Friday, July 30, 2010

A Short Story

The day My Lovesband asked me to be his Girlfriend (back in 2002), we were under some pine trees, sheltered from the rain. We were hanging out with a friend who knew he was going to ask me, and was just waiting around for it to happen. He looked over at us and asked "what are you staring at?". It just so happened that we were both staring at the bubbles in a stream of water (formed by water dropping from the tree).
From the beginning, he has always understood me.
That's us at Prom 2007.

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Thursday, July 29, 2010

Let The Profanity Happen.

You want to know what I am tired of? Well, since you're still reading- Motivational/self-help bullshit. Why? Because I think it's a cover-up. Average -over it- people are off living their lives. Granted, I believe that Love is the answer to everything. I don't go spouting my bullshit out like a night after whiskey and White Castle (don't fucking ask..). I like PEOPLE. Yeah, I DO care about what you are passionate about, but not THAT much. I want to hear how passionate you are about savingmoney/God/diet/exersize/hockey/military for about 15min. Unless it's a common interest, I start thinking about other things- The last time my dogs shit/the last time I shit/The next time I'm getting laid/When the last time YOU got laid was. Like I said, I care, but only so much. How much to you want to hear about my oral fixation?? Unless you're trying to get some, it'll probably make this dinner party pre-tty awkward.

Those people just end up being fake. Remember in HS when people talked about who was fake? Want to know why you never hear that term? Because it's you. We grew up, and got manners, so now we just say it behind your back.
As an adult, there are really only a few functions you get invited to, and I loathe ALL of them: 1) Mary-kay/Avon- Fuck this. Unless I get a heap of free shit, I don't want to slather makeup on my face. If anyone with a Vagina needs to have their hand held during makeup protocol, they are either 9 or just shouldn't try. That's how you end up on peopleofwalmart(dot)com. 2) Raging Beer-Pong Party- For my age group, acceptable. For parents (including my age group), NOT. Grow the hell up. If I have to tell you that life isn't about being faced all the time, the words fall on deaf ears. Yeah, drinking is fine, and faced every so often is also okay... but every weekend?? deep rooted issues= Get some zoloft. 3) This SOUNDS like it's going to be fun, but really it's a cover-up for some lame ass thing we're doing- Explains itself. "We're going to just hang out, chit-chat, snack. Ohmp, and then we're going to *BAM insert a fervent description of something you REALLY don't want to do AT ALL* it's going to be a lot of fun." Fuck you! You're a fucking liar! Whatever happened to just wasting time with people?? Everything has to have a fucking purpose! Why do we always have to be 'learning something new'? You know those terms. It's not like getting to know a friend, or conversational happening onto information of general interest. It's a "DIDYOUKNOW?" cram-fest of whatever. Fuck You. At least the other shit parties are straight forward.

My Perfect Party: BBQ. Chillin'. Wii/dominoes/pictionary/game. Pie. bonfire/end. Nobody getting "NO YOU'RE A SCREEN DOOR!" hammered. No mandatory anything. No forms to fill out. Just come over, hang out. You can crash here, no problem. But you start yaking in my commode, and I probably won't invite you over again. idc if you smoke, but do it outside. Leave your Pot at home.

Fuck, I'm tired. BTW 'in the air' or whatever with Muy Guapo G.Clooney= crap movie.

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If you don't know about my MIL, she cannot be summed up into simple terms. She's a crazy bitch. Oh, maybe she can be.
Currently, we are not on speaking terms. I have been waiting years for that. She FINALLY pissed of my Lovesband enough to his breaking point. If you don't know my Lovesband, he tolerates A LOT, he could even be called a push-over at times. It also goes to show how low this woman will sink; "We've all seen enough pictures of Annabelle, and your wife need to grow up and learn how to be a mother".
Since the deployment, they have tried to worm their way back in, sans apology. Which is not gonna fly. They have been sending Lovesband Motomail, and 'care' packages. The first one was full of cigarettes. My Husband is a non-smoker. He tried to give them away, nobody wanted them. Yes, NO marine wanted them. They must have been shit.
So after that useless Box-O-Shit, she sends him another. What could be worse than shitty cigarettes? TOILET PAPER! Lovesbands words: "She must think I'm in Vietnam...".
Honestly, we just try to ignore them, and sometimes that works. Other times they claim that they are "worried". Whatever that means, I just know it doesn't really mean "worried". But then they threaten to come around. So, when Lovesband is back stateside, we'll ignore them until we actually have to tell them to 'fuck-off'.
If they ever came to NC, we would end up having to pay for them to get home, for them to eat while they were here, for their 4 kids to eat here, on the way home, and probably be talked into groceries after they got home. Oh, yes. I DO know this from experience- Our Wedding. But that Disaster is another post ENTIRELY. Long story short, We paid for them to drive a diesel truck from Michigan to Oklahoma.
As far as they are concerned, everybody owes them something. They make sure of it. I know they spent money on the care packages, which means the kids probably didn't eat that week. Just like when they sent me flowers for my birthday. Sure, it SOUNDS sweet, but 'Thank You' isn't enough, you then OWE them because they chose not to feed the family so you could have this kind gesture.. this kind booby-trapped gesture. Then, when they need money for bills, you OWE them. Which is fine, except they live off the government due to laziness. They spend their money on trivial things, and blow it in a day.
Anyway, that's the short version of it I'm sure there will be more later.

