On The Losing Side

I have moved

2009-03-07T07:34:00.003-06:00

I have moved my blog to:

www.household6.wordpress.com

Woe Is Me

2008-10-06T20:39:00.000-05:00

Gary and I have tossed around the idea of having another baby from time to time. With him returning for R&R soon, we decided now was the time to decide for sure – baby or no baby.

Today I had an appointment for family planning. I had been told by my primary doctor that another baby was not a good idea. Today the OB/GYN confirmed it – no more babies for me.

I had pre-eclampsia with both Vicky and Gunner. This is the reason they took Gunner at 30 weeks. The doctor feels my chances of having pre-eclampsia –if I were to even get pregnant – would be greater than 50%. I would be a high risk pregnancy. I would most likely spend most of the time on bed rest and in the hospital – the hospital two hours away.

It would be selfish to get pregnant.

This doesn’t make it easier to handle. I wasn’t 100% sure I wanted another baby, but to be told not to was crushing.

While I realize women are far more than just a vessel to carry a baby, it is one of our most primal functions. To bear children. To procreate. Suddenly I feel useless. As ridiculous as it is, I feel useless.

I don’t see other women who can’t or don’t have children as useless. I just feel that I have absolutely nothing more to offer anyone. Yes, it’s very dramatic; however, it’s exactly how I feel.

When I told Gary today he said he was disappointed but my health wasn’t worth the risk. I want to believe him, but a strong part of me wonders why he’s married to me of all people. I’m over five years older than he is. If had married someone younger, maybe he could’ve had all the kids he wanted. I suggested this to him today – marrying someone younger and thinner. He said if he had done that, he wouldn’t have me.

That’s my point exactly.

Mrs. Gibson

2008-10-02T21:42:00.000-05:00

When I was in the 7th and 8th grade I had a social studies/P.E. teacher, Mrs. Gibson. She was a stern, overweight (and yet taught PE) black woman. At the time, I was scared shitless of her.

But I’ve remembered her all these years for two reasons. Reasons that have really had an effect on my life and who I am. I would imagine this woman is probably no longer living. She was older then, though at my age I probably thought 30 was old. LOL

The first lesson I learned was that hard work pays off. Seems simple, doesn’t it? I was in 8th grade before I realized that by doing my homework, I could achieve good grades. Sad, but true. My mother’s view on schoolwork was always, “As long as you bring home a C, that’s good enough.” Good enough? No, it wasn’t. I was an intelligent child. I should have been encouraged.

On a day I stayed home from school sick, I did the worksheet that Mrs. Gibson sent home with a friend or sibling. I actually sat down, read the book, filled in the worksheet. Turned it in the next day. I missed two. TWO. I received an “A.” I’m not even sure why it was her class I chose to make this change in schoolwork. I think it had to do with my fear of her. Whatever it is, it was in her class that I learned to do my school work.

The other HUGE lesson I learned was about being a woman and having your own opinion. This would have been in the late-70’s. I remember her saying that even her husband didn’t know who she voted for because it wasn’t his business. It was hers. I don’t remember why she said it. I don’t remember anything else about that day other than this statement.

It was then I realized that you could have an opinion. Even if you were black, overweight and a woman.

Thirty years later I still think of Mrs. Gibson. I wonder where she is. I wish she could know the impact she had on my life. It was that point in my schooling that everything changed.

I went on to graduate my senior class valedictorian.

Sooo, if anyone knows Mrs. Gibson from Twining Elementary at Grand Forks Air Force Base, North Dakota…

What's in YOUR wallet?

2008-09-27T20:57:00.001-05:00

If you have Capital One, a bunch of headache. That's for damn sure.

I am so fed up with Capital One. I have had nothing but issues with them since Gary deployed. A bit of background:

Gary lost his Capital One card back in January while in Iraq. I receive a frantic call from him at 3am one morning telling me he lost the card, to call and report it stolen. I am an authorized user as well as the Power of Attorney on this account. I call and get the India call center. I explain to the representative that my husband has lost his card and I need to have it cancelled and reissued. He tells me in heavily-accented English that as the authorized user I can’t do that. I tell him I have Power of Attorney. I know this as I received a letter from Capital One confirming this. He tells me that yes he sees the POA but I’m just not allowed to do anything. WHAT! I ask him to speak to an American. I receive a new card in the mail. All is settled.

Or is it?

Last weekend I accidentally locked myself out of the online account. I called to ask them to re-set the password. This is where the real fun begins. Again, I’m told that I can’t do that. The lady asks to speak with Gary. I tell her she can’t. Can she please just talk to me being as I have the POA. Oh no. For security reasons we simply can’t do that. I ask to talk to someone else. I don’t even ask for an American. I get some dude named Steven. Good ole Steve tells me that I’m “only” the POA and can’t make changes. I ask him if he knows what a Power of Attorney is? He scrolls frantically through his scripts and then reads to me the legal definition of the Power of Attorney. I said, “So you see. As POA, I can make changes.” Getting ever more ticked. Nope. Stephen says I can’t. I lose it. I scream at Steven to transfer me to an American. Yeah, I know, not the best way to make us Americans look good.

I get an American. Well this chick claims she doesn’t see the POA! WHAT!!! I just had two previous representatives tell me they saw it. So I try reasoning with her. I say, “Do you see where back in January a new card was issued?” She says yes. That I did that because I was the authorized user. I tell her that no, no this isn’t why. I’m the POA. She goes back and forth with me.

Then she tells me she sees the POA on the OTHER CARD. I say, “The card that was cancelled and reissued because my husband in Iraq lost it?” She says yes. But that POA is only good for that card. OH DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN ABOVE. I take a few deep breaths and say to her, “You mean you can see the Power of Attorney but won’t talk to me because it’s on another card number, which is this same account?” She says yes. I told her my POA is for all things, not just account XXXX. She disagrees. I admit, I was rude then. I said, “You disagree? Tell me, Jane, what law school did you attend?” Needless to say the call went downhill from there.

Then I call back and get a Nina. Nina tells me that yeah, she sees my husband’s orders but not the POA! That she can’t transfer the military pricing (4%) interest to the new card because it was for the old card which is.. THE SAME ACCOUNT! I have to send in the orders, my POA, everything. I say to her, “You know, I could have had some homeless guy call and pretend to be my husband and you wouldn’t have known. I try to do the right thing and look how this ends.” She’s apologetic but can’t do anything. I try explaining to her how frustrated I am. Nina says she understands how I feel.

OH REALLY? I ask her if she really knows what it’s like to have a husband in Iraq while she tries to deal with everything back home – including credit card companies who won’t help.

I was in tears. Nina admits that no, no she doesn’t have that but she understands. Uhm, ok. I try politeness. I appeal to her sense of good and fairness.

“Nina,” I say, “ Nina… I know you could help me. You see the documents. Why can’t you escalate this to the higher person and have them get it done? Surely this can be done?” Nope.

I hang up. Pissed. In tears. Disgusted.

I fax everything, as well as a letter that I’m sure no one in Capital One will bother to read, the next day. Orders. Power of Attorney. Gary’s re-enlistment contract.

I wait a week.

I call. Get “Mac” on the phone. Mac says he sees that my Power of Attorney is on file. I want to reset my password. Mac puts me on hold. Then transfers me to Renny.

Renny … oh Renny.. she SEES MY POWER OF ATTORNEY but asks to talk to Gary. I ask her why. I try very hard to remain calm. She says I don’t have the authority to make changes. Oh… ohhhhh ohhhhhhhhhhhh. I hold it together and ask her just what a POA is. She reads the legal definition. Still doesn’t get it. I ask to talk to an American. She puts me on hold. Comes back on and offers to assist me. I asked her to admit she didn’t understand what she was doing before. I mean c’mon. I’ve had enough. She says that wasn’t the case. I guess I’m hard-headed now. I ask to be transferred to an American.

So, here I sit. Waiting for an American. I’ve been on hold 25 minutes.

I swear to God when Gary gets back in November with the card, we’re canceling it.

And now.. my call was just disconnected. OH MY GOD. I am going to lose it. Lose it. LOSE IT.

After calling back. Another 25 minutes on the phone. A lot of crying. My blood pressure probably hitting stroke level, I was able to finally get the account unlocked. All of this was because no one bothered to look in the proper section of the notes.

Rambling Post

2008-09-24T18:31:00.001-05:00

This post is going to be rambling but I so want to share this … even with just my blog.

I’m in therapy. Have been off and on for years. I have depression and an anxiety disorder. I recently re-started therapy. Today was my second day with Mrs. R – my new therapist.

While taking my psychosocial history --where I tell here where, how and with whom I grew up – we got to the part where I told her that my older sister and I were sent back from the Philippines (where my step-father was stationed in the Air Force) to live with our grandparents when I was about six. The two younger siblings, not in school, stayed to finish the rest of the two year tour with my mother and her then-husband.

The therapist asked me why I was sent back home. I asked if she wanted to know the truth as I knew it or the truth as my mother told it. The answer was both.

The truth as I know it:

Due to the poor schooling system, older sister and I were sent back to live with our grandparents.

The truth as my mother told it:

My sister and I were molested by Filipino men and we were sent away to save us.

I never believed the molestation memory. My mother’s version of truth is often at odds with what other people actually see. Today though, for the first time ever, I had a moment where a memory came back so real. So clear. So right on I actually became dizzy and light headed.

My therapist told me she thought perhaps someone within the school system had noticed (or been told) of the sexual abuse that was on-going at my home. I was being molested by my step-father. Mrs. R suggested that maybe, just maybe, a teacher told the authorities and that is why we were sent home. This would have been 1974-ish. Reports of abuse would have been investigated, but more or less swept under the rug. My sister and I were sent home. Problem solved (in my mom’s eyes).

Much of this time frame is a blur to me. I was between six and seven years old during this. Years later, when I asked my mother why, she told me that it was the school system that was so lacking and we were sent home for educational reasons. Another time, she told me it was the molestation of Filipinos,

Looking back now, I see how ludicrous this was. First, I was going to a Department of Defense school. These are wonderful schools. Coincidently, Mrs. R informed me today that DOD schools became some of the first schools required to report abuse. Remember, this was before the mandatory reporting laws.

There are so many facts that are now swimming in my head. I remember my sister and I had a female escort – an Air Force officer. I remember this clearly. Why? Why would we have an AIR FORCE escort if the situation was one that was only of poor schools?

As I sat talking to Mrs. R today, something hit me so hard from out of the blue. Not a repressed memory but a buried memory. Not long before I was sent home, my sister and I were caught playing “doctor” with the children of a couple my parents were friends with.
The parents of these children were far more concerned than what I remember my parents being.

So now, my mind is reeling. I have a new reality. What I firmly believe is a closer version to the truth. I was not sent home because of the schools being horrible. Or strange men molesting my sister and me. Rather, my sister and I were sent home because either my sister or myself told someone, or our actions told someone, what was going on. Back in the early to mid-70’s the way this would have been dealt with was to send the problem away. Thus, my sister and I were sent back.

When I had this revelation today, I seriously got light-headed. It was a genuine moment in my life where the facts finally, FINALLY, added up. So much of my childhood is a re-telling of the facts via my mother. My mother, the queen of fabrication. Today, cold-hard facts, finally made sense to me. Things that never had quite fallen into place, did today.

While I’m “over” my abuse. I have “dealt” with it. It no longer defines who I am. It certainly attributed to some of the issues I either have, had or will have, but I don’t dwell on it. I have not been mad at my abuser or years. I have long ago forgiven him. I actually feel sad for him and wish him the best.

Today, though, I realized something wonderful: SOMEONE HAD CAME TO MY DEFENSE.

For many years, I would mull over my abuse and wonder why, oh why, did no one do anything. Did teachers not see things? Did no one suspect things? All these years, I really felt that I had been abandoned by so many people so many times. Nameless, faceless people.

But someone, all those years ago, PROTECTED me. He or she bought me a year of living away from my abuser. Living with my grandparents in a stable home.

Whoever you are, thank you.

Today’s session wasn’t a life-changing moment, per se. But to have a small fact from so far in the past finally neatly explained makes me feel more whole. More solid. Sounds hokey, but it’s true.

Homecoming

2008-09-20T15:59:00.001-05:00

Today I was thinking about the homecoming that is still about four months away. I realized I get something civilian spouses probably never will. No homecoming that I can imagine can compare to the excitement, the nervousness, the jitters that you get while you’re waiting in the bleachers listening to the piped in music. Being told that the buses are X minutes away. Hearing the patriotic music (usually a bunch of Toby Keith songs..lol) and then… it happens.

The music stops for a minute and the chosen song starts. In they march. All in formation. Knowing so many of them are using what little self-restraint they have to march orderly. To stand at attention while they hear one last speech and thanks from a higher ranking soldier.

You scan the rows of nearly identical people. All identical until you see him. Even though you haven’t seen him in what feels like forever, you know his walk. You know his stance. You scream louder. Cry harder. Wave more frantically trying to get his attention. You see the slight smiles of the soldiers trying to be stoic when they hear the ruckus of everyone screaming their welcome. You blink through the tears, looking in amazement and awe at the man you love with all of your heart. And know that tonight, tonight you sleep in the same bed with him.

Finally, at long last, they’re dismissed. You make your way to your soldier –through the crowds of other eager family members -- and that sweet moment that you are finally in his arms for the first time in too many months .

There’s no homecoming near as sweet.

So, I Gave Birth to a Serial Killer

2008-09-17T19:37:00.000-05:00

I am raising a serial killer. Here is proof:

Monday I go to pick my darling son – the soon-to-be serial killer—up from daycare. Out of the corner of my eye, as I’m signing him out, I see the teacher sitting at a table and sternly telling a few children something about a frog. You know that split second where you can think one million things? Yeah this is mine… I was putting the time on the sign out sheet as I hear the teacher tell the children in a very grave tone that shaking the frog was wrong. VERY WRONG.

I’m putting the pen down, starting to turn around… hoping, praying that I don’t see my son at the table of frog torturers. All the while hearing the teacher railing against the injustice this poor frog has suffered. Sure enough… there’s my little killer…err angel.. sitting at the table with two other boys. He notices me noticing him and runs crying to me. I take him back to the table and sit down to listen to the case against him.

Apparently he and the two hooligans he was hanging with that day decided – even after strict warnings from the teacher and class room aides—to shake the terrarium. Yes, the little devils shook the house of the frog. Then thumped on the plastic.

I had been listening to the teacher tell the kids how wrong this was, etc. In my mind I’m wondering how my little boy has turned into such a horrible person. I wonder if maybe, just perhaps, this whole deployment business has finally done him in – he’s torturing animals!!!! I’m planning my finances, wondering how I’ll afford the bail and legal defense of my offspring.

Then I hear it… the teacher actually says: This poor frog is having a panic attack. A panic attack? The frog.. yes the frog.. was having a panic attack. I look up at the teacher to be sure I understood correctly. I realize that I’ve been sitting here for at least five minutes listening to her chastise these poor kids about a FROG.

I finally say, “Gunner, apologize to Ms. S for not listening to her instructions.” Dutifully he did so… then started crying again when Ms. S. told him he was forgiven but that the frog deserved an apology. Seriously?

Thankfully, before I had to actually come up with a response for this, we were interrupted by some other ruckus in the classroom. I gather up my fiend of a child and we head out. I catch the eye of another mother of a felon-in-training. I can tell she’s not sure if she should laugh or scold her son.

Out in the hallway I have a conversation with the little guy:

ME: Baby, you know that we shouldn’t hurt animals, right?

G: Yes, ma’am.

ME: I mean you wouldn’t shake Kado while he was sleeping in his cage, right? ::Kado is my in-laws 100 lb German Shepherd::

G: MOMMMY! Noooo, we don’t hurt animals.

