.   We have missed him.
I don't know what he will be doing yet, or where we will be going.
Our future, for the first time, is wide open.
He can choose a new career that he hopefully will love as well.
We can live anywhere we want.
Most importantly, we can be together.
I know the next year or so will be tumultuous.  I know it will be scary and exciting.  I know it will also go by  very fast, but I look forward to it, and all the changes it will bring for us.
Wish us luck in our new lives, trying to learn to be a civilian family like the rest of the world finally.

It's The End Of The World

I really do feel fine.  In fact, I'm rather looking forward to it.  Tell you why later.  ; )

A Double Marked Day

Today is a day that can be marked twice on the calendar for us.  First, The Littlest One is three weeks old today.  Not quite a month old, and still veyr tiny, we have made it past the initial checkups point where they make you go back to the Dr a lot, to be sure you aren't screwing up too badly, and are on our own until 2 months.  She is growing quickly, and pretty soon, she won't be tiny any more.

Today also marks the first time she has a ever had to lose her dad to a deployment.  It may be a small one right now, but it is still something.  He is gone.  She may be tiny, but how big does she need to be to realize that he isn't there anymore.  She doesn't sleep well, and spends half the night curled up with her dad.
I'm not sure how well this is going to go now, at all.
I have to tell you, days like this I really hate being a military family.  This is the kind of thing that pisses me off and makes me ready for retirement.  Three weeks old, I'm not even allowed to lift her yet, and my husband is gone.  Thanks, military powers that be, for taking him now.  I hate that he has to miss this.  I hate that he has to be gone now.  I wish that I could have made him stay, bit since my medical need for him here, what with not being allowed to lift her and all, wasn't good enough, my other option for shooting him in the foot wouldn't have turned out well for me, either.  So, he is gone.
We will get through this one, though, just like we do the others.  My prayer is that I don't have to write a similar post on her first birthday, about missing it as well.  Everyone hope with me, please.  I'd much rather write about how cute it was, and how wonderful it was to have her dad there, playing with her on that special day.

Hey Congress, You Get to Tell Her

Today, I am writing what will probably be my most hate filled, and immature letter ever to my elected Congressional representatives.  I'm taking a cue from all those angry people who called in to the call center I used to work at, the first year that Toys R Us did online shopping (yes, I was there, and no, please don't speculate on my true age because of it).  So many orders did not go through for Christmas, and we had to deal with the parents.  I will never forget the calls we took where the parents would demand that we tell their children Santa won't be coming.  We weren't even the ones who caused the problems, we were just the messengers, aka customer service.  Congress, and be sure that I mean the entire of those elected, not just a particular party or particular house, are actually the ones who have continuously failed to do their own job, and because of that, as of midnight tonight, our pay, the pay for those who fight and risk their lives to keep our nation free, is vanishing.

We had decided to wait until my husband would be home from yet another training mission that forced him to miss The Little One's birthday, one of the many his job and commitment have forced him to be away during, to have her a belated birthday party.  We realize now that he may not be here next year, and wanted to give him that small opportunity to actually be a participant in his own child's birthday festivities for once.  I'm pretty sure that he has missed more birthday's for his own family than he has been here for because of his job.  So this, for us, was a big deal.  It certainly was for him, and for our daughter.  Now, though, because of your inability to work together on BOTH sides, your overall objective to only allow your own extreme fiscal idealism, and refusal to compromise, we have no choice but to cancel that party.  You see, My Husband and I discussed it, and because of the fact that we don't know how long this pay freeze will go on, and when he will start getting regular paycheck again, we felt it fiscally irresponsible to have a party that we would certainly overspend on, with no money coming in, or at least not knowing when it would start coming back.  Yes, we understand that eventually we would get paid again, but we just don't know when, and have no intention of floating our entire lives on credit until then.  Perhaps you, those who write the budget, should take some pointers from us.