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Wednesday, July 28, 2010

If you're a parent, I bet you can guess how many times I've watched Elmo's World today. In fact, I am sure you can infer that I will be watching Elmo's World ALL FRIGGIN DAY! You can also assume that I will have Various songs stuck in my head ALL DAY, and it's going to be AWESOME when I annoy the life out of myself by absentmindedly singing them "we love to sing, sing in the shower"...
All the books and mags. tell you 'get your child to sleep at the first signs of being sleepy'. Yeeaaaah, that'll work- NOT! Belle's first sign of sleepy is 2 hours before she actually goes to 'sleep'. So then I wind up frustrated wasting my energy trying to impose 'naptime' on a child who I have found (be repeated time wasting failure) isn't quite ready. The NEW plan is to wait until she's REALLY fussy, and spend 10min getting her to bed. I'd LOVE to hang out with my Sugar-Belle in bed for 2 hours, but I HAVE THINGS TO DO! I have 19days to pack and move. I have two dogs of my own (and two more that I deal with daily), and family members who want to see us (her) before we go.
So now that it's naptime, and I have nearly nothing done, I'm going to attempt to partake in the napping. And I'm sure the dogs will begin barking at everything (nothing). Then I'll at least have dinner figured out.

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Tuesday, July 27, 2010

My Price For Freedom 1

I've had a pretty rough month. And I am glad to have overcome it. Sometimes things do not turn out the way you expect them to, but you really must remember; the cake may have landed frosting-side-down, but it will taste the same. Yeah, what I really mean is: just because a situation didn't turn out the way you planned, doesn't mean you can't salvage, and possibly flourish from it. All things are lessons.
I am very excited to be going home is about 20days. I don't EXACTLY know what 'home' looks like, but I DO know that, once I put all of our belongings in it, and once he is there to share it with me, it is going to be as 'home' as it gets. Without him by my side, every place feels strange. I feel strange. I feel that I haven't 'adapted' to being a 'single mom' (which is how us Military spouses end up during deployment). I have survived, and continue to, but it's a catastropic avalanche- constantly. I think a single Mom may have it easier in some ways (I could be way off base). I am constantly waiting for him, a man who WANTS to be home, who WANTS to change diapers, who is willing and excited to be an equal (if not more) parent. I don't know if not expecting anyone to come and help makes thriving on your own easier, knowing that there isn't a defined end to being a single parent.
This is my first deployment. I don't think I have met ANY spouse who likes deployment. Sure, it has its perks, but if you love your marine/soldier/airman/guardsmen ect. to stand by him through these times, then you also love them so deeply that you hate to watch them go *cue 'leaving on a jetplane'*. Deployment is torment.
On a political note, I am VERY thankful for those who sport flags, and yellow ribbons, and who pray for my Lovesband, and other service members and their families. I am glad that there are civilians out there who understand the cost that families like ours pay (and the life cost others pay). It helps. At least as far as I am concerned. No, you don't know what it is like, but you know that. You tell me you 'can't imagine what that must be like', and I am glad you don't ever have to. If the people who decided to go to war, were the people who actually had to go, or the families who had to watch them go; we would be more frugal.
Honestly, my almost 10 month-old daughter has no idea who her Daddy is. He left when she was 5months and 10days. She will be about 1year when he gets home. At this point, he will have been gone longer than she has been alive. This is the case for MANY families.
This is the price of freedom; Her terrified face, when all he wants to do is hug his little girl (who is his whole world).
I wish I could give him a welcome home with a baby who reaches up and squeals 'da-da!', but I can't.
That's okay. She is young, and he's an amazing father. Soon, she'll be his leg-leech, and not mine.
Military families adapt and overcome, we have to.
To those who understand, and those who know they don't- Thank You!
(by the way, That is my 'this deployment is exhausting' face)

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Sunday, July 25, 2010

Everything you need, is inside of me.