ME: Ok. Just checking.

G: Mommy? You aren’t going to shake a dog are you?

ME: Of course not.

G: Good because then a dog would shake you back. Then you’d be a frog. Then Ms. S would yell at the dog for shaking you.

And he bursts out laughing hysterically. Oh how I love my son – even if he is going to be in prison before he hits third grade.

Army Logic

2008-07-09T19:07:00.001-05:00

You have to love Army logic. Here are two examples Gary told me yesterday. The first one is one of those “WHAT? And they think this keeps them safer?” The other one is amusing.

ARMY LOGIC ONE:

In an effort to mitigate the injuries and deaths due to IED’s the Army has come up with an extremely well thought out plan. When soldiers see a disabled vehicle – often used to plant IED’s-- on the side of the road, they are to dismount their heavily armored humvees and push said vehicle with their bare hands to the nearest police checkpoint. Stunning logic. Isn’t it?

ARMY LOGIC TWO:

PFC Moron (names have been changed to protect the retarded) passed out in the supply room from huffing canned air. As a result of this mishap, any soldier ranked E-6 and below is no longer allowed to possess canned air. Rather, they must go to their Platoon Sergeant (PSG) and request canned air. Said PSG then goes to the supply room and obtains canned air from… wait for it… wait for it… PFC MORON!!! Yes, folks, PFC Moron will now be in charge of the company’s canned air as he has shown his complete competence in the correct usage of this product.

Two Years Ago and 200 Pounds Ago

2008-05-30T20:08:00.003-05:00

Two years ago today I had gastric bypass. Te changes in my life are amazing. Broken down in inches:

I've lost...

Waist - 22 inches
Arms - 4.75 inches
Thighs - 7.5 inches
Neck - 4 1/2 inches
Calves - 4 inches
Hips - 18.5 inches

I've gained so much more. Confidence. The ability to shop for clothes in normal stores, not stores where clothing is designed for the super plus-sized. Energy beyond anything I can remember. So many things I can't even put into words.

Through it all, my husband loved me. We have our issues but he always thinks I'm beautiful. He hesitates to even say he thinks I'm more beautiful now with the weight loss. The only thing he'll admit to is finding my new self-confidence beautiful. To him, I have always been beautiful.

Here are a few pictures to show the change:

**

IT’S MORE THAN A THREE DAY WEEKEND

2008-05-25T10:30:00.004-05:00

Memorial Day has come to mean a lot to Americans. It’s the start of summer. The time of the year we break out the grill, suntan lotion and invite friends over for a sun-soaked day of fun. The Tuesday after Memorial Day we return to our normal routines… returning to work with a bit of a tan, maybe a hangover and by Wednesday it’s all just a blur.

That’s what most of America sees, feels and experiences.

It’s so much more than that. The meaning of Memorial Day has been lost on so many. This is ironic being as we are in the midst of not one but two wars that are taking its toll on our nation.

Memorial Day is meant to be a day of remembering those who gave the “ultimate” sacrifice. The day we honor those who gave their lives in support of our country.

Tomorrow, when most are barbequing and some are remembering our fallen soldiers, I ask you to remember some of the less-remembered casualties of war:

Paul Varner – Paul’s death was a result of a tragic training accident. Paul was a young man who loved the Army. Looked up to his leadership. Wanted nothing more than to prove himself as an honorable soldier. He is not forgotten to those in Delta Company, 2/4 INF. He is remembered the soldier who has Paul’s “battle rattle” tattooed on his arm. A tribute to his fallen friend.

He is remembered in the dreams and nightmares of SSgt Gary Robertson. Who reluctantly admits to me that some nights he dreams of Paul? He tells me of how he blames himself for having chosen Paul to be one of the soldiers to go onto the training field. Or how he has flashbacks to gently washing out a helmet splattered with brain matter. Of gently wiping down the ID card left on the field after Paul was medi-vaced.

He is remembered by me. I met Paul once. Gary and I were leaving Military Clothing and Sales when we ran into Paul. Paul immediately went into “parade rest” stance – the way a soldier stands when talking to a superior. Gary told Paul he could relax, they weren’t in uniform. I was struck at how proud Paul was to have purchased his new rank. He had just been promoted. He asked my husband questions on where to put rank, how, etc. I knew this was one proud soldier.

Paul is remembered by SPC Jimmy Vidal. Jimmy was the other soldier who was involved in the shooting. To meet Jimmy is to meet one of the sweetest men you’ll ever meet. It’s hard to picture him behind a gun. Yet, he is a wonderful soldier. A man full of honor. A man full of pride. He is also a man who must struggle with the memories of watching his fellow soldier get shot. Of wrestling with questions such as “why did I live and not him.”

This is only one example of a fallen soldier who gave all here on American soil.

There are other casualties of war. So many more. Death is the ultimate sacrifice. Or is it? What of the soldiers who return from war only to find their family is destroyed? Broken up by the passing of too much time apart. Too many doubts?

Or of the children left behind waiting for mommy or daddy to come home. The little ones who can’t understand WHY daddy isn’t home. The four year old boy who cries in his sleep and whimpers “daddy.” Who takes for granted at such a young age that daddies and mommies go to work and are gone for “two forty seven years.” Or, in four year old lingo, forever.

The soldier over in Iraq who misses out on the ceremony of watching his only son receive his first black stripe on his karate belt. Or misses out on his granddaughter’s first steps. Or first birthday. Or more simply, misses being able to lay in bed with his wife and watch silly sci-fi shows while she falls asleep, albeit drooling, on his chest.

These, my fellow Americans (wow, how Kennedy-ish of me) are some of the casualties of war so much of America doesn’t see.

With that, I leave you with this:

Quick Update

2008-05-08T19:14:00.002-05:00

*Gary came home for two weeks. It was wonderful to see him. His dad had quadruple bypass and is recovery quite well. Gary is, of course, back in Baghdad already.

*Gunner has adjusted to Gary's coming and going quite well.

*We spent a day in Colorado Springs at the zoo and had a great time.

*I broke up with my mommy board. :(

WOW.. I finally figured out how to change my password

2008-04-12T21:06:00.002-05:00

Things have been ... hectic! Gary's supposed to be on his way home from Iraq right now. His father had a quadruple bypass yesterday. At this point, Gary's emergency leave home has been delayed TWICE because... wait for it... wait for it... THE RED CROSS MESSAGE WASN'T ON THE CORRECT FORM.

That's right, folks. Your men and women serving this country are held up by such bullshit as that. His brigade commander apparently didn't get enough coffee today or something and decided that he would delay Gary's homecoming by not signing off on the form because it wasn't on the RIGHT FUCKING FORM!!!!!!

At this point, seven hours after Gary is supposed to be on a flight from Iraq to Kuwait, I have no clue where my husband is. If he's coming home. To where he's flying.

I hate the Army. Not because it deploys my husband. But for little shit like this.

Update

2008-01-17T16:08:00.000-06:00

*I miss Gary (surprise, surprise).

*Gunner is adorable and suddenly behaving. Though very hyper.

*Madelin is crawling!!

*Work is boring, but fun. We need more customers. But with most of the post deployed, it just isn't happening.

*I'm trying not to get my hopes up that Gary will do something for me for Valentine's Day.

That's about it. Very boring here.

I Started My New Job Today

2008-01-02T17:26:00.001-06:00

Yep, back to the working world. Ewwww.. it was boring today. It looks as if it could be fun. Who knows. I sort of had fun. I sort of hated it. I sort of loved it.

Happy Birthday Gunner

2007-12-31T08:04:00.000-06:00

On July 7, 2003 I peed on a stick. Seven sticks actually. It later became known as “The Night of Seven pregnancy tests. On July 9, the nurse called with the blood test results: I WAS PREGNANT!! My due date was March 11, 2004. Gary and I were ecstatic.

My pregnancy was full of all day sickness. Lots of insomnia. And tons of planning. Because I was 35, I was referred to a perinatoligst, meaning I got ultra-sounds every month. I got to see my precious boy growing from an amoeba shaped blob to a beautiful little blob of boy.

On December 30, 2003 I went to the perinatologist for my routine visit. I had some swelling and was very uncomfortable. At 29 weeks (a normal pregnancy is 40 weeks), I was admitted to labor and delivery with blood pressure of 200/111. For 24 hours they collected my urine, kept me hooked up to an I.V. with a horrible medicine that made me hot, miserable and unable to even turn over without Gary’s assistance. I was given two steroid shots to help mature the baby’s lungs.

When the urine test results returned, the protein count was so high the doctor immediately decided to take the baby. I was rocking a full blown case of pre-eclampsia.

I was wheeled back to the operating room. Scared shitless. Gary was the usual rock. At 3:54 p.m. December 31, 2003 the most wonderful boy in the world was carved from my body. He weighed in at three pounds, six ounces. Sounds small, but for a baby born at 29 weeks, six days gestation, he was considered a “horse” the neonatologist told us.

Gunner arrived in the world breathing on his own. Amazing in and of itself. After three hours, they decided to put him on the ventilator since he had to work so hard to breathe. He was only on the ventilator for 36 hours.

Ultimately, my precious boy spent seven and a half weeks in the N.I.C.U. He was 10 weeks early. The Lord blessed us – the boy has no residual effects from being premature. He is a perfect, rambunctious, wild FOUR YEAR OLD today. Amazing. Simply Amazing.

Three days old:

Today:

So That Others May Believe

2007-12-28T20:02:00.000-06:00

On Christmas Eve, Gary’s squad and one other squad spent their patrol time guarding one of the few Christian churches in the heart of Baghdad. Intel had come through that insurgents were going to make a strike on the church that night.

Originally they had planned on clearing the church to ensure the worshippers were safe. Then it was decided that they would allow them in the church and beef up the security. Amazingly, this was a decision left up to the individual squad leaders. Meaning, Gary and his fellow squad leader were able to make the decision to allow others to worship.

I told Gary that I was proud of him. He was raised in a church going family. Me, not at all. Though I wholeheartedly believe. I said something referencing Jesus and our general worshipping of God. To which he replied, “Baby, I would guard a temple, a mosque, a pagan’s gathering point, anywhere. I would guard those sites on the most holy of their nights in the most dangerous of situations. I can’t pick and chose what I believe in to guard. I’m a soldier. I want to guard other’s beliefs. I want the four year old Muslim child to be able to worship his God just like I want our four year old to be able to worship our God. In the end, we all just want to believe. ” He didn’t say it to sound badass (though he sure did in MY eyes). He was matter-of-fact about it. Much like he is on things that I’d be emotional about. He said it because that’s how he believes. That’s how he picks his gun up and carries on when he’s away from the ones he loves the most.

He does it so that others can believe.

WHAT? Me ... WORK?!

2007-12-22T08:18:00.000-06:00

I interviewed for a job at 10:00 a.m. Thursday. By 11:15 a.m., I was employed. Making more than I asked for. With hours better than I could imagine. At a place less than five minutes from my house. Amazing.

It would appear the woman had made the decision to hire me even before I interviewed. I guess I just rock that freaking much.

Now I have to actually CONTRIBUTE to society.

I wasn’t even sure I wanted to work. I found the job quite on a fluke. I had tossed around the idea of getting a job while Gary’s deployed to build up our savings and pass the time.

It’s a perfect job. I’m so nervous. I’ll keep ya posted!

Letter To My Husband

2007-12-19T14:07:00.000-06:00

Dear Deployed Husband Whom I Love Beyond Words:

I knew what I was getting when I married you. I knew you were in the Army. I knew you would deploy. When we got married, you were on R&R from your tour of the DMZ in Korea. I KNEW you would deploy again. I expected it. I accept it.

However, my darling, you knew you were getting married as well. It’s not as if I just showed up one day and said, “Contratuations! It’s a wife!!!” With marriage comes responsibilities. You knew when we married that you would deploy. Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe, you should put some effort into our marriage even when you are deployed.

I understand the paper and envelopes you took with you were locked in the CON-EX for a few weeks. Correct me if I’m wrong, doesn’t the PX over there sell paper and envelopes? Could you not have picked some up to write to me and your son while you were waiting for your own supplies? Or borrowed some from someone. Or written on a napkin. ANYTHING. Something. The mail is free for you… utilize it.

You think nothing of telling me when something hurts your feelings. Yet, I am supposed to hold back my feelings. I’m not allowed to tell you when you hurt mine because what if you go on a patrol and you are thinking about me and you miss a sniper. Things like that.

Yes, my love, you are being shot at. You do have to avoid IED’s. I can’t claim to know what this is like. I am in awe of your bravery. Truly I am. I know I couldn’t do that. I know I would cower like a scared puppy the first time I heard the mortar sirens.

BUT… but… my life here goes on even while you are over there. Our son’s life goes on. It is hard for us here. Very hard without you. We have so much time on our hands to sit and miss and think about you. Bills still have to be paid. Dinner made. A three year old to contend with. A three year old who misses his daddy so much he has turned into a living terror. Doctor’s appointments to be kept. Simply put, our lives go on. Without you they go on, and they are harder now.

A knock on our door scares the living daylights out of me. What if it’s the dreaded knock of them coming to tell me you are gone. The ringing of the phone in the middle of the night is the same. What if it is you calling to tell me you have been seriously injured. Don’t you see what we go through?

You have often said you think it is harder on us than on you. Why, then, is this deployment all about you? Why can you not just once do something small to remind me that I count. That I’m a good wife. Please? .It would help my daily cryfest end sooner if I had something to lean on.

Love,

Your Wife

Waa Waa Wednesday, Complete with Video

2007-12-05T21:19:00.000-06:00

Today I cried. At Walmart. I didn't know what kind of oil to choose for the oil change. That's what GARY does. Does it get easier? Is my husband REALLY gone for 15 to 18 months?!?! Yeah, yeah, yeah..

I knew what I was getting into when I married him. I accept that my husband has to deploy. I accept that his job is more dangerous than some other of my friend's husbands. I accept that there are also people with far more dangerous jobs. I know I'm not alone. I know other spouses have gone through this, and worse. SO WHAT?! I miss him. A lot!

I worry about him. And miss him. And ache for him.

We aren't a perfect couple. But we're US.

He is my rock. I feel out of touch. And vulnerable. And lonely. Heart-breakingly, bone-achingly lonely.

**Then.. and THEN.. I found this video. It's of my precious grandbaby, Madelin, at the deployment ceremony a few weeks ago. She makes me smile. She's all that is right with the world. Her and my crazy son, Gunner

If you click on the title of my post it will take you to the video.. I couldn't figure out how to do it otherwise**

I wish I had

2007-12-04T12:06:00.001-06:00

I wish I had:

*A fun female friend to go riding in a convertible with – top down (on the car, not us!)—blaring music and laughing. Nothing “Thelma & Louisa”-like. Just fun.

*A friend, male or female, to go to a coffee shop to sit and talk about random things. Nothing that is in our lives. Things such as serial killers, successful women, etc. Just random, odd things.

*The desire to shower and get dressed.

As for my birthday -- not a single card or gift. I suck.

You'll Hear From My Lawyer!!

2007-12-01T12:08:00.000-06:00

Yesterday was quite the banner day. I missed Gary something fierce. The “service engine soon” light came on. The air in the tires on the car are low. Oh and someone actually uttered the following phrase to me, “Tomorrow you’ll be hearing from my lawyer.” That, actually, makes me snicker. I honestly thought this was only said in movies. Apparently, I was wrong. Some background info…

Across the way from me, there lives a young soldier, his wife, children and three dogs. The limit for pets in post housing is two. A mere technicality when you’re above the law. These poor mutts bark incessantly. Either Gary or I have gone over and told these people to hush their dogs on numerous occasions. They do. For a while.