I wish we were still being paid, and getting paychecks while this freeze goes on.  After all, my husband and those who stand beside him and work with him, have fulfilled and continue to full fill their obligations to their job.  They are all still training, deploying, fighting, serving, or what have you, and haven't failed to perform their basic job functions as you have.  Yet, you will continue to get paychecks while we, who make a pittance of what you do, don't.  I hope you are proud of yourselves for showing the world how much better and more important you are than those who serve in uniform.  I hope you feel good about yourselves when you lay down at night, and think of those who will be frantic to pay their bills, or even feed their families, something no member of the military should ever need to worry about.  I can't even imagine the anguish of someone stationed overseas, in a war zone, worried sick about whether or not his family was able to buy groceries, and being unable to even check on them.  I know I certainly could not sleep with that on my conscience.  At least, for us, at this point, it only means canceling a birthday party, but one that will cause great heart ache, as there will be no more time to reschedule after this, than you can imagine.
So, in line with many angry parents before me, you tell her.  I've already broken my husband's heart in our discussion, and I don't have it in me to break the heart of a now four year old little girl as well. So, email me, and I'll give you our phone number.  You tell her that she can't have the party her daddy promised her before he left.  You tell her she won't get to have a birthday party with him again probably until he retires, and that because you just couldn't do your job well enough, her parents had to cancel it.  Tell her it was your fault.  I'll gladly take a picture of her face the moment you tell her, her eyes filling with tears, so that image, along with many others, can fill your mind when you lay down at night.
Unless, of course, you would like to collectively do the right thing, and defer your own pay checks to those that serve so that our lives can continue on as normal, as they should.  I'm pretty sure, though, that I won't be getting that email offer.
When you get my letter, I really hope an aid passes it on to you, and you actually get to read it with your own eyes.  You should.  More over, I hope you read lots and lots of angry letters from parents, military personal, and citizens who are fed up with the way Congress is operations, and just won't take it any more.
This rant is certainly not over.

Version 2.0 - Meaner than Ever Before

I'm not really sure what happened.  The Little One has always been a little feisty.  However, in the last few days, I swear she has been replaced by a new, much meaner version of herself.
Actually, I kind of know what happened.  Her dad left for a little deployment.  This one won't be big, but she doesn't quite get that at this point.  She is very much a daddy's girl.  In fact, we often just call her DG.  She loves him so much.  It's really cute and all, until he up an leaves and I'm left with the after math.  This kid is seriously a handful right now.  She is constantly picking on someone, be it me or her big sister.  I even ask her if she was taking up the meanness slack since her father was gone, and she said yes.  Straight up.  She know she is being mean.  I'm also not sure who is more frustrated right now; Ava because her dad is gone, or Lilly or me for dealing with her.

It isn't just mean, either.  She is being completely disobedient and defiant, in almost every way she can.  When she woke up this morning, in my bed because she wouldn't sleep in hers, I snuggled her, and kind of jokingly ask her if she was going to listen better today.  Anytime I ask her things like that, she usually sucks up, gets snugly back, and says she will do better.  Not right now, though.  She refused to look at me or answer me. She turned her head, got a mad look, and ignored me. She has a will of iron, too.  I could not get her to talk to me, no matter how much I tried.  It took me five minutes to get her to acknowledge me, and say she would be better.  By that time, it had gone beyond playing to something kind of serious.

This child is wearing me out.  We go to pick The Big One up from school, and if I could pick her up right now, I would be hip carrying her everywhere and not to snuggle and be sweet, either.  She won't stay with me when we walk and runs across drive ways where parents in a rush turn in without looking.  She runs all over the school, which isn't cool.  She nearly knocks over adults and other kids.  When we are standing at the gate waiting to be let in, she runs toward the street and stops just at the edge of the side walk.  I swear she is trying to give me a coronary.

Her poor Big Sister is taking a beating, too.  The Little One in constantly picking on her.  In fact, I have even said several times "Quit picking on your Big Sister" which just sounds wrong.

I do understand the "Acting out" if you will, but that doesn't mean I like it.  I don't.  No one would.  I also know that she is young, and having a hard time figuring it out, and how to deal with all the emotion build up she has inside.  We just need to get through it all so that she can go back to her normal, much nicer but still full of it self.  Right now, I won't let her get away with everything, but I will try to be understanding with her.  I will snuggle her at night, and let her sleep with me for the moment.  I'll be sure to read to her lots, and try to get her out of the house to play more and do fun things.  I will also be hiring a babysitter as much as I can to save my own sanity as we go through this.
It will get better.  She will adjust.  Everything is just a phase and all that.  Regardless, if you notice a run on dark chocolate the next time you go to the commissary, believe it was me who took it all, just to be prepared for now.

One Hurdle Down, One To Go

So far, we have had tow major hurdles with Naval Hospital Balboa, and getting everything we need for this pregnancy done.  One is to get my medical records, and the other is get them to drop me so that I can see a surgeon elsewhere.

Today, I got over one of the hurdles.  The whole family and I went to Balboa to get my records.  I brought my husband because I felt like I needed someone to be able to pull me from a fight pretty quickly, or at least be ready to bail me out.  The kids just got to come along for the show.