I believe that collective consciousness is more important than any God. Or maybe it is God. I believe that Love transcends everything, and if we live off of that, everything will be okay.

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Friday, July 23, 2010

I Don't Have Any Friends.

I am not looking forward to spending this weekend alone. I plan to go spend time with my sister-in-law and her family, but mostly I feel out of place and awkward there. Primarily because I feel such a need for interaction with another 'adult' that I just spew all over. I'm having one of those days where I wish I had someone to watch a movie, and eat popcorn with. Yeah 'You should be here (north carolina)' may be a true statement, but the fact is; today I am here. Not North Carolina. I need a friend, and I don't have any.

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Thursday, July 22, 2010

A Very Short Post.

Rain reminds me that, eventhough it might be a terrifying storm, and utter destruction; rain cleans, and brings new life.
I feel selfish. I feel this way for a lot of reasons. I feel as though I should be content just hanging with Belle. I feel as though her joy should be my joy. I feel like that should be enough. I feel like I should be stronger than this. I feel like I should understand myself better. I feel like I should be able to control my emotions better.

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Wednesday, July 21, 2010

That's A Stupid Question.

Look, I made my blog pretty for you!
I did it today, because My Mom plans to take the laptop away for the weekend. It's HER laptop, and I can do all of the important stuff from my phone. Plus, I really need to get a macbook anyway. I'm mostly waiting until Husband gets home, though I have already gotten the 'go-ahead' on getting one. But that would mostly liquidate the savings account ^_^. I'm horrible and have spent most all of the deployment money, just like I said I wouldn't.
Today I got ALL of the housing information faxed to where it needed to be. yay. I think I told you that already. Did I also tell you that the estimated move date is September 1st? Well, it is. Then I get to go home to good 'ole Cherry Point! I like having a place of my own. I like knowing that nobody is going to bitch at me. I'm an adult. I guess.
It's funny how it all happened. Maybe it was the way I was raised. Suddenly, I looked around, and I needed a bank account. Because I had a job, and I needed to hide money from myself. I find that, most places are helpful. They WANT your business. I know enough to know when I need help though. I'm a female. When it comes to a car or fridge, all I think is "Ooooh, pretty!". Washer and dryer, on the other hand "How long does it take? How quiet is it, what are the settings? How much water does it use? Front or top loader? Can I fit my comforter in here?"
This shows you how tired I am. I am writing about laundry. Of course, it highlights the fact that, whether I like it or not, I am in the full blown throes of adulthood. What a bummer.

I guess I don't do everything like an adult. Maybe it's just me fighting it tooth and nail. SEE! Only adults use old-people terms like that! (Erin is going to kill me if she ever makes it on here, I think I have heard her say that). If I were any kind of adult, I would be sleeping, knowing that my child will be up in 6 hours or less. I LOVE SLEEP!

Tomorrow, I will NOT shower (unless Jill calls, or someone else in MI-which isn't going to happen) I will NOT get 'dressed'. I'll probably make some Iced Tea (yeah, sweetened! Diabetic Coma here-I-Come!) Watch movies with Belle, and wish Death on the Dags. Oh, and laugh about Suzanne shaving her brows off. Good thing she doesn't read this either. I might brush my teeth. I'll probably remember what I planned to blog about today. I forgot due to tiredness. I keep having to backspace all over this poor thing, and it looks like dirt anyway.

I Stalk. Bad. And maybe I'll take all my belongings, and just wait there.

Before I go 2

I am also going to be glad to be from some issues that happen to be homebased here in Michigan. I am also very lucky to be leaving before it gets cold here. I miss sweet North Carolina! I miss the palm trees, the rain, the ocean, Erin, Zanne, Dr. Rule (our pediatrician), I even miss the screaming sound of harriers over-head.
Most of all, I miss my Marine. The day he left, he went to the store, and brought me home a dozen roses. Sometimes it seems like so long ago, othertimes it seems like yesterday. I know we'll have a new place, and though we have the same stuff, it will be in different rooms, facing. a different way. Even though I hated Nugent Cove, our first set-up will always hold a place in my heart. Years from now, my memory of it will fade, and it will be harder to remember. But it was the first place we brought our baby girl. Her first nursery. To an extent, it is the same adventure, and then again, it is a very new one.

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Before I go.