Yesterday afternoon, as I try to peacefully read blogs, I hear loud music for quite a while. I go investigate…lo and behold, parked in the backyard of the aforementioned family’s abode is a car with the windows down and some techno crap blaring. And, interestingly, no one in said car. Well, of course it is at that house. I just have good luck with random coincidences such as this. I knock on the door . Pvt. Rat (house resident) opens the door.

ME: Hi. Is that your car out back with the music blaring?

PR: No.

ME: Oh well….

::suddenly inside I hear a voice.. the voice of Pvt. Hero*)

PH: It’s MINE.

ME: Great. Turn it down. I can hear it on the next street.

PR goes to close the door. I remind him gently that his dogs are exceedingly annoying. Apparently, this infuriates ole Hero. He steps outside, closes the door, gets in my face as if I’m some lower ranking soldier he’s trying to intimidate (think of a drill sergeant on the Tide commercials.. ya know?)

PR: You listen here. (as if I have a choice being as he’s less than two inches from my face) This man is a UNITED STATES soldier, serving in the UNITED STATES Army. He just got back from Iraq. He’ll be PCSing (moving) in a week.

After I get over the mind-numbing, statistically improbable odds that a UNITED STATES soldier, serving in the UNITED STATES Army on a UNITED STATES Army military post was living near me, I reply:

ME: Great. Newsflash: My husband is a UNITED STATES soldier, serving in the same damn UNITED STATES Army. It doesn’t matter. Turn your music down. Your friend still needs to keep the dogs quiet. I don’t care if he’s leaving in a week. You still need to turn down your music.

I turn to walk away. Hero keeps yammering nonsense. I ask him what unit he’s in. He tells me it’s none of my fucking business. Uhm, ok. It sort of is.. but …. I walk around back and decide to take a picture of Hero’s car’s license plate. I have friends in high places, folks. It does NOT pay to piss me off. Or more like, my daughter has friends.

Hero comes storming out. He yells at me, “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer tomorrow!!” Attempts to back into me, and speeds off.

SERIOUSLY? I’ll hear from your lawyer?!?! AWESOME! Before he speeds off, I ask Pvt. Hero if his lawyer has a name. I can’t be sure, but based on his rapid peel out in his hotshot car, I’m thinking his lawyer might just be sans name.

Then I started thinking… What if he does have a lawyer? I could potentially be screwed here. I mean surely there is some vague Louisiana law that prohibits someone from asking a jackass to turn their music down. Right? I’ve probably broken a multitude of civil laws. I’ve committed quite the tort on this fine, upstanding soldier. Rather than panic, I began to review my options. I am, after all, an Army Wife. ARMY STRONG. HOOAH!

I came up with two options. While both are sound plans, I think we can all agree Option Two is, by far, the best.

Option one: When said nameless lawyer contacts me, I can call JAG (Judge Advocate General for you non-military type… it’s like free legal for us military folk). They’ll surely defend my honor. Sure that’s a perfectly logical plan. BUT BUT.. . then it came to me.

Option two: While I know a plethora of the J.D. type having worked in that field for many years, why call on them? Why not go to the best money can’t buy.. AVITABLE. You know… if I can get him to tear himself away from his inappropriate, hypersexual, alcohol-saturated other “friendship” that disrespects their spouses with Miss Britt. It won’t be easy, but perhaps I can woo him with tales of rewards in the form of Diet Coke with Lime, ice cold. A never-ending supply.

Not only is this man a blogging genius. A veritable minister of snark (though snarky implies femininity, I love this word nonetheless). Surely this man can draw upon some patriotic bone in his vast body (hey he’s the one that likens himself to an 800 pound gorilla… not me) to defend the honor (or lack thereof) of a deployed soldier’s wife. We are at war people. We all must do our part!!!

Picture it… Pvt. Hero (all of 145 pounds of shaking, self-rightious rage) versus the one, the only, AVITABLE!! Oh… oh.. oh I hope to hear from that lawyer today. Tomorrow. SOON… I even more reverently hope and pray that Avitable will tear himself away from his alcohol-sodden affair with Miss Britt (who, by the way, is encouraged to join the Dream Team legal defense I’m sure to need) to defend me.

Let the trial of the MELLENIUM begin!!!!

*Hero is a term used derogatorily in the Army to rfer to someone who is anything but…

**There are more minor details to the story. Including an anti-climatic ending… but this is a long enough post. Maybe tomorrow the legal drama will continue.

Milestone Birthdays

2007-11-30T12:29:00.001-06:00

Warning: This will be a woe-is-me post.

There are certain milestone birthdays we all have. One, 13 (you know.. because you’re now a TEEN), 21 (bring on the booze legally now!), 25 (insurance rates go down, you’re now a quarter of a century), 30, 40, etc.

I don’t remember my 13th birthday. Chances are it was nothing special. None of my birthdays were that spectacular growing up. Boo hoo.

Twenty-one, I got so wasted due to my then-boyfriend feeding me shot after shot after shot of Jack Daniel’s that to this day I sport a scar on my forehead and a chipped tooth as everlasting souvenirs. You can say I remember that birthday for sure.

Twenty-five, I vaguely recall that my insurance went down.

Thirty… Yeah what a day. I had told my husband of the time, Scott, that I had never had a birthday party in my life. That I wanted a surprise birthday party for my 30th birthday. I told him this on my 29th birthday. This gave the man a YEAR to plan. My birthday came and went. Despite numerous reminders throughout the year, there was no party. There was no cake. There wasn’t even a freaking present!!! I remember telling Gary this story and he was so sad that this happened to me. Gary, the man with no compassion for other people, actually felt sorry for me.

Well, folks, Monday is my 40th birthday. Let me digress… here is where you send me emails, post comments, etc. exclaiming that you simply CANNOT believe that I am 40. That I look not a day older than, oh I don’t know… 32. Yeah, not a day older than 32. Anyhoooo… Monday. My 40th. Not a damn thing to do. I won’t get a present. I stupidly told Gary that I knew he would be deployed and not to worry. OF COURSE HE SHOULD DO SOMETHING! What was I thinking?! I need that now more than if he were here. I thought the other day that it would be awesome if he had somehow managed to plan something for me before he left. Like arranged with Vicky to do something on that day. But I know he didn’t. I put that hope right out of my mind. I don’t want to set myself up for a sure let down. I thought about treating myself to a day at the spa – hair coloring (not that I have grey mind you.. not one single strand) and a pedicure. But then I realized finances just will not allow this. I can’t really eat cake because of the surgery. I keep trying to think of something fun to do. I came up with a list of things that would mark my 40th in a very auspicious way. For various reasons, none seem practical. Below is the list of the plans, followed by the obvious reason these will not work (ORTWNW).

PLAN A: Have earth shattering sex with two 20 year olds (2 + 20 = 40).
ORTWNW: Surely you can figure this one out.

PLAN B: Begin building an ark (rain, 40days/40 nights).
ORTWNW: I can barely hang a picture on the wall. I sure as heck can’t build an ark.
PLAN C: Go without sex for 40 days and 40 nights, a la Josh Hartnett in the movie of the same name.
ORTWNW: This plan actually WILL work.. and then some. Gary’s gone for 15 – 18 months.

PLAN D: Buy some sensible shoes. At 40 shouldn’t I have sensible shoes?
ORTWNW: Actually, I might have stumbled on something here. SHOPPING. Retail therapy. Hmmmm

So here is where I end this post. I need to go cry a bit more about my sure to be lousy birthday.

Today is My Fifth Year Anniversary

2007-11-26T12:03:00.000-06:00

He deployed to Iraq for 12 to 18 months this morning.

Small update

2007-11-21T06:17:00.001-06:00

Wow, I can’t believe I’ve gone a more than a month without posting. Of course with my vast readership, the world is nearly in chaos with the loss of my literary skills.

So.. here’s what’s been up. Or down.

My sister has been staying with me for a few weeks. It’s been fun – and stressful. The girl’s nuts half the time. Nuts as in “needs medication.” She has a seven month old son who deserves a post all to himself.

Vicky and Drew got married!! The wedding was very informal. I’m just glad my baby girl is no longer living in sin…lol. Here is the picture of my hubby walking her down the aisle. She walked to some country song -- can't remember which one -- and when she started walking, the lyrics "daddy walks his little girl down the aisle" came on. Sooo perfect. Not even planned.

Gary deploys this week. On our FIFTH ANNIVERSARY. Oh sure, the traditional gift is wood. My husband, being the trendsetter that he is, decided to give me a 15-18 month deployment. Woo-freakin-hooo.

Well, off to prepare for turkey day.

BATMAN!!!

2007-10-12T07:55:00.000-05:00

Batman preparing to fight the good fight:

Batman looking out over Gotham City

Batman gearing up for his hard night's work:

Batman and Joker

Promotions!!

2007-10-02T12:09:00.000-05:00

Today Gary pinned on his new, improved, super-exciting rank. He's now a Staff Sergeant (E-6). Yippeee... Here are some pictures of said pinning.

Good News/Bad News

2007-09-28T10:50:00.000-05:00

ME: I have some good news and some bad news.

GARY: OK.

ME: The good news is I have 30 extra days.

GARY: Uhm.. ok, for what?

ME: The speeding ticket I got for going 45 in a 61.

Soo... Seriously

2007-09-27T09:55:00.000-05:00

Not that I have a huge readership (though I like to pretend to myself I have plenty of lurkers)... Sometimes I want to confess things on my little blog. I don't because of the following:

*I know girls from my mommy board read my blog. Most of them I don't really care what they'd think about a certain confession I have. There is one though that I actually really care about what she thinks. She is not judgmental at all. I really value her lifestyle and her personality. She's never harsh, but never sickly sweet. I don't want her to think ill of me. (For those from my March board.. her initials are GR...lol... two daughters. Lives in Cali... GR)

*I don't want people who DON'T know me to judge me based on the one confession.

I like bullets.

A Brand New Look

2007-09-26T14:41:00.000-05:00

Does this blog make me look fat? Noooo... it makes me look PHAT. Ok, yeah that was ultra lame. But dontcha love the new look? Thanks to Sheila, I have a new, pretty updated look. THANK YOU!!!

For the record.. I've tried and tried to insert little links like everyone else, but it doesn't work for me! Whyyyyyy

Kid Rock

2007-09-23T07:44:00.000-05:00

I triple heart Kid Rock. I do not know why. I just do. I make no excuses for the fact I so want to bathe him and then do very naughty things to him. Of course I realize that should miracles ever happen and I succeed in this goal, I'd need to take huge quantities of antibiotics and whatnot as he is rather...well.. skanky.

Anyway... He is in Atlanta on October 20. This is the closest venue to me for quite some time. I sooo want to go. Sadly, Gary would be a stick in the mud and no fun at the concert.

Guess my dream of bathing/molesting Kid Rock is put on hold yet again!

Hurricane Who?

2007-09-17T22:10:00.001-05:00

Hurricane Who

I live in a town that was not hit by Hurricane Katrina. It was sort of hit by Hurricane Rita. We lost power and some areas lost water for a week. That sucked. I left for that time and went to Georgia. My how I love Georgia. People have brains there.

Sooo, on Thursday, October 13, it rained. Oh and there was some wind. Gary came home from PT and informed me that all the schools in the parish were closed. WHAT? Why? Hurricane Humberto, of course. . Hmmm.. ok. I had a dentist appointment that morning. We get in the car, head out over to get my pretty little teeth cleaned. And guess what? Yup, the dentist was CLOSED due to the weather. Hmmm.. ok. I didn't really feel like being poked and prodded much that day anyway. On our way back home, my phone rings. It's my hairdresser/nail girl/therapist. She tells me that she is worried about her clients coming out in this weather and offers to reschedule. Apparently, beauty is taken far more seriously than dental health here in Louisiana. This explains a lot. Quite a bit, actually. Anyhoo, because I didn't feel like having my toes painted that day or my hair colored I decided to jump on the hurricane bandwagon. I rescheduled as well. Take THAT Hurricane Humberto.

Thank yous are in order

2007-09-11T10:07:00.000-05:00

Dear Mr. Maintenance Man ~

Thank you very much for making it to my house today to fix the exhaust fan in my bathroom. While I'm thanking you, let me thank you for a few more things.

I'm ever so appreciative that you parked in my reserved parking space. Surely your beat up ole truck deserves to be parked wherever you deem worthy. What was I thinking to assume that others would understand the concept of "reserved?"

I'm absolutely thrilled that you had nothing identifying you as an employee of the company from which the government leases these homes. The mere fact you were standing on my doorstep looking vaguely pissed off at having to work should have clued me in that you were an employee. Excuse my rudeness for asking for identification. Please pardon me for having you wait on the porch while I telephoned the office and confirmed you did, in fact, work for them.

While I'm in the thanking mode, allow me to thank Company X. The managers of this lovely abode in which I live. Thank you for hiring such a skilled employee. I think it is terribly wonderful that you do not require your employees to shave, bathe or wear a badge of some sort identifying them as your employees. Incognito is the way to go. Let the residents guess, right?

Back to you Mr. Maintenance Man. Thank you for leaving my front door wide open while you went to your truck to retrieve your tools. I love the fact that quite a few bugs flew right in my home. The more the merrier, I always say. Regretfully, not a single lizard made its way in. Such a shame. Walking back in my house, unannounced, was true genius. What a great way to startle a resident. Keeps the blood pumping. Thank you for looking out for my cardiovascular health.

In closing, Company X and Mr. Maintenance Man, thank you for a stellar job. Mere words cannot express how much I enjoyed our interaction today.

Sincerely,

Your Grateful Resident

Ch...Chhh.. Changes

2007-09-06T07:58:00.000-05:00

I always that swore when I lost weight I would still be the same ole "me." I truly believed this, too. I am not, however, the same ole me. I have changed quite significantly. I have gained and lost so much more than 180 pounds. Here's a little list, complete with cute little bullets:

* I have gained self-confidence. While this stands to reason, I am just amazed at this little fact. I no longer cringe when people look at me. Sure, sometimes people look at me and think "My GOD that woman needs to lose weight." Mostly people look at me because, oh I dunno, I happen to be in their line of sight. It's nothing nefarious. Just a casual glance. Then there are the few, but far more frequent, looks that maybe, just MAYBE, someone's looking at me thinking "hmmm not half bad." That's a new, and oh so nice, feeling.

*That chip on my shoulder? Gone. I no longer hate the world. Well, ok I do hate the world... just not everyone in it anymore.

*Clothing. I can't believe how great it is to be able to shop in almost any store I want for clothes. Amazing.

*The ability to flirt. Yes, flirt. With Gary. Uhm, yeah, sometimes with other guys. Don't worry it's all harmless and innocent. Usually.

*Flexibility. I can touch my toes bending over at the waist. Gary can't do that and he works out five times a week. I can also touch my nose with my toes. I'm thinking of joining the circus. This flexibility means I can do things like get on the floor and play with Gunner. Or lay on the floor while Maddy has tummy time and not have to have a crane heft my butt off the floor.

Yes, this weight loss thing has been an overall success. And now for some before and after pictures:

November 2003 (wedding picture)

November 2006 (Gary's redeployment from Afghanistan)

November 2006 (Anniversary picture)

September 2007

Strippers... Yes Strippers

2007-09-04T19:52:00.000-05:00

I've lived here for three years. Three long, grueling, horrible, humid years... but I digress. In the three years I've been here, I've noticed the multitude of strip clubs in this little town. After seeing a lot of the local women, I often mused to Gary, "just who ARE these strippers?" Leesville can't exactly be described as a city of beautiful people. Though it DID win an award back in 1995 as the cleanest city. I know this fact based on the drab, weather-beaten signs that are so proudly displayed throughout town. It's sad, like a not-so-gracefully aged beauty queen still wearing her tiara... but again I digress. Back to the strippers.