Once we got there, and found a place to park in that ridiculously over crowded area, we headed in towards where i thought records would be.  My Husband wanted to stop in the OB/GYM building and ask for it.  I told him that my records wouldn't be there any more, but he wanted to ask.  I waited outside.  I didn't even want to go in for multiple reasons.  The first reason is that I hate that place, and just being on the campus brings back horrible memories.  I started reliving a lot of the trauma I experience just being there, walking the grounds.  Another reason is that should I ever, and I mean ever, run into that OB who butchered me again, I don't know that I could maintain myself.  I expect that I would lose complete control.  I'm sure I would unleash a verbal assault on him the likes of which he had never seen before.  I just don't see that being a good situation.  Though, if I were given that opportunity, I think I would feel better in the long run.  It would be a little like confronting a person who attacked you.  After a couple of minutes, My Husband came to the sliding doors and motioned me in.  I had to go in and give them my ID.  I ask him if he had told the guy how long ago  I had been there, and he indicated that he did.  The uniformed man at he desk ask me to sit while he looked for my records.  I sat, waited, and just hoped it would all end quickly.  I think sitting in that OB/GYN waiting room was far more uncomfortable that any pap smear or other OB/GYN visit I have ever had.  Finally the guy came back to the window, and ask me how long ago it had been since I had been seen there.  When I said 3 years plus, he said he misunderstood, and I had to go to medical records.  Thanks for the unnecessary pain, yet again, people.
     We walked over to the medical records department, and the older lady behind the desk ask if she could help us.  I told her I needed a copy of my records.  She immediately said to fill out a form and it would be 10 weeks.  I immediately told her I had sent in the request twice, and I didn't have 10  more weeks to wait.  She backed off and said that I would have to speak to the young woman beside her.  I needed to sign in and sit down.  The young woman looked at me, and ask for my ID, no sign in necessary.  She wrote down my info, told me to sit, and went back to helping the older gentleman she was with.
     After a few minutes, she was done helping that man, and called me up.  She ask me again if we had sent in the request, and I told her my OB's office had done it twice, more than 12 weeks ago actually, and that I needed my record.  Another young woman came up, told me the requests were not in the system, and they would have to pull everything again.  I can't help the fact that the requests weren't where they were supposed to be.  More than likely, my complicated last name situation with both my maiden and married meant that they couldn't locate me in the system and they didn't bother on following it up.  That always happens there because my last name is technically different than my husbands, and all of my info is based on him.  Anyway, they gave me a little grief about how much of my record that I needed, and then started to work, not telling me that I could sit and wait, or how long it would take.  They ask for my ID again, realized that they had the info, then just ignored me.  After about 10 minutes, the second girl came back in, and the first one finished printing.  They had my entire record ready to go in about 15 minutes.  Amazing considering that they always tell you it takes 10-12 weeks to get anything.
Regardless less as to how ridiculous it was that I had to physically go down there, I have my record.  It hopefully has everything my OB team needs so that they can begin to make some plans.

There was some good news with all of this.  I tried to get through just enough of the record immediately to see where the incision was on my uterus.  If I understood it all correctly, with a little help from google, the cut was made in the better position so that The Littlest One can stay in longer.  We were worried they may have to take her really early.  Now, with some good luck and preparation, she should be able to stay in a bit longer and be ready to come out before they take her.  We will take all the good news we can get.

No. No. I won't be making that appointment.

As I posted before, my OB wants me to see a surgeon.  The surgeon that has handled my hernia stuff before doesn't have privileges at the women's hospital I will be delivering at.  So, she won't be able to do it.  The OB put in a referral for a general surgeon, and I'll give you one guess who called today.

Don't need it?

Yup.  Naval Hospital Balboa.

They have the first right of refusal on everything.  So, anytime a referral goes through the system, someone there decides if they will take the case or not.  At least, that is what I was told.  Apparently, they want me now.
If you cause it, you can't fix it.  That is my rule.

Instead of having a total conniption fit, though, I just told them that this would be a problem since we needed to have the surgeon in room at my delivery, and I wouldn't be delivering there.
They guy took notes and will call me back.

This better be the end of it, because you can believe that no Dr there will ever be touching me again.  Ever.
I've been violated enough by one Dr there.  I mean, just the though of going back there to get my records makes me feel awful.  Its like visiting the scene of the crime and the fact that they turned the delivery of my child into something that feels like a crime really pisses me off.  I mean pisses me off. What should have been one of the most beautiful, memorable experiences of my life, was taken from me.  There certainly was a crime.  I was robbed of the joy and love that should fill my memories of that day.  While having my child here is wonderful, the day she was born, and the aftermath, will never be what they should have been in my memories.  I live the with physical pain of what they did every day of my life, and I will for the rest of my life.

So, the idea that they would even think that I would ever come back there is beyond laughable to at least ludicrous.