I get to go be on the phone with housing, and fax over all my paperwork. For many reasons, I am less than excited. Some I can discuss, and some I cannot. I'll try to focus on the good parts, the parts I am excited for. Personally, ending up in Nugent Cove is not the best case scenario, but I will if it is what gets me home. The move itself is what I look forward to the least, along with the storage unit *insert horror music*. Once I am home, my very best friend will be leaving forever to Arkansas. Hm, I thought I was supposed to focus on positive?? I'll be glad to have my space back. I'll be glad to be living by my own house rules again. I'll be glad to ba back in a Queen sized bed. more later- infant calls.

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Tuesday, July 20, 2010

I'm probably going to die. maybe.

So, I've been having a lot of bruising lately. I've decidedly attributed it to being battered by an infant on a daily basis, but the back of my mind worries. They are sometimes pretty ugly bruises, even for being from the pointy little elbow of a baby. In the caverns of my mind I think 'dear God, I have lyphoma or leukemia' and 'what if I'm dying!?'. Until today, I had pretty much let the idea slide (penguin-like ) out of my mind.
I had decided, not to long ago, that eating hurts. I am lactose intolerant, but avoiding dairy products didn't seem to help. And 'activia' wasn't coming through on any promises. I thought 'maybe it's the extreme stress I am under??'. Then I heard about the symptoms that bitch from the view had when she was on survivor. Oh-em-G. Celiac disease! Also known as Gluten intolerance! And if you don't know anything about it, the cure is a gluten-free diet. Well, that's not killing anybody. WRONG! It can make you seriously at risk for lymphoma. Now, I am sure that I am dying. Actually, it does explain my lack of metabolism, serious weight loss, anemia, and potentially my lactose intolerance. Best case scenario- I have stress that is causing serious tummy aches. Worst case- I'M F*UCKING DYING! I'll keep you posted.

Monday, July 19, 2010

Livingroom surgery

Today started out with lots of WIN. I actually consumed 2 meals, showered, bathed the child, did my hair and makeup, and Baby had 2 naps. It was going very well. We were preparing to meet my mommy at the Salvation Army in White Lake. As I was changing Belle's diaper, I noticed a cut on her leg had become lightly puffy. So I got peroxide and a bandaid. I gave it a good rub down, put the bandaid on, and put pants on her to help ensure that she would keep the bandaid on. She has had puffy cuts before. You can sweep and mop all the floors, but with 4 dogs; you can only get so colean. And crawling babies will sustain minor-moderate injury from time to time. That being said, we went off to Salvation Army (a place where I usually let Belle crawl with serious supervision, I am a good Mom. Haters can suck-it). Once finished, we come home and go about dinnerish/getting ready for bed. So, the pants are removed, along with the bandaid. Wow. The little-red-cut is now a puffy pussy line. (I blame it all on not being able to find and use A&D ointment). So, my mom and I decide that we have to 'surgery'.
I won't go into details, but the cut was seriously cleaned, and cleaned. And Belle screamed. It was awful. If it is not better by tomorrow, to the urgent care we go. After it's slathered in AD ointment, and a bandaid is firmly in place, it is time for bed. Belle sits up on the bed, looks down at the closed bottle of vitamin water, up at me, and "bob-bob" she laments. "I know. I know." I reply. Who know what it means, I can only assume "that shit hurt, do it again, and I'm pooping on your favorite pants".

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Today I did yardwork and felt like a champion. Idk, pulling weeds isn't some incredible feat. But I didn't mind doing it. Hard work doesn't bother me. I am not a lazy trashbag! Maybe.. ALSO, I am fully vindicated on the dog situation.. though they have been let out OFTEN, they are exploding out of their backhole areas like WWII. So, it's not cuz I ain't lettin em out... they have just freeking lost their minds. Daisy ate $2.50 worth of peaches...bitch.
I love my Droid. I listened to moosik while weeding. And of course, my mind wandered all over. Actually, only one place. Also, I considered it 'me' time. I mailed my secrets out today. And my mail in rebate for this hyped up block. I thought about telling them, writing them out, making it all known. But why? Why end up onn the corner of 'fucked' and 'friendless' for no reason? I thought about one day owning a home of my own. I thought about Jill, and how I hope she owns one, too some day. I thought about my weaknesses. I thought about conflicting feelings. Maybe the time to vent frustrations out on weeds, and a couple flowers :^/ (in my defense, they were ugly and harbored an orgy of earwigs) maybe just that made me feel a little better. Get the thoughts and feeling in piles, look at them, acknowledge they exist. I am tired, hungry, I need chapstick. Will I ever make a full complete blog? When there is someone to read it, maybe I'll feel obligated. Until then-

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