After three years of wondering, I can finally wonder no more. Though frankly, sometimes not having the answer to a question is better than having the answer. Last night my friend Ryan ... you know Ryan of X-Inferis ( http://www.myspace.com/stiffjimmy) [and yeah, that's a shameless plug for Ryan's band... of which I hear is awesome. Though I have yet to hear it] was on this podcast/webcast thingee. Not really sure what it was but here is the link http://www.freakandgeekshow.com/main2.html. Being the curious kind of girl that I am, I wondered what it was that Ryan did when he wasn't doing... well whatever it is Ryan does. Curious enough to even go to Gary's office and use his computer since mine has no sound. After about 10 minutes of watching this lively little show my three year long question of what local stripping talent looked like was answered.

Folks, it ain't pretty. I'm not sure what I was expecting. Really I'm not sure. I figured they wouldn't be that hot. But I expected them to be... oh I don't know.. PRETTY? Maybe have decent bodies? Now, I'm not saying I am stripper material. God no. That is barfy. But see that's my point exactly -- Girls, ladies, women.. KNOW YOUR LIMITS. If your ass still jiggles after you stopped moving, that's not talent. That's too much beer, too much chocolate, too much good eats at Sonic. And the chick with the bikini top and the boobs that were about as saggy as mine (uhm btw I have lost 180lbs so I'm entitled to some saggy flesh.. sexy, no?)... well couldn't she have done her hair before coming to work? Maybe tossed on some Maybelline?

Jealous you ask? Nope. I saw one of them do some "dancing." I'm relatively sure I could do that. Heck, I gave it a try and Gary gave me a credit card (don't ask where he swiped it). Anyway I guess my answer to strippers is now answered.

I summed it up best when I said to Gary, "The strippers on Billy Goat Hill (where the strip club is located) are so unappealing, not even a goat would eat them." (Sadly, I feel the need to explain that goats are known to eat about anything).

This concludes my stripper observation. Though I would like to give them kudos (and not the snack) for having the confidence to do that job. Looks can largely be irrelevant if you have the confidence to back it up. Oh and if moving flesh when one has stopped moving is a talent, I consider myself tops in the field.

How To Make A Single Man Loathe (or Love) Being a Bachelor

2007-08-31T08:49:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I found some things on Gary's computer that made me a bit crazy. Or crazier. I called him at work, said a few choice things, and he was home in less than 10 minutes. Never have I called him at work for anything. I don't feel it necessary to harass him at work. I am perfectly content in waiting until he gets home to harass him. Yesterday was the exception.

After I called him, he went to his platoon leader, Lt. S, and told him he had to go home. This is the basic conversation before Gary left...

G: Sir, I need to go home. My wife found some porn and things from the UK on my computer. She's going to leave.

LT: Go home. Deal with it. Weapons can wait.

G: The UK! I don't even like black pudding!

LT: (looking confused, but concerned) Uhm, yeah, me either. Go.

G: Roger, Sir.

::Gary comes home. We solve the problem. I take Gary back to work assuring him I will NOT leave and I WILL pick him up from work::

Conversation with LT after returning to work

LT: You know, Rob, I've seen you in firefights not even break a sweat. I've seen you when the FOB was rocketed laughing as you put on your gear. I've seen you take control of situations that make me want to piss my pants and remain calm. Your wife calls and less than 30 seconds later you're in near meltdown. What gives?

G: Love, Sir. Love.

LT: I'm not sure whether to be grateful I'm single. Or wish I had that kind of love.

G: Be sad. Be very sad. Nothing completes you more than a wife.

::in walks Sgt. L, a buddy of Gary's:

Sgt. L: Man, I'd have told her to pack her shit and get out. C'mon now.

G: I'm having a home cooked meal, going home to a clean house and a wife. What are you having for dinner at the chow hall before going back to the barracks and sleep in a twin bed all alone?

Sgt. L: Fuck you. Why do you always gotta make a point?

** The computer issue was a total misunderstanding that was solved through the help of our friendly computer guy at Hank's. Though Gary totally understood where I was coming from. All is well for now here at the Robertson household. The conversations above were relayed to me by Sgt. L. **

Welcome Home ~ You Stink!!!

2007-08-30T07:42:00.000-05:00

Gary's home. Yippee. He got in Tuesday afternoon. Gunner was elated to see his daddy. I was too. I was not, however, elated to smell him. I guess after 11 days in the 114 degree heat with no shower isn't the best way to stay fresh and clean. I missed him, to be sure, but I honestly gagged (and not in the good way) when we were driving home. I had the a/c on high and the windows open. The man smelled ripe.

When we walked in the door, I made him strip. No, you pervs, not for the usual reason. I didn't want him to stink up the house. He stripped in the laundry room then went to shower. I had to light a candle, spray some air freshener and pray to the Gods of De-Stink before the odor of stinky infantryman wasn't wafting through the air.

Even after the shower, he still had a bit of an odor to him. Oh I didn't tell him this. I mean he did take a 20 minute shower. I'm positive he scrubbed. I just figure that kind of stench can't be cleansed in one session. I thought about adorning his body with some sort of air freshening devices, but decided against it.

I had planned on making him a steak, Alfredo and broccoli for dinner. Gunner, however, decided the best welcome home dinner for his daddy would be cereal. So, the boys sat down to heaping bowls of Wheaties. That meant one more night of no cooking for MOI!!!

Anyhoo, he's home now. My house isn't nearly as clean and neat as it has been the past two and a half weeks. The bed is harder to make in the morning due to me, a three year old and the daddy in it. I don't have the car at my disposal. My shower is not my own personal cleansing fountain. The sound of Madden 08 sometimes fills the air. The squeals of a three year old being chased by a Monster Daddy often startles me.

Yes, all is well for now in my world.

Welcome home Gary, I missed you oh so very much!!!

Taken in April... but still a picture of my darling one

Hurricane Scapegoat

2007-08-27T09:50:00.000-05:00

Hurricane Katrina. Some say it was a tragedy. Me? I say it was a Godsend for far too may Louisiana residents. The reason… now they have an EXCUSE for being the state with the worst statistics on a routine basis.

The Army sent us to Louisiana three years ago. Three long, hellish years. When I first arrived, I was in culture shock. Having grown up in New Mexico, the culture, the weather, everything was different. It was strange for me to go to stores and not hear Spanish being spoken. I had never in my life walked outside and had my sunglasses fog up due to humidity. It is safe to say that at first I simply didn’t like the weather. Soon, it grew to be oh so much more.

I am constantly amazed, though I suppose I should get used to it, when I am in a store and the cashier stops what they’re doing to talk to someone. Be it the customer they are checking out, a friend passing by, and the cashier at the next register. Anyone. They simply stop working and commencing chatting. At first I chalked it up to down-home friendliness. Now… not so much. I now chalk it up to pure rudeness. You’re there to work, not socialize. This is just one example of many I could come up with.

Then Hurricane Kat hit. TWO YEARS AGO! TWO YEARS, people. You built your city for the most part below sea level. Common sense stands to reason, it’s going to flood eventually. You knew the hurricane was coming. Yet oh so many didn’t want to leave their homes. Ok. Fine. Stay in your homes. But don’t then whine for years about how you were abandoned there. Did FEMA drop the ball, absolutely; however, so did the residents themselves.

It’s been two years. Two years of free rides for far too many people. When Colorado had a Category FIVE blizzard in December, I happened to be there. It was simply amazing. FEMA didn’t show up. Celebrities didn’t get on their bandwagon about how forgotten Colorado Springs was because it was full of a certain race of people. Instead, people knew that they lived in a state where blizzards could easily happen. We all stocked up on necessary items, prepared the best we could and sat in for the blizzard. Nearly a year later, you don’t hear about people still living in hotels at the government’s expense. As a matter of fact, you don’t hear about it at all. Go figure.

I could go on and on about how disgusted I am with Louisiana, but I won’t. Before I started this entry, I researched quite a few statistics such as criminal activity, illiteracy, welfare recipients, etc. I had to stop because even before good ole Kat hit, Louisiana was at the top of the bad lists, the bottom of the good.

My husband put it quite well. He’s lived quite a few places in his life. His father’s job had them move all over the US. Gary grew up near Indian Reservations, he’s lived in Korea, and he’s spent quite a bit of time in Afghanistan. He’s been around. After returning from Afghanistan he had an epiphany. The Afghanis are so used to their way of life they don’t know HOW to change. Not only that, they have no DESIRE to change. The elders in villages are fine with the way things are. Gary said Louisiana reminds him of Afghanistan on far too many levels. He has never lived in a place he detests more than this state.

I have tried, trust me, to find things I like. I have visited other cities. Shreveport is pretty decent. I visited Baton Rouge once. I only needed once to know I didn’t’ want to return. Maybe it’s the town in which I live. I don’t know. All I know am I tried to find things redeeming about Louisiana. So far, I’ve been unsuccessful.

Katrina was nothing more than a scapegoat for some of these people.

**DISCLAIMER: I am not saying all people from Louisiana are losers. Nor am I saying all people affected by Katrina have malingered. Just far too many. I simply do not like the state. It’s my opinion. I’m entitled.

As for those that say if I don’t like it, I can leave. I’d like nothing more. Trust me. I can’t considering my husband is in the Army and the Army sort of forces us to live where they deem it necessary. Until they release us from The Pelican State, I’m stuck here.**

I love my babies

2007-08-24T16:30:00.000-05:00

Gunner's expression is so great in this. He loves his Baby Maddy. Maddy, well let's just say she is cuter in person. LOL That girl is a chunk! So here they are: Uncle and baby niece. My beautiful granddaughter and her handsome uncle.

Since You've Been Gone....

2007-08-23T07:44:00.000-05:00

Gary's been in the "box" for two weeks now. I've missed him like crazy. I'm still uber upset over the Second Life incident, but that doesn't mean I haven't missed the man.

Usually I'm pretty pessimistic. It's part of my charm. The moody, dark side makes me mysterious -- or bitchy. You choose. In an attempt to be more cheery and little miss sunshine, I decided to make a list of things that are nice while he's gone:

*No cooking! I hate to cook. I can cook very well. I can eat even better. I just hate it. With Gary gone, I have cooked once. Gunner wanted eggs, so Gunner got eggs. Now, my son eats but he doesn't really like most foods. He would live off of carrots and cheese if I let him. His dinners have been eggs, cheese, carrots and a few Lunchables.

*No cooking = no dishes! I have ran the dishwasher ONCE in two weeks. ONCE. And it wasn't even full. I just wanted my coffee mugs cleaned.

*One less person = less laundry! Sure, I do laundry nearly daily, but mainly because Gunner likes the same pajamas over and over. Also, I have favorite clothes I want to wear. Not to mention Miss Maddy's clothes. That girl's a drool gland.

*Cleaner house! My husband's a slob. Plain and simple. I am forever cleaning up after him. He is truly worse than Gunner. With him gone, my floor is cleaner. My room is cleaner. I don't find computer magazines laying everywhere. I don't trip over Army gear. Ahhh it's nice.

*My bathroom is MY bathroom! This means that my poofy thing that I wash with stays on top when hanging in the shower. My toothbrush is the one sitting on the Sonicare thingee. My shower doesn't have gross Army-man crap in it after Gary's shower.

*My bed stays neater! I'm a wilder sleeper than he is, but without him in the bed, the bed stays neater. Not sure why, considering Gunner sleeps there too, but it does.

So, those are the groovy things about Gary being gone. I would absolutely, 100% gladly cook, clean up after him and do more laundry if he were home... but he's not so I am enjoying my little vacation from the drudge of housewifery.

Second Life/Second Time

2007-08-19T22:24:00.000-05:00

I sort of found something tonight similar to what happened last year when Gary was in Afghanistan. Of course I find this when he's out in the field and won't be home for a week. So, for the next 10 days I get to sit, cry and wonder about my life.

Second Life...Why would you need a virutal Second Life when you hardly live in your first life. Why am I not good enough?

DIY Bloggin

2007-08-17T07:08:00.000-05:00

I wish there were a home improvement show, so to speak, that would come and re-do my blog for me. Complete with a blogroll, snazzy pictures, topics, etc. blah blah blah. I want a snazzy blog. I can't even figure out how to insert a freaking website address. I've tried, it just didn't work. Sigh.

**I miss Gary. Only one week and five days left and he should be home. I hate that he's out in this heat training. 114 degrees, in full "battle rattle", rained on (which makes it even hotter when the sun comes out). I hate that Gunner misses Daddy so much he's naughtier than usual. I hate that I miss Gary so much I'm sadder than usual. In sum, I hate the Army life. I swear I thought I'd be a better Army wife than this**

I am WEIRD with money

2007-08-15T22:04:00.000-05:00

I don't give to charity. No real reason. Sometimes the Police Associate will call and if Gary answers, he'll make a pledge. I just hang up. I hate the phone though so.....

What I do though is odd. I'll give money to strangers. Seriously. Homeless dude on the corner gets $ from me. I figure even if he is going to drink it away, so what? My not giving it to him isn't going to make him dry up.

A few years back I gave $3500 to a girl from my pregnancy website. Never saw a dime of it back. Never really expected to.

Tonight I was reading blogs and came upon one of a couple trying to raise $1800 to remodel the bathroom to be wheelchair accessible. I found that admirable. So, I did what I'm prone to do, donated $20. I figure they seem on the up and up. Even if it's a scam, $20 isn't going to break my bank. Much..lol.

I figure that if I help out people when I can, it comes back to me. But more importantly, I'll admit it -- IT MAKES ME FEEL GOOD ABOUT ME!! I don't do it for thanks. Or accolades. I do it to feel better about myself. Is that so wrong?

Army Wifery

2007-08-02T14:40:00.000-05:00

I'm not a good Army Wife. I am not the tough-as-nails, never let 'em see you sweat girl. Far from it. If the sink backs up, or worse yet the toilet, I cry. Yeah, cry. Sob even. I call frantically anyone I can think of that might be able to plunge. God forbid the car break down. Mr. Goodwrench doesn't have enough hankies to dry those tears. Basically, anything hubby handles when he is here I'm clueless about. Sometimes on purpose.

I can't pack, move, unpack and be settled into a new home in a week's time. I don't know every single resource the military has for me and my Army Wife sisters.

I don't grin and bear it when my husband brings home news that he's deploying. I don't roll up my sleeves and declare cheerfully, "Why how lovely! Surely it is terrible that you're going to Iraq, but by gosh this gives me the opportunity to try some new cookie recipes to send you and the other lonely soldiers." No, I cry. I swear. I declare my hate for all things Army.

Long nights because of ranges? DAMMIT! Getting called in on weekends because another soldier got a DUI. FUCK! Not making it home for dinner yet again because your Company Commander decided at 5:00pm that he wanted to do an inspection? WHAT THE HELL IS HE THINKING?

Yeah. I'm far from a good Army Wife.

Good thing I give awesome blow jobs.

My Husband's Briefcase

2007-07-28T02:16:00.000-05:00

Some husbands carry a briefcase like this:

My husband's briefcase:

VOTE

2007-07-23T13:54:00.000-05:00

Go here www.miss-britt.com

JUST DO IT

I made a big decision

2007-07-21T19:39:00.000-05:00

I'm pretty sure I'll be pulling Gunner out of daycare full-time. I would still send him part-time for many reasons, but mainly because he loves his school. This will save us a few hundred a month.