No.  I won't be making that appointment.  Ever.

I don't want to go all Mamma Bear here. I'm going to stay positive, and not make rash plans.  Just know that I will mean it when I say I won't be there.  From the bottom of my heart, one of the organs that didn't get screwed up by them, I mean it.

Moving Sound Good In Theory

Currently, we live in military housing.  It wasn't my first choice, and still isn't sometimes.  Military housing can be a little crazy.  You have all kinds of people, of very mixed ages, living smushed right on top of each other, and I really mean smushed.  The community I currently live in is very new.  About 7 years ago, they tore down the 700 homes that were here, and started building.  In fact, when we moved here 6 years ago, they were under construction and hadn't even started about half of the community. The thing is, they built back almost a thousand homes in the place of those 700.  So, were really talking tiny, but tall, town homes.  I live in a three story home just to fit the three bedrooms we now have in.  So, when you can practically answer your neighbor's phone for them, there can be difficulties.  Not always, but it happens, especially when you have the neighbors we had who partied until 2 am right below my bedroom window every night.

Occasionally, there are also benefits.  You need benefits. One of the nice things about living in military housing is that if your family grows, you have the option of getting a larger house sometimes.  We are exercising that option.  I am not keen on the idea of a three story with a new born, the girls sharing a room, and being on the third floor by themselves.  We could do it, but I don't really want to.  Instead, we went into the housing office, and because we are willing to move around the holidays, they were actually able to offer us a 4 bedroom house on the spot.  That is very rare around here.  I spent a day going back and forth between housing, trying to find a better house than the one they first offered us, as it was on the only really bad street we have in this community, and backed up to a dump.  I lucked out.  A house diagonal to ours, on our street about 30 pace away, was also available.  We took it as fast as they would give it to us.

This also means we have to move as fast as possible.  Around the holidays.  The idea of being in a home that is better laid out for us is fantastic.  I just wish there was a a way to have it instantly happen.  I would use one of my three Genie wishes for this if I could.  A blink or nose wiggle and have it done would be awesome.  I'd give my eye teeth for an "Easy button" about now, too.

Instead, I'm waiting right now for a pre-move out inspection, which will tell me what all I need to fix before we move.  Since we are also moving within housing, they is the one where they really approve our move.  They pretty much want to get in and make sure we haven't trashed the place before they let us move to another place.  That makes sense.  The down side is that I am not able to do much, and I stress incredibly about how much I need to do.  Remember, I am emotionally unhinged.

Then come more packing, cleaning the new house, bumming anyone we can get to help us move, cleaning the old house, and then settling in at the new place and unpacking.  All with my physical limitations, and two monkeys as The Big One is out of school for a month.

I suppose this is just another thing we will get through.  In a few weeks, we will be all moved into our new place, settling down and getting ready for The Littlest One.  It will be nice when it is all over and I go from 4 bathrooms to clean to three.   I'm sure I really will be glad in the end, but until then, everyone hold on, and get ready for the moving storm coming.

One Decade Down

Today is my 10th wedding anniversary.

It is a pretty big deal. I have spent about a third of my life with the same person, sharing everything. We have had hard time and easy times, good times and bad times. We are here, though, through it all, together, to mark the big 10 year anniversary.

This also makes a different sort of anniversary for me. Today marks ten years that I have served my country in my own way, as a military spouse. This is just as big of a deal as hitting the decade of marriage. Ten years ago, when I said "I do", I also said "I will". I said that I will be there, when he is gone. I will take care of our home, and everything in it, when he suddenly leaves. I will go through our pregnancy alone, him leaving after we found out, and if I had to, I would even deliver alone, though thankfully we avoided that one. I will be a single parent when I have to, and learn to deal with that, even if I don't like it. I will try to comfort my children and make them feel ok, even though I know how much it hurts to be left behind when they leave. I will take care of the home front, because that is my job. I will be here, sending you positive vibes every day of my life, willing you to come home to use, safely. I will stand behind you, love, and support you, even when I don't like what comes my way, where it takes us, and what you have to do for your career, because I am a military wife.

That "I will" stands just as firm today as it did 10 years ago. Still today, and everyday, I, and every military spouse and family, give above and beyond the call of duty to do their part. We know, this is who we are, and what we do. We serve in our own way, each and every day.

I am proud today. I am happy to have survived the last decade together, and look forward to the next, no matter what it brings.

Telling my Friends

So, I told a couple of my good friends here that I am moving. This is the beginning of what I know if going to be one of the hardest years of my life. I am not looking forward to all the stress and time away from my husband. Ahhh...whats a military wife to do?