I really think I'm ready. I know it is weird to a lot of people that my son goes to daycare full-time and I don't work. It really helped when I was so overweight. Sad, but true. More importantly, emotionally I just couldn't do it. My depression was so overwhelming. But now it's under control. I keep thinking "what if..." Well if it comes back then I'll just deal with it then.

I'm going to make a little schedule for us to follow daily. I will also take Gary to and from work a lot so we have a car. This way we can go to the park. I'll also find other things to do.

I have some more thinking to do, but I'm definitely leaning towards doing it after my sinus sugery.

Isn't this stealing?

2007-07-18T19:28:00.000-05:00

I read a blog today where a person -- why I do not know, never interacted with but just read her blog AND she seems like a pretty nifty person all in all -- anyway she basically let the credit card company give her a credit she was not due for $96. Every comment left for her seemed to applaud her for sticking it to the credit card company because after all THEY'RE sticking it to us, the consumer.

I disagree. In my opinion it's stealing. Plain and simple. If you saw someone drop $96 and you picked it up without returning it, would people applaud you? I don't think so.

As far as sticking it to the credit card companies.. well you have a choice: Have a credit card and all that goes along with it (good AND bad) or don't. No one is forced to have one. Even for online purchases you don't HAVE to have one. You can use your debit card.

This has really troubled me. Of course I'm not perfect at all. I do plenty of wrong things. Hmmm maybe stealing would be better than some of the things I do??

So Frustrated...

2007-07-18T11:50:00.003-05:00

My sister got pregnant last year with a man named Gordon. Amber was separated, sort of, from her husband of nearly 18 years. Paul, her hubby, was deployed to Iraq at the time. Gordon was married and "maybe" separated from his wife at the time. He had said they were separated for years, but truthfully she lived in Montana while he was stationed in Georgia. To this day, I have serious doubts they were separated.

So Amber gets pregnant. She and Gordon have the must fucked up relationship. They're on again, off again. I make no beans about the fact I don't like this man. I am polite about it to my sister but the fact is she has changed SO much since being with him. He is also very self-centered and selfish. The biggest thing really pissing me off right now is the fact that he won't put the baby on DEERS. That is what you have to register your dependents with for military personnel. Oh yeah, Gordon is a Chief Warrant Officer (3) in the Army. An OFFICER, folks.

Anyhoooo.... So Gordon is deployed now to Iraq. All he does is whine about how horrible it is. OK, I'm sure it is. But the fact is this man is a freaking POGUE. For those who don't know, this basically means he's a desk jockey. Yeah, yeah they're important. I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW. Seriously, I do. My husband, an infantryman, has respect for other jobs. He says that every MOS (job) is important in supporting others. I agree. HOWEVER, as a POGE (sometimes POG which translates as Position Other than Grunt), he really doesn't leave the FOB at all. He once told Amber that he was sooo stressed out as he had to leave the FOB.. wait for it... wait for it... ONCE A MONTH!! Yeah, that's right folks, once a month. And to top it off, one time he was thirsty for... and sit down before reading this as it will break your fucking heart... A WHOLE HOUR! Yeah, an hour. Why? He was on a well-guarded, heavily armed convoy from his FOB to Baghdad. The jackass forgot his canteen. Uhm ok. He whined to my sister for an hour about this. My sister looked at me in tears telling me of this horrid treatment her lovely man received. I try, really I do, I try... and I tried then.. but I couldn't help it. I said very sarcastically, "Wow, how did he manage? I mean once Gary was on a mission supposed to last a day but lasted three. They ran out of water, despite bringing extra. The medics had them drinking the IV solutions they use to hydrate heat casualties. Gary said it was disgusting. But wow, Gordon was thirsty for an hour?" Oh oh oh.. and one time, one time folks, Gordo was awoken in the MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT to fix a generator. Yes, you read that right. Again, cruelties, no? This man whines incessantly about his hardships. What the fuck ever!! He never misses the opportunity to tell my sister, in explicit detail, of a rocket landing in the FOB. Or if their FOB is mortared. WHAT?! What kind of soldier does that? Seriously, the soldiers I know and respect don't do this. They know it's part of being a soldier. Gary told me after returning from Afghanistan that numerous times he would be talking to me on the phone while they were being mortared. I never knew. He had learned to identify how close they were, etc.

Don't get me wrong. I do not expect every soldier to be as stoic as Gary. Gary is too stoic. But Gordon is just a loser in every sense of the word. He disgraces the uniform. He disgraces officers. He is a disgrace. He does not hold himself to a higher standard.

Now here is why I'm ranting. Gordon didn't tell his family that David was born... the child he and Amber had. Instead, his older brother did. AFTER David was here. Why were his parents not told? Because they're "good Christian folks" who would be offended by the fact their son knocked up another woman. Uhm.. yeah ok I'm not ever going to be described as a "good Christian folk" but yeah I was offended too... they both betrayed their spouses. His parents decided they would forgive and accept this. FORGIVE AND ACCEPT?!! This is a baby!!! Not a speeding ticket!!! This family has done nothing to support David financially, Gordon has minimally but that's another story. Today I get an email from my sister that she's rushing off to Charlotte, NC where her future father-in-law is on his death bed. She is so upset. So distraught. Uhm.. WHY? I'm not being callous (or maybe I am) but this is a man who (a) barely accepts you and your child; (b) spent the two weeks you were there in May comparing you to Gordon's ex-wife and (c) A man you DO NOT KNOW. I am very sad to hear this man is losing his life. I am. I just think my sister is secretly happy because there is a chance that if Gordon's father dies, Gordon can come home on emergency leave. Then I'll hear from here how awful it is with Gordon.

Oh and when I asked her to come here and visit me while Gary was at JRTC for three weeks in early August.. she couldn't. Why? She couldn't afford the trip. But she can afford a trip to see people she doesn't really know? doesn't really like? Good Christians who aren't offended that their son, the honorable hero doesn't have their GRANDCHILD enrolled in a program that gives him medical benefits??? My sister even went so far as to ask me if Gary and I would take guardianship of David ( the baby) so he could be Gary's dependent and be enrolled in DEERS!!! I told her yes, absolutely. However, David would need to come live with us. She balked, of course.

I'm done. It was rambling. It was disjointed. I swore. But dammit I'm SO FRUSTRATED with my sister and her choices. And the effects it has on my precious nephew

Cadaver Cost

2007-07-17T21:49:00.000-05:00

$5850.00

Mingle² - Free Online Dating

My Sleeping Beauties

2007-07-16T14:08:00.000-05:00

My babies:

From the book of "WHY DOES HE DO THAT?"

2007-07-15T12:31:00.001-05:00

My typical disclaimer: I LOVE MY HUSBAND. He just irks me at times. Now for the "Why Does He Do That" post:

* Why does he feel the need to tickle, poke, prod.. basically torture our son until he whines and/or cries. Sometimes he'll even add fuel to the fire by scolding him for fussing!

* Why must he do said torture directly on the couch in front of my desk. They have a whole room called Manland in which to cause chaos and mayhem. Must it be in my direct line of sight?

* When I suggest something to distract my son from something -- i.e. today I suggested sandwiches for lunch rather than ramen noodles as I did not want to cook -- WHY must he then suggest to our son to have the aforementioned noodles?? He doesn't mean to do it. But today I had enough of that sort of thing. I made him go make the noodles and scrapped the idea of making him the grilled ham and cheese sandwich he wanted. (Yes, I know a grilled sandwich is cooking, but I wanted to cook that. I detest cooking ramen noodles for reasons unknown).

I love my husband, but WHY must he do that?!

Testicles... no not "testicles" but TEST-Uh-Clees (Rhymes with Hercules)

2007-07-12T22:30:00.000-05:00

So... Gary has crotch rot. Sexy, yes? I swear I'm going to tell him it is due to lack of use. I'll tell him that those things rust and fall off without proper usage. Though I'll wait until said rot clears up.

I feel compelled to share that the man got it due to his arduous schedule of physical training (PTing) for the Army. Add that to the whole humidity factor here, the fact he was PTing in his uniform a few weeks ago for a few days (rather than in his comfy PT outfit) and it's a recipe for crotch rot.

Well today we had the following conversation:

G: It's getting worse.
L: Go to sick call, Honey.
G. Can't. Have school. I'll suck it up.
L: I have an idea. I'll take a picture of it and post it on the board for one of the nurses to figure out. Or you know, one of the other girls. They're smart women.
G: WHAT?
L: Sure, you know they want to see your crotch. Who doesn't?"
G: Somehow I thought my porn career would have a bit more of an auspicious beginning.

HA! So the girls offered a few solutions. This evening before bed he decided to apply the Lotrimin AF. Rather than coming out and asking where the ointment was, he bounds into the room exclaiming "Here I am!! Gary Rotten Crotch! I have been annointed!" I about died laughing. I get out the goop for him and leave him to his own devices. About 10 minutes later, he comes walking -- Charlie Chaplin style -- into the living room. WITHOUT ANY PANTS. I just kept reading blogs. This isn't sooo werid compared to many things he does. Then he says in a loud, booming voice...

"I AM TESTICLES. GOD OF ALL THINGS CROTCH. DO NOT CROSS ME HUMANS FOR I WILL SMITE THEE WITH MY BALLS OF FIRE."

That, my friends, is what I'm married to. I love that goofball... balls of fire or not.

I'm Officially Depressed

2007-07-08T17:37:00.000-05:00

Yeah ok the doctor's diagnosed me and all but today I just realized how very serious it is. I don't feel like watching Big Brother.

Weight Loss Update

2007-07-07T06:40:00.000-05:00

I am down to 223!!! Ok, I'll say 225 because of weight fluxuation. I haven't weighed this much since I was 21 or 22. Can you believe that?! I can't. I have focused this week on my eating. I thought I'd start with exercise first, but for some reason my eating's been easier to focus on. That's fine. That's what I need to overhaul anyway. I still have bad habits, but before I pop something into my mouth, I think about it. I've also been chewing a lot of gum. I'm so psyched.

This makes it a full 165 pounds lost!!!

Cool

2007-07-01T18:18:00.001-05:00

I have always wanted to be "cool." Not "Fonzie" cool but more like eccentric cool. I don't drink wine. I don't go to poetry readings. I don't even particularly like poetry -- though I write it. Odd, yes? Sure, but no one knows this little quirk so it's nothing that actually makes me "cool." I want to like documentaries. I really do. I want to read obscure novels. Watch independent films. Read the old literary geniuses of Tolstoy, etc. I have the capability to do all of this. What I don't have is the follow through. The dedication. The oomph. Rather, I read CNN all day. I watch "The Deadliest Catch" over and over. I could probably be a crab fisherman at this rate. I drink Dt. Dr. Pepper by the case, augmented by water on occasion. I'm not terribly witty -- though at times I do have strokes of genius. Sometimes I want to blame Gary... but the truth is it's not as if he STOPS me from doing any of the "cool" things. It's just I don't want to be cool alone. Don't cool people have entourages? Fellow cool folks with whom they discuss random films, books, essays and the like? I can't do that. That would require me actually mingling with people. Something I just do not do. I don't even mingle online. When the March Mamas have a chat, I rarely attend. I love all-- ok most -- of them, but I get nervous in a chat room with them all. That's an entire other post though. Anyway, I'll never be as cool as I want to be. Art museums would bore me. Wine tastings would give me a headache. Indie movies are interesting, but I just can't sit through a two hour movie where I need to pay attention to every line, every nuance in order to get the movie. I'm doomed to be boring. I keep typing hoping I'll find a cool way to end this post. I can't.

WHY DOES HE DO THAT?!

2007-06-30T18:49:00.000-05:00

I hate the sound of mastication. That's right, I broke out the big words for this entry.

Main Entry: mas·ti·cate
Function: verb
Pronunciation: 'mas-t&-"kAt
Inflected Form(s): -cat·ed ; -cat·ing
Etymology: Late Latin masticatus, past participle of masticare, from Greek mastichan to gnash the teeth; akin to Greek masasthai to chew -- more at MANDIBLE
transitive senses
1 : to grind or crush (food) with or as if with the teeth in preparation for swallowing : CHEW

Ok.. so I hate the sound of chewing. Any chewing. Even chewing with your mouth closed does not necessarily drown out the sound of mastication. Gary's a particularly loud chewer. Even with his mouth closed. Though he has a gross habit of opening his mouth from time to time as he is chewing. His table manners are fairly good, but could definitely use some polishing. I'm rather anal about table manners.

I'm nervous by nature (see my post below). Then add to the fact I'm PMSing (see below), I'm switching meds and just the fact that I'm a bitch by nature and the following situation about made me come unglued:

I'm working on getting the house cleaned. We are going out of town for two days on Monday. I haven't had the gumption to clean for a few weeks. The house is by no means disgusting, but it needs a good cleaning. Gary is not helpful in cleaning. Mainly because I have to really watch what he does and double-check to make sure he does it right. I don't like how he cleans. So, it's easier to do it myself. No problem. The problem arose when I'm busily trying to Swiffer the dining area. Have I mentioned how I hate the gross tile on my floor? Think about the cheapest, ugliest tile the government could obtain, and that's what I have. There I am, Swiffering my little heart out, and Gary comes out to tell me all about his video game. I show the appropriate amount of interest as I continue to clean. He follows me around (something he knows I hate, not to mention I'm cleaning an area roughly 6 feet by 10 feet, I do not need him to follow me). As he's following me, he's eating from a bowl of popcorn. POPCORN. Could there be a louder food? Possibly, but not one that Gary eats. As he follows me, he's eating his popcorn. I tell him it'd be helpful if he would stand in the doorway between the hall and the front of my house. He does, AND PICKS UP THE PACE AND INTENSITY OF HIS POPCORN MASTICATION. Finally, I tell him to please go eat his popcorn in the office. He gets hurt and says "I'll just put it up." GOD. Why do you make me feel like an ass? He knows how I feel about chewing. I seriously do everything I can to avoid sitting by him when we eat. I know that sounds mean, but he doesn't know I do this. I don't rag him about his manners. I try to not say mean things. But eating popcorn and following me as you chew when you KNOW that following me gets on my nerves and eating popcorn is a no-no. UGH UGH UGH. THEN, THEN, he goes skulking back to give Gunner a bath before Gary leaves to go see the premier of "The Transformers." I don't mind that he's going out with out me. It's a movie I have absolutely no interest in seeing. I don't mind that I'll be left alone with Gunner. I just mind that he puts everything off. EVERYTHING. Oh and then, THEN, when he gets home, I'll have to hear about the movie that I have no interest in seeing. I'll feign interest. I'll even ask follow up questions. I won't, however, allow him ti eat any fucking popcorn.

I do love my husband. Really I do. But must he eat? :)

Stuff

2007-06-30T12:02:00.001-05:00

I am so jittery lately. The doctor took me off Klonopin and put me on Seroquel. The Seroquel is a VERY low dose. The dosage for people using it as a mood stabilizer is usually upwards of 990 mg he said. I take 25 mg for my anxiety. It does take care of my anxiety, BUT it leaves me all jittery. Which makes me annoyed/irritated/bitchy. Add that to the fact I have my period approaching and frankly.. IT'S JUST NO DAMN FUN.

I've been eating like there's no tomorrow. Today I ate three pieces of sourdough bread. My stomach should NOT hold that much. It's because of all the damn Dt. Dr. Pepper I drink. I need to stop that. I have decided I'm going to focus on exercising. Then on adding more water -- which will make it impossible to drink as much Dt. Dr. Pepper -- THEN in reducing my food intake.

Gary assures me that every month at this time of month I am SURE I'm gaining weight. My weight fluctuates between 228 and 233. I hate that. Ok 234. LOL

The one fat-free, sugar-free food I can eat is licorice.. but it makes me ridiculously gassy... Yeah TMI but true.

Racism

2007-06-28T06:25:00.000-05:00

Vivica Fox was arrested for DUI. During this, she was racial. Here is a news link: http://22.tmz.com/2007/06/27/vivica-a-gets-racial/. Now, why is it this was not front page news like when Mel Gibson went on a rampage against Jews. Or if a white celebrity was racial against Blacks or Hispanics. Because rarely do people admit it's RACISM if a Black person says something wrong. I do not understand this. I try hard to keep any racist views I have to myself. Do I have them? Of course. Who doesn't. Honestly, we're all human. It would be near impossible to not have some racial views. This just really irked me.

My Shoulder...

2007-06-27T07:54:00.000-05:00

I hurt my shoulder/neck/back. I don't even know how to explain it. I do know it HURTS. I can't take Motrin or any other NSAIDs because of my surgery. I do have some Flexiril (muscle relaxer). It doesn't do much, if anything. Tylenol does very little. The best thing has been a hot shower, but how many hot showers can a person take? I'm using a heating pad, but it's a STUPID one. It shuts off every 15 freaking minutes!! UGH!! To top it off, Gunner peed in my bed again. This time right smack in the middle of the bed. On my quilt and comforter. Gary's doing the laundry for me since it really hurts to even move much. If I'm not feeling better by Friday, I guess I'll go to the stupid doctor. I don't know what they could possibly do.

I've hurt this same area before. It flares up from time to time. I guess maybe it's a pinched nerve? Well hell I don't know. I do know it hurts.

Yeah this was a boring post..lol.

Weird Things that Bug Me

2007-06-24T17:17:00.001-05:00

* Cities named after states. Like Texas City, Texas. WHAT? That's stupid.

* The phrase "gone missing." You can't GO missing.

* The sound of people chewing. Even with their mouths closed.

* Poor grammar.

* Bobble heads. They remind me of newborns with freakishly grown up faces.

* Babies and toddlers that don't smell good. Children should always smell fresh.

* Black eyeliner

Hypocrites Editted

2007-06-22T21:53:00.000-05:00

I don't understand them. I don't really care for them.

EDIT:

I have received a few IM's, emails and text messages asking me who I'm referring to and if I'm referring to them. I guess my answer to those of you who haven't received an answer would be this:

If you have to ask, are you feeling guilty? Is there something you feel you're hypoctrical about?

And yes, there was one particular person this was directed towards; however, it made me think too about a few things and it brought some light to my own eyes. Wow that was dramatic... lol.

I'm not perfect. I try not to judge, though I do. The fact is no one IS perfect. Judging is wrong, unless you're on a jury and asked to judge.

THERE'S HOPE

2007-06-21T18:50:00.001-05:00

I met with the head of the Behavioral Health Department here at the post hospital. He was awesome. He didn't change my medication... yet. He is going to be taking me off of Klonopin eventually but he didn't take away what I have. The medication is addicting. I'm not addicted yet.. keyword: YET. He gave me a new medication called Seroquel. It is in a SUPER small dose. He said it has the anti-anxiety effect I need, w/out the addicting quality. This is a GOOD thing. What I liked about him the most was that he focused more on my emotional well-being and not my medication. Here are some of the major points of the appointment:

* I am NOT bi-polar.

* I am diagnosed as having a Borderline Personality. This condition is more a result of things that happened to me as a child as opposed to a biological thing. That was a big relief to me for some reason.

* Dr. S is funny and honest. He is down-to-Earth and caring.

* My cutting, bulimia and other acting out (something I haven't posted about here because I refuse to be judged) are all "normal" for my condition. This is not an excuse, he said, but it is "normal." He said I need to move past the guilt and move towards getting better.

* The course of treatment my prior therapist was using was not what is good for someone with Borderline Personality. He said that Cognitive Behavior Therapy is not effective for Borderline people. I felt much better about that.

* The BEST thing: I CAN AND WILL GET BETTER. It's a long, hard road, but it does end.

I'll see him once a month. He gave me his direct line and email (he does that for everyone). He said if I'm in crisis, he IS available. I am very grateful to Dr. Baruti for getting me the help I need.

Two Weeks And Some Odd Hours Later

2007-06-20T14:06:00.000-05:00

Still no call. I know those of you who are reading this are probably thinking, "Well call the doctor, he gave you his cell for a reason." Yes, I know. It is near impossible for me to reach out for help. By even telling him about what was going on two weeks ago, I was proud of myself. Then calling him on Friday on his cell phone was huge for me. I called the nurse yesterday. EVERYDAY I hope for something. I do try to help myself. I have honestly tried. And I'm still trying. I just told Gary about how desolate I feel. He responded, "I'd call Dr. Baruti." I told him basically the same thing I just said. About how hard it is for me to do that. He just nodded and now he's over there reading his computer gaming magazine. I guess I'm hurt, angry, pissed.. whatever.. that he hasn't been more concerned. That just now he didn't say, "What's the number? I'll call him myself." I'm his WIFE. If I had cancer, he'd fight harder to get me the help I need if I coudln't help myself, right? Why doesn't the world take mental illness the same way?

Yesterday at Walmart I bought a package of utility knife blade refills. Basically really big razor blades. I have never bought something with the soul purpose of hurting myself.

I know something is seriously wrong w/me. I need help and I'm trying so hard to get it. I don't know what to do. If I got to the ER, trust me, that won't work around here. A part of me is thinking of just going up to the hospital and going to sit at the clinic until I actually see Dr. Baruti. Instead I just called the nurse hotline and left a message for the same nurse I talked to yesterday. Maybe she'll have some news for me?

**About 15 minutes after posting this, Dr. Baruti called me. I am to walk in to morrow to Behavioral Health and I'll be meeting w/Dr. Struthers. I am nervous but relieved something's happening**

Two Weeks Later

2007-06-20T12:53:00.000-05:00

Dr. B has still not done what he said. No one has called back. I'm TRYING my hardest to hold on here. I am frustrated and depressed beyond belief. I wish Gary would help me with this. He won't though.

Me, my life and stressors

2007-06-19T09:37:00.001-05:00

I am so stressed lately and trying not to be. Here are my stressors:

* Vicky and Drew -- They both are not working again. I know they're going to come begging for money soon for electricity and I'll have to say no. Their electricity will be cut off and I'll feel like a shitty mom. Even though they both could find a job. Drew was offered a job making $7/hour but he said he was worth more. Well, frankly, if you don't have a job you're NOT worth more because you're not making anything. I'll feel so crappy when I have to tell them no. But I have to show them they're parents now and they have a BABY to support.

* My marriage:

* Still no intimacy. No signs of it in the future.
* I wanted to go to the Battalion ball. Gary reluctantly agreed. I decided not to go because he would just be a stick in the mud. Not on purpose, but if he isn't doing what he wants to do, he's not as fun. I have never been to a prom, formal, anything. I wanted to go to this and have an excuse to dress pretty.
* I don't know if I want my marriage any more.

* Finances: We're doing ok. But not as well as I'd like. I have been spending too much in a manic phase.

* My health: I have to have sinus surgery. My bulimia is getting to me again. I have to lose 50 more pounds and am not motivated at all.

* My mental health: I have been trying for two weeks to get something straightened out in regards to this and it's not progressing as I had hoped. I keep holding out hope that Dr. Baruti will come through. I trust this man and think he's an awesome doctor. I just know he's busy. I did call the nurse line just now and talked to Beth -- a super nice advice nurse. She said she'd go talk to Dr. B about the ongoing situation.

* The Army. Enough said.

* My own actions and lack thereof-- I have done things lately I'm ashamed of and feel disgusted about. I am trying to be a better person. I wake up shaking and exhausted from depression. I'm trying so hard. I know that I have made it this far because God wants me to be happy.

* I want to cut myself. I haven't in a week. I'm sick of watching what I wear so my arms don't show the cuts. I just want to be normal -- or a close facsimile there of.

* I have so little emotional energy I read my Board and I try so hard to respond to the girls. They always respond to my posts. I just can't seem to get myself to do it. Does that make sense? I hope that they realize it's not that I don't love them. Because I do.

Operation Icee... AKA My 40 Days of Difference

2007-06-13T18:56:00.000-05:00

Today starts Day One in my "40 Days of Things." I'll probably rename that but for now that's it. I have decided for 40 days to do something everyday that I wouldn't normally do. Small or big. Today I emailed a friend I loved and told her why. Then I took eight icees and bunch of ice/water to Gary at the EIB site (training site) where it's scorching. I told him to give them to random soldiers.

I was feeling hopeful.. now not so much

2007-06-08T16:33:00.000-05:00

The other day I saw my doctor. My primary care doctor. He said he would get me referred to the mental health clinic in the local hospital (BJAHC). He said within a week I'd have an appointment. He even gave me his personal cell #. I felt like there was some relief in sight. But I haven't heard anything yet and I'm afraid to call.

Gary's been told that all NCO's are required to go to the Battalion ball. At first I was excited. Now not so much. No matter what dress I find, I'll still look fat. My hair won't look nice. I'll still just be ugly.

No this is not a way to get compliments. It's how I feel. I feel hopeless again. I know Dr. Baruti will do what he said... but what if he doesn't.

My Morning Alone

2007-05-31T06:16:00.001-05:00

This morning I had the morning all to myself! Last night when I realized this I was downright giddy. I pictured waking up for 10 minutes, getting the boys out the door then sleeping until... oh I don't know when. I do know whatever time I had envisioned in my fantasy included it being fully light outside. In my head danced delightful scenarios such as drinking coffee while it was hot rather than lukewarm since I wouldn't have to answer to pleas such as "Mommy, can I have Cheerios in a bowl like a puppy?" While I drank my hot coffee, I'd watch the news or some other mind-stimulating television. Oh no, there'd be no "Jo Jo's Circus," "Doodlebops," "Little Einsteins." I'd watch something that had no cutesy songs, nothing would be animated. All mind-stimulating, thought-provoking programming. Maybe I'd lounge on the couch and read a book that contained no pictures. Indeed, a very adult morning was planned. Then reality set came knocking.

After getting Gary and Gunner out the door, it wasn't even six. My body laughed at the thought of going back to bed. On to the hot coffee. Funny how it burns your tongue when it's not lukewarm. TV? Did you know that on cable-- the cable you pay for already -- most channels are paid programming this early in the morning? The thought provoking news shows are boring at best, downright depressing at times. Books. Oh many, but my mind is so used to reading a book in one sitting under 15 minutes that my mind started to wander... when would the dragon come into play? Where were the talking animals? Where, I ask, were the stories of morality cleverly hidden in child language? So it was a no go for reading.

The house is too quiet. The Cheerios sit in their box, safe from the hunger of a three year old boy-puppy-lion. But I have achieved a certain modicum of normality, my coffee has cooled down (ice cubes help that) and my background noise right now is something I'm very familiar with -- The Wiggles!

Tomorrow will be back to normal and I'm sure I'll look back on today and wonder what the heck I was thinking... but for now, I feel like all is right with the world... almost. It seems that any minute I should hear that little voice singing along with The Wiggles, asking for milk, whining about some perceived injustice in his little world.

For now, I'll just drink my coffee and watch Dorothy the Dinosaur do her signature dance. Heck, I might even join her.

Losing it

2007-05-29T09:06:00.000-05:00

No, not my weight. My mind. It's getting to the point again where I was about this time last year where I feel on the verge of a nervous breakdown. What do I do? My counselor's answer to everything is to be more social. How can I be social when all I want to do is cry and scream in everyone's face that they SUCK? My psychiatrist, the one who is supposed to monitor my meds, doesn't. He spends 10 minutes with me, ignores what I say(seriously) then writes the same RX for me as he did the last visit.

What the fuck am I going to do??????? Where do I turn for help? Prayer? Oh trust me, I am. I think sometimes of stabbing myself really hard in the leg so that I have to go to the ER and then maybe someone will take me seriously. That CAN'T be healthy. I know it's not healthy.

What does one do when they know they're on the verge of losing it again and they can't find it.. and don't know where to turn for the help... because everywhere you've turned so far has been like running into walls?

I need a miracle. A small little miracle. Please God. Something to make it better for a while.

A few more pics of Maddy

2007-05-26T12:52:00.001-05:00

I have had the WORST time logging onto Blogger. I hate the new system. But here are some pics of Maddy! And a few of Gunner too

Sisters, daughters and granddaughters!

2007-05-14T22:03:00.000-05:00

How have I been... well let me tell ya!

* I left on May 4 to go help my sister in GA. She just had a c-section and a tubal ligation. My mom was there and I thought we'd have a nice time -- the three of us. How can I forget so quickly that my mom and I are like oil and water. Or more like gasoline and a lighter. By Sunday we were at each other's throat. It all came down to a huge argument about whether or not my brother had a right to his opinion on my sister's situation. For those that don't know, she just gave birth to a baby from a man other than her now-ex-husband. The baby's father is a married man -- in the midst of a divorce. My brother feels it's a farce and this love match won't work. I agree. I told my mom that Mac had every right to his opinion and my mom got snotty and bitchy -- as she always does. It ended with me almost leaving early. I ended up staying. The argument ultimately ended when I went to another room, cried on the phone to Gary for an hour. I came out and said to my mom, "We are toxic together. From now on our time together will be limited. I won't apologize for my actions and I don't expect one from you." That actually cleared the air quite a bit.

* While taking care of my sister... WOW it was crazy. The baby won't sleep w/out being held. << David Allen @ two weeks old.

* Now for the BIG news. And I do mean BIG. On Monday I was driving my mom to the airport in Jacksonville, FL from Valdosta, GA. That was May 7. It was me, Mom, sis, baby and my neice. I was driving. My mom's phone rang and it was Drew, Vicky's fiance. He asked to talk to me. He sounded very dazed and out of it. Here is the conversation..

D: Is your phone on?
ME: Yeah, but in my purse.
D: Well, remember how yesterday Vicky had cramps?
ME: Yeah.
D: She's nine months pregnant and 5 cm dialated.
ME: OH MY GOD. ARE YOU KIDDING?
D: I wish I was.

I nearly missed the exit to drop Mom off. My mom, of course, tried to turn it all over to her. She started crying about how she was going to be a great-grandmother. Blah, blah, blah. Never mind she didn't offer to stay w/my sister so that I could go home to MY baby. Long story short, Vicky had been on the shot since August. She never had a lapse in birth control. Apparently the baby was meant to be!!! Vicky got pregnant in the first week of August. By the time she gave birth she was 42 weeks pregnant. She ended up having a c-section. The baby, my darling, beautiful grandbaby is MADELIN JEAN. 9oz 3oz. I LOVE HER!!

I was finally able to get home last night. I've spent the day w/Maddy. She's beautiful.

<< MADELIN JEAN at a few hours old. I have tons more pictures, just none uploaded.

Random

2007-04-19T14:15:00.000-05:00

* Went to TX for a few days. Had a great time. Met Angel from the board. She is awesome.

* I met a guy in real life that I had been talking to online. He's home on R&R from Iraq. Same age as me. He's married. I'm married. He's black. I'm white. We met at the park. Our kids played. We flirted. That's as far as it went. No touching. I don't want it to go any further. I know it was wrong .. .but it felt so fucking GOOD to catch a man looking at me and smile then mouth the words "I want you." I don't plan on meeting him again.

* Gary has been home from training nearly a month. We haven't even french kissed. Let alone had sex. We haven't had that since November/December.

* I can't/won't do this anymore. He wants another child. I bluntly said to him, "To get one of those, we have to fuck." Yeah, I was crude, but dammit I'm tired of this sexless shit.

Don't bother leaving me judgmental messages. It's my Blog. I'll say what I want.

Army Stupid

2007-04-05T10:39:00.000-05:00

I hate Gary's unit. I have no idea where the breakdown begins, but I do know where it ends -- with Gary being screwed over. I'm not saying he's Super Soldier who never makes mistakes, but he's a damn good soldier with no negative counseling statements in over seven years in the Army. Since arriving in this unit, his moral has plummeted. It's not just him, there are career soldiers with only a few years left to retirement refusing to re-enlist because of the leadership! Doesn't anyone see what's going on and care??? No, they sure as hell don't.

First, there's his Platoon Sgt. I shall refer to him as McJackass. He has known Gary for the entire three years we have been here. They were in D. Co. together. Gary and McJackass were two of three soldier who attended a class together at Ft. Benning two years ago. McJackass knows Gary's work ethic. They got along very well in D. Co. Then Gary's moved to A. Co. and soon McJackass is too and given a platoon -- Gary's platoon. He has decided that no one is getting promoted for 90 days until he gets to know them. HE'S KNOWN GARY FOR THREE FREAKING YEARS. He is surly, rude and hateful. He gave a speech to his platoon the other day that went something like this: I have no use for you fuck ups. If all of you go on leave and don't come back, that'd be great! I don't care if you go tell the First Sergeant or CO. What's going to happen? All they'll do is tell me I can't be a platoon sergeant. Big fucking deal.

WHAT?! Then he wonders why morale is so low! The CO's head is so far up his own ass he has no clue what's going on in his company. The first sergeant is seriously bipolar, I swear. Some days he acts like a nice guy, other days he acts like he's never met you. It's weird.

When Gary re-enlsited over in Afghanistan one of the perks was that he got to go to school for six months. He's had to fight really hard to get the six WEEKS he has right now. McJackass has recommended all the way up to the Battalion Commander not to approve it. If it had not been for the Command Sgt. Major -- who happens to really like Gary -- it wouldn't have been approved!!! CSM M. knows Gary and basically told the Battalion Commander to approve it because he could personally vouch for Gary. HOW CAN IT BE DENIED?! It's in Gary's contract!!! UGH. Since then McJackass is even more hateful to Gary. He even said, "How come CSM M. likes you so much? Give him a hand job?"

Oh and now let me rant about promotions... and Gary's lack thereof. He's been an E5 for six years. This is ridiculous in the infantry world. Especially considering he made rank fast for even the infantry world. He had to receive time-in-service waivers for each promotion. He made it to E5 in 18 months in the Army. He has graduated every class with honors. He has no negative counseling statements. He was chosen to do the colors when the new brigade stood up (hard to translate to civilian terms). The reason he hasn't been promoted is basically he's been moved around so much. Even CSM M. told him this in Afghanistan. Oh yeah and he needs to improve his running. Sure, he passes all PT tests, but dang it, if you can't run like a track star, apparently you shouldn't be promoted. YET.. let me tell you about the people who HAVE received promotions...

SFC. B. .... Was sent home from the Qualifying Course for Special Forces for "attitude problems." During a rotation of a field problem, while acting-platoon sergeant, Sgt. R. approved of a plan on a live fire range that would have LIVE people down range. Subsequently, a soldier was killed. YES KILLED. The Army, in all of its wisdom, promotes this man. Job well done! Kill a soldier -- get a promotion.

Sgt. Miller ... Was relieved of a special duty assignment -- recruiter -- for violating rules. Lost rank from E5 to E4. Came to Ft. Polk. Failed the E5 board (remember he had been an E5 before, how do you fail it?!). Goes to Ranger School.. fails the physical training test. Gets sent back to Polk. Counseled twice for negative attitude. Makes it through as an E5 (oh did I mention that Gary was his sponsor for his E5 board. Was his squad leader and took special care to make sure Miller was trained properly before the second board??). While in Afghanistan, Gary is moved to another company so that Sgt. Miller can have time as a squad leader. Basically, he takes over Gary's truck and the following truck. On a mission, Sgt. Miller, arrogant SOB that he is, disregards safety rules and leaves the back hatch of the Humvee open while on patrol. As a result of an IED two of the three soldiers in his truck are injured (but not Miller, OF COURSE). One is burned severely. The other, a budding musician, loses use of his right hand due to nerve damage (damage which is made worse by later reports by Miller claiming this particluar soldier is FAKING it... only to find out he wasn't.). A soldier in the truck behind them received head wounds bad enough to have him evacuated to Germany. Gary is told by his old soldiers how they can't stand Sgt. Miller because he plays favorites and is clueless. How does the Army reward this man? A BRONZE STAR for acting with valor!! Why? Because he got them out of the situation alive. Let's overlook the fact that his actions got two soldiers severely wounded. Or that he was counseled for leaving the back hatch open. The fucker gets a BRONZE STAR. Oh and guess who is going to the E6 board soon?!?!

Basically if Gary wants a promotion he needs to either kill a soldier or get him wounded and he's got it made. Army strong? Hardly. ARMY STUPID. Hooah.

Back off!!!!

2007-04-02T06:58:00.000-05:00

What the hell? There is a girl on my board who is very sweet. It seems that very often when she posts anything other than a strict fact -- like what her child did -- she is blasted. I asked a few other friends on the board if they noticed it and they did. WHY? This girl is probably one of the most genuine people I've ever encountered. I wouldn't call her a friend, per se, because honestly she and I have little in common other than the fact we both have three year olds. That doesn't mean I can't see how true and genuine she is. In the over three years I've known her, I've never seen her be harsh to anyone. I've never seen her swear -- oh wait once she said biotch (and I laughed my ass off because it was so cute to see the "rebel" in her come out). Is she perfect, nope. But who is?

She is also one of the few people I know who is what most would term "religious" and isn't hypocritical. So many people are such hypcrites when it comes to religion. She doesn't seem to be, unless she's been pulling the wool over everyone's eyes for three years. She lives her life according to her faith. I admire that more than someone who has a million dollar bank account.

Anyway, I get so irritated when I see her attacked. Now, most who read my blog are on my board and will know who I'm talking about. You might even think "how was she attacked?" But if you stop and think about what a gentle soul she is, you have to realize that some things said to her in certain ways will hurt her feelings more than some. I try to tailor my posts to the person I am talking to. We do that everyday in life -- tailor our actions to who we are dealing with. Some girls on the board I can call a bitch jokingly and that's just that.. a joke. I'd NEVER do that to this girl because it would seem wrong on many levels.

I guess I'm rambling at this point. The fact is I see it often -- the girl getting slammed (sometimes subtly) for having a mild opinion. It pisses me off. She has been told before that she's a push over, but then people walk all over her. UGH.

Dreams

2007-03-25T09:20:00.000-05:00

I had a very odd dream last night. I woke up thinking about it. In my dream I was a medical student and I was going to deliver a baby. I had never done it before. As far as I can remember, I hadn't had any training at all. I was just a random medical student. The woman I was going to deliver the baby for was having problems, but not severe ... and there was a woman doctor there to help me. I was very hesitant to put on the gloves and do the internal exam, but I did and I felt the head of the baby. Then for whatever reason the doctor supervising me said something about the woman having issues. I remember the doctor leaving the room and I was trying to keep my patient calm. I took her blood pressure and it was 180/55. Other non-essential details of the dream occurred but then the doctor came back in, I did another internal exam and the patient gave birth to a new baby girl.

So I was getting some coffee and all of a sudden the meaning of the dream came to me!!! There is the school of thought that everyone/thing in your dream represents you. In my dream I was the doctor guiding me to delivering the new baby. I was actually the "me" delivering the baby as well as the patient giving birth. Interestingly, there was another person in my dream who was there but very much in the peripheral I'll call that person ME rather than me. The 180/55 blood pressure is easy to figure out... 180 = the weight I want to get to. The 55 is the number of pounds I am away from hitting that goal. The doctor me was guiding the "old" me to deliver the baby girl -- the me I'll be when I'm done losing weight. The new baby girl ... well that's obvious. Interestingly, the ME ... the person who was in the shadows but very much a presence is the ME I'm working towards.

The dream signifies my life right now.. struggling to let go of the extra physical weight and giving birth to a new Lin. I am at a crossroads right now. I don't have to make the decisions yet but do I stay in my marriage, or do I leave. Do I work, or stay at home. Things like that.

Oh and one more interesting note -- the baby's cord was wrapped around her neck.. but the cord was very thin and transparent. It wasn't anything serious. It's as if I am telling myself that whatever I feel "choking" me isn't as thick as an umbilical cord. That my life (which is what the umbilical cord is to a baby) isn't as strangling as I think it is ....

Interesting. Very interesting.

The song that breaks my heart.

2007-03-23T14:39:00.000-05:00

Lyrics: http://www.cowboylyrics.com/lyrics/urban-keith/stupid-boy-18548.html

Song: http://www.myspace.com/keithurban "Stupid Boy"

This song reminds me of my marriage. How I wish Gary could hear this song and realize this is how I wish he'd feel.. wake up and realize it.

I remember when I loved him so much it hurt -- the good hurt. The sweet hurt like taking a bite of chocolate and it's so very good, so very sweet it makes your taste buds ache deliciously. I loved him like that once.

This always comes to mind when I remember the achingly good love... when we had been together for about two months he had to go to the field. He lived in North Carolina, I in New Mexico. I happened to find out that the weather this one night in NC was going to be 20 degrees. Gary hates the cold with a passion. I knew he'd be sleeping outside in a sleeping bag on rocks. I remember laying in bed that night, looking out my bedroom window at the moon. I looked at the moon and I willed the warmth from my warm, cozy bed to the moon aching for the moon to then beam that warmth and comfort to Gary. I remember crying that night out of sadness that the man I loved more than life itself was cold while I was warm. Thinking that I'd freeze for the rest of my life to make him warm if only for an hour. And truly believing that.

I want that kind of love again. I think it's too late with him.

Ever Have Those Days..

2007-03-13T15:47:00.000-05:00

When everything just gets you. Today is one of them. I'm tired from being sick. Gunner's in rare form (being naughty). I feel overwhelmed and the truth is there is nothing really overwhelming going on in my life other than Gary being gone. Today I walked out into my kitchen and saw three dishes in the sink, realized I needed to put the clean dishes away and burst out in tears thinking how much I had to do. Ridiculous. It doesn't help that good ole Aunt Flow is here and she is here full-force. I'll be surprised if I'm not anemic after this...lol.

Venting

2007-03-12T00:30:00.000-05:00

* It seems when Gary is out in the field, Gunner gets some kind of stomach flu. Today's is worse than usual. He's thrown up six times in five hours. Nothing he eats or drinks stays down.

* I got an anonymous email from a Yahoo account telling me that my "postiness" on the board I frequent was stupid. That I was being a hypocrite because I had accused Tara of only posting when she was bored or something. Lately I've posted more because Gary's gone. I have a few ideas of who might've sent it, but no real proof. It hurts, but oh well.

* I have sucked at losing weight. I have gained 2lbs. I need to really get on the wagon. Being able to eat more is really tough. It was easier when I had few to no choices. Technically, my surgery is a success as I have lost over 50% of my excess weight.

* I am sick. I have a cold/flu thing. I'm going to go to the doctor tomorrow. Vicky will help me with Gunner as I'm going to try to get him in too. I would wait it out a few more days for myself but I'm just run down and feel like CRAP.

* My counselor just isn't cutting it for me. She's using "cognitive therapy" and I'm not really feeling it. I feel like her answers or suggestions are never that... it's hard to explain. I need to talk to her about it. And about why I'm supposed to see her weekly but end up seeing her every six week. Again, I feel as if my care -- mental health wise -- is being overlooked.

* I am sick of the Army and those in charge. I can't believe that a General or Colonel or whoever makes the decisions has forgotten what it was like to be in touch w/the troops themselves. Didn't most, if not all, start out as 1LT and work their way up. How can you forget from where you come. I have a friend, Oliver, who I just don't think would ever do that. PLEASE OLIVER, DON'T DO THAT. :)

* I haven't had the nerve to tell Gayla she hurt my feelings during Christmas. She even asked if I was mad at her and I said no. I have to let her know what's going on and why.

* I've been so tired lately. I am going to the doctor's this week anyway and I'm going to ask him to run some blood work on my sugar levels. Just to double-check on the diabetes. They were cured after the surgery, but Dr. B. told me they could come back.

* I miss Gary. I am lonely. I'm even lonely when he's here. But at least if he were here, he could help w/Gunner.

* I hate Ft. Polk and so many people are getting out of here and we're stuck here. I keep telling Gary there's a reason that God just hasn't shown us. I may not be a church goer, but I do believe God has good things in store for my family.

* Just got back from the ER. They gave us both good drugs.

Just a little update

2007-03-01T19:57:00.000-06:00

I had a counseling session on Monday. I'm still not very fond of my therapist. As a person, she's great. I just don't think she's going to help me much. Her answer to everything is, "You don't have to decide that today." I know that... but WHEN? When do I decide things? How do I decide them? But then again, maybe she is helping because since that session I decided that cutting myself was not something I'm going to do .. NOT because of Gary. NOT because I think it was dumb. But because I just .. .well I don't know. I just decided I wasn't going to. I don't have to have a reason, right?

I need to get back to losing weight. I want to join Curves. Having one car makes that hard. IF Gary's schooling is approved, I will join.

The Army is pissing me off. Gary re-enlisted with the option for six months of schooling. As in he didn't have to go to his Army job, he could go to school for six months. Well due to a few things going on in the world and things I'm not sure if I'm allowed to say online (security), his schooling may not get approved. But it was in his CONTRACT. He can't change his contract, why can the Army!!!! And the Army wonders why it's having trouble keeping it's soldiers.

Lately I'm doing ok. I'm not happy with my life. I'm not miserable either. I'll work towards happiness little by little. My counselor was right about one thing -- I don't have to make the decision to leave or stay with Gary today.

My marriage is failing

2007-02-26T10:25:00.000-06:00

Yesterday Gary woke up after me, as is the case on weekends. I didn't hear him get up and he walked into the living room to find me crying. He kissed me good morning and then said, "Are you crying for the reason I think you are?" I nodded. Then he just went and ate breakfast. I went and laid down on our bed and sobbed. I heard him go back to the office and I know that he heard me at one point. Gunner had been playing and didn't hear me or see me crying. Though I know he has to feel the tension. We try to hide it, but kids are perceptive. I took a Trazadone -- the pills my doctor gave me to sleep. I never take them. But yesterday I just wanted to sleep. ALLL DAY. So I told Gary I took one and was going to sleep all day. I said if Gunner wanted to cuddle me at any time, he could come in. I slept from 11:00 to 4:00. I got up and played with Gunner. Gary didn't really say much. Gunner went to bed a little later than usual. Then Gary went back to the other room. I kept waiting for him to come out and talk. He didn't, of course. He did come out from time to time and have small chit chat.. but if anything, it's worse. Finally, at 9:00 I went to bed. He came in there about 10. He said he didn't know I'd gone to bed. We usually go to bed together. He took his shower and came to bed. Usually we cuddle and watch tv. I just had my back to him and read. Finally I turned over and asked him if we were ever going to talk about what was going on. He said (of course) he didn't know what to say. I asked him if this is how our marriage would always be. Would anything ever change. His answer was, "I don't want to say it will never change." I asked him what he WOULD say. He said that it PROBABLY wouldn't change. We had a few more words, not even heated. I pointed out that it took two to make a marriage work and I couldn't do it on my own. He said he knew I was a great wife. Blah blah blah. I told him I was going to sleep on the couch. He said he'd rather I didn't. I don't remember what was said next. Nothing hateful or mean, but for the first time in our near five year marriage, I slept on the couch.

My marriage is falling apart and he won't do anything to fix it. He says he wants our marriage to work.. but he won't work on it. I'm beyond depressed.

I also took the picture that was on the shelf in our bedroom of our wedding day and put it in a drawer. It literally hurts to look at it. For the first time in all of our years together, I do not believe he loves me.

Well, I'm off to go see my counsellor. The counsellor who I don't think really helps, but I refuse to not get help.

Very graphic.. could be disturbing.. Bulimia and Cutting

2007-02-23T12:03:00.000-06:00

Gary read on my MySpace a secret. that I am bulimic and my husband knows but doesn't care. He has said nothing about that. My exact "secret" was "I'm bulimic. My husband knows but doesn't care. I eat to fill the emptiness and I purge to get rid of the hate I feel for him, myself and the world." He said nothing.

Then I gave him a letter about a week and a half ago. In it I addressed our issue of not talking, no sex, etc. He said nothing. I asked him if he got the letter. He said yes. When I asked if he had anything to say. He said, "I don't know what to say." AS USUAL. AFTER OVER FOUR FUCKING YEARS.

Finally, I told him four days ago that for each day that goes by that he refuses to talk. Refuses to acknowledge anything, I'm going to cut myself. I showed him a cut on my arm to prove it. He just blinked. Sort of clinched his jaw. Said nothing. Looked teary-eyed. Again, said nothing.

The next day, I showed him cut two. I said, "In keeping with my word..." He said he'd noticed. He said nothing.

Today is day four. You're probably asking why? How long is she going to continue this? I don't know how long. Why... I'm doing it to show him the physical manifestation of the pain inside it causes when he refuses to talk.

I keep asking myself:

* What kind of man watches his wife hurt herself over and over and refuses to talk?

* What kind of man knows his wife is bulimic and does nothing?

* WHAT KIND OF WOMAN STAYS WITH THIS MAN?

When will I leave??

Three Penny Pig

2007-01-25T17:09:00.000-06:00

When Gary and I were dating he was in North Carolina and I was in Albuquerque. We would often send each other little gifts. I wanted to share one of the gifts that I sent him which still holds a place of honor in our home. I would be devastated if anything happened to it.

Three Penny Pig. Also known as 3PP. He is a miniature piggy bank with Gary's name on it. About an inch tall. Inside I placed three pennies -- one for 1967, 1973 and 2000. Our birth years and the year we met. 3PP sits on The Block of Knowledge (a totally different story) in the office. I firmly believe this will be one of those family heirlooms that we will pass down. It isn't financially valuable though its true value cannot be measured.

I was gone for a while

2007-01-08T21:46:00.000-06:00

We went to Albuquerque, Montana and Colorado Springs. Lots to update on. I'll do so soon!

Proof I'm an Army Wife

2006-12-14T09:15:00.000-06:00

Today I came to the conclusion that maybe I've been exposed a bit long to the Army way of life. As proof I offer the following examples:

* When leaving for my walk this morning, I said I was "stepping off" not leaving.

* There is no breakfast, lunch, dinner or snacks in my house. It's all just "chow."

* I have actually uttered the phrase, "I'm going to link up with " rather than saying I was going to meet them.

* I can easily identify the branch of service someone is in based on either uniform pattern and style or where their rank is placed on the uniform.

* It was MY idea to name my son Gunner.

* When talking to someone about what they do for a living, I don't ask them their occupation, I ask them their MOS.

* When driving through any area with houses, I automatically slow down to 15 miles per hour.

* Regardless of the store I'm in, I automatically offer the cashier my ID card.

* I know at least three cadences... and have used them to sing my son to sleep.

* I understand and can define acronyms such as PCS, TDY, LES, POV, PT and many more.

* I no longer have to add or subtract 12 to understand military time.

* Referring to someone by their first name, rather than their last, is odd to me.

* Roll Call is not something done in school for attendance, it is something that is heart-wrenchingly sad.

** Now, I think I came up with all of these on my own; however, there is the possibility that they are out there on one of those numerous "You Know You're A Military Wife..." thingees. But these are all true in my life. **

Update

2006-12-10T07:28:00.000-06:00

Ok here's a bit of an update...

* My weight loss has slowed way down. I think it's a combo of not exercising as much (which I've started back), eating poorly (which I'm TRYING to fix) and the natural progression of my weight loss tapering off and evening out. I'm at 259 as of Tuesday.

* Gary and I had sex last night -- first time in the two weeks since he's been back. It wasn't bad. He was better than he's ever been before. But I didn't orgasm. I think I worry too much about what is not happening, rather than what is.

* We leave in a week to go to Albuquerque (YIPPEEE) and then Montana (EHH).

* Last night Gary told me he realized he's taken me for granted far too often. I'm not sure what to think about that.

* I wish my friends would blog more often..lol

Gary's home!!!

2006-11-24T18:31:00.000-06:00

Gary got home yesterday, Thanksgiving Day! He said that all the pictures he saw of me did not do me justice, that I looked so much better in person. I know that I'm not the most photogenic..lol.

Gunner has really enjoyed having his daddy home. I have too. Unfortunately, to welcome Gary home, my period is here too. UGH. We did have some fun make out sessions though. :)

Here are a few pictures of the homecoming.

I am down to 263 pounds!!!

2006-11-18T08:47:00.000-06:00

Total weight loss is 135 pounds!!!! My body mass index (BMI) is down from 68.0 to 45.01!!! That's a loss of 22.9 in BMI!!!! I'll take new pictures soon.

I miss my grandmother

2006-11-07T18:15:00.000-06:00

I was looking through a catalog and saw this photo tray. Immediately I thought, "Wow, Goggie would love this!" Goggie is what we called my grandmother. She's been gone for four years. I still miss her for things like that. I think of her daily. The pang I felt when a split second I remembered she's dead felt just like it did the day she died. A bit worse actually.

I miss you SO much Goggie!

Update

2006-11-06T12:25:00.000-06:00

I am down to 269 lbs. That is a total loss of 129 lbs! I am doing really well. I just need to eat better. I have an appointment with the dietician on November 17. That will really help.

Gary should be home within a few weeks. I'm holding my breath on that one. Who knows. I hope so though. His parents might be coming to visit when he comes home. His mom is sweet but drives me nuts. I adore his dad.

Gunner just got over having a huge ear infection. He's back to acting normal. Which means he's a hellion.

My depression is a lot better now that I'm back on Effexor. Today for some reason I'm having an anxious day. I think it's because I have a doctor's appointment for a cold and I hurt my hip last week. It's a new doctor and I always get nervous w/that. I have taken two of my anti-anxiety pills and I'm still anxious. Imagine if I didn't have them.

That's about it. Thank you everyone for the sweet, supportive comments.

Our Soldiers

2006-11-02T08:25:00.000-06:00

http://www.jrtc-polk.army.mil/JRTC_FRG/4-1...2-4Pictures.htm

Maybe I'm being super-sensitive because it's my husband. Who knows. But I put a link on my board to show the pictures of the living conditions of the soldiers. Someone made the comment that they were surprised by "all" they had over there. It pissed me off. Why? Because she made a comment about the fact they had a weight room. Well, yes they do. They still have to stay in shape. They still have to have SOMETHING to do to keep their minds off things when they're not out running missions.

Look at their tents -- would you want to live there? Look at the phone room. Notice the floor is sand. See the dust everywhere?!?! You can't have a private conversation back home if someone chooses to listen in -- luckily everyone's too concerned w/their own business. Look at the luxurious cots on which they sleep. The privacy they get is ZILCH. The pictures showing the guys sitting at computers is the S-3 shop. I have no clue what the S03 shop is other than operations, I'd guess. They're working there -- not surfing the net.

I know I'm extra sensitive but who cares. That's my HUSBAND. Yeah, he joined the Army and knew he'd be deployed. Yeah, the living quarters are better than they had in Vietnam, etc. But their still our soldiers -- our brothers, sisters, husbands, wives, mothers, fathers -- why shouldn't we want them to live in the BEST possible conditions? They're serving OUR nation. Some people say they're not fighting for our freedom right now... and maybe that's true. Who knows the whys of the wars we're fighting now. I don't listen to the political BS -- because that's what it is -- BS. These soldiers go over there and fight the fight like they joined up to do. It's our duty as Americans to support them.

:: Jumping off my soapbox::

GARY'S SHIRT FITS ME!!

2006-10-28T19:27:00.000-05:00

Oh sure, it's tight, but it fits!!!

Pictures from today

2006-10-21T15:06:00.000-05:00

I took some pictures for Gary today. LOL Ignore the Wiggles book on the bed (doesn't that just add to the overall sexiness of the picture..lmao)

Update

2006-10-19T21:26:00.000-05:00

I kept logging onto the website where Gary was emailing w/those women. I even emailed a few and told them to back off. Childish, I know. Their emails were ugly. The two women I emailed were rude and basically said if I knew how to please a man.... well you can figure it out. This account was impossible to close (sexsearch.com). Finally I got smart. I realized I was torturing myself for no reason. I gave my sister the log in information and had her change the password. She has been instructed by me to NOT give me the password regardless of what I say, do or beg. I cannot stop myself on my own.

In the meantime, Gary has called more often. He has been online everyday. He has always been online when he could be. He swears he will never do this again. At this point, I have to believe it. Sometimes you just have to have faith. The faith I have in him is very, very tenuous.

He won't be home until March. The official word has not been handed down yet but I'm 99.99% sure that they'll be extended. Otherwise, he'd be home in five weeks. Instead, it's six more months of being apart and worrying about him.

My Letter to Gary

2006-10-16T09:18:00.000-05:00

I've shared everything else, this is what I just emailed him. I mean everyword of it. I am not taking blame for what he did, I'm letting him know that I forgive him. We have both made mistakes.

Elixir ~

I want you to know how much I love you. You are my everything. We have been through a lot together as a couple and still we are in love. I know I haven't always been the best wife, but please know that being your wife is all I have wanted since probably a week after knowing you.

I will never forget the first time I realized I wanted you to love me. I was making my old muse bed (remember the one w/the muse divet?) and I was at the bottom left corner (ironically the same side of the bed you'd eventually sleep on when we got our own bed). I was making the bed and all of a sudden I thought how awesome it would be to hear you say "I love you Little Muse." At the time, I thought that would never happen. Now, nearly six years later, I have heard it so many times -- but not enough. I say not enough because there will never be enough days in our life for me to hear how much you love me.

I fell in love with you because of your calm demeanor, your sense of honor and loyalty to those you chose to be so. To this day, I love those very things about you. I do not want you to ever think that what just happened has changed that. You are one of the most honorable and loyal people. A falter here and there does not make you any less my Elixir than you ever have been. For ever having made you feel less than perfect for me, I apologize. I do not expect you to be perfect... you're perfect for me.

Thank you for standing by me during my weight gain, weight loss, depression, anger... everything. Thank you for loving me for who I am.

There's a song (not sure by who) that has the lines "things I always thought you didn't know about me, turned out to be the things you always understood." I listen to that song and cry for missing you. It starts out "I hope you're doing well out there w/out me... because I'm not doing so good w/out you." That's true. I'm doing fine day by day, but there is a hole in my heart from missing you.

You are, and will always be, the only man in my heart.

Love,

YOUR LITTLE MUSE
(and I'm actually becoming little!)

Maybe my marriage WILL work

2006-10-15T12:22:00.000-05:00

I finally talked to Gary. The bottom line is that he does NOT want out of our marriage. He hasn't talked to these women in quite some time. We had a good talk. I think our marriage will be ok. We have a long road, but it CAN be done. He was in near-tears.

I had a friend delete the accounts. She was able to confirm to me that he has not talked to any woman on instant messenger nor has he talked to them in weeks. Which backs up what he said -- that he started it when he got over there. Right before he left, we had a big blow up. He was feeling like maybe our marriage wasn't right. He said over the past 45 days he's given it so much thought and he IS in love with me and realizes our marriage is what he wants.

He is afraid I'll leave. I'm not going to. We'll get through this. It will take prayer, counseling and lots of love. But we have the love.

I have a confession...

2006-10-14T21:07:00.000-05:00

I have a confession that is not going to make me look too good. About eight years ago, I had an affair with a married man. His name is Rich. Through the years, we have kept in touch. I met him online. It was right after my first marriage. I knew at the time I was wrong. We have NOT had any sexual contact since way before Gary. His wife found out about his indiscretions. Basically we keep in touch via email every few months. Nothing sexual... just a "how are you" thing. I tell this because of the following:

Tonight he caught me online. We were chatting and I just had to talk to him about the situation. I asked him about us. See, he told me about two years after knowing me that he was in love with me, but could never leave his wife. This was long, long after our last encounter. Tonight I talked to him on the phone. Was it wrong, yes! But here's what I came away with. He said that all during his dalliance with me, he had feelings for me and eventually loved me, but would have NEVER left his wife. He said that regardless of what Gary thinks about my body, I need to remember that I am beautiful -- I needed to hear that. I reminded him I was fat. Of course he knew this, he's been with me. He said that my body was my body, to accept myself. He pointed out that when he met me I was so confident and lively. He's noticed over the past six years I've been more withdrawn. He pointed out a great many things. He also said that he was sure what Gary did was not "cheating" in Gary's eyes and that men don't think right sometimes.

Basically he told me that my marriage was not over. That his marriage made it through. I needed to hear that from someone who has seen me, been with me, touched me and could remind me I have been attractive to men before.

I was wrong, yes I know. I hope no one hates me for this.

I put my wedding ring back on

2006-10-13T18:55:00.000-05:00

I'm having a rough time. I just need to hear from him that he wants to be with me and this has all been a mistake and he is sorry and wants to stay married to me.

Gary has been cheating

2006-10-12T21:12:00.000-05:00

On a website. I'm at a loss for what to do. It's all been through email. But it was sexual talk. And it all started 4 days after arriving in Afghanistan. I want to die. I want God to just take me. It is payback, I know for my sins.

I wish I could get away. Go away. I have nowhere to go to just mend.

I had a sticker on my car, a magnet that said I LOVE MY SOLDIER. I took it off and flung it. Yeah, I littered.

My wedding ring is in a jewelry box.

When I met him he said he could never cheat. The reason he gave was so simple, it made me love him. He said he liked a close shave. If he cheated, he wouldn't be able to look himself in the eye in the mirror, thus no close shave. I wonder how he's shaving these days.

A Lesson on Judging

2006-10-10T09:23:00.000-05:00

When Gary was in Korea, he would tell me about "drinky girls." The best way I can think to describe them would be women who weren't usually prostitutes, but they bordered on it. They worked in bars and would charm the soldiers into buying drinks. I'm not exactly sure how it all worked, but the soldiers would pay them $20 or so and buy drinks. The girls would keep them company. Sit on their laps, etc. The drinky girls are rarely Korean. They are usually Filipino or Russian. Basically, they are owned by the bar in which they work.

Of course there are the instances when soldiers would fall in love with and marry these drinky girls. I would always laugh and think what a dumb move that was for the soldier. I mean they just wanted to come to "The Land of the Big PX."

On Saturday Vicky brought a girl she works with over for this party I was having. Lena is Russian. I asked Vicky if her husband had met her in Korea and Vicky said yes. I laughed and said, "Oh my GOD!! She was a DRINKY GIRL!" Vicky said she knew Lena worked in the bar in Korea and didn't really hide it but would act sort of ashamed. She said Lena was really sweet and modest.

When Lena walked in, I was very polite. Through the day I realized she IS very sweet. Very modest. Very caring. Very everything I like in a person. Then I thought about what it might have been like for her in Russia, and why she might have left. What it must have been like in Korea. Vicky told me she had to sneak out of the country and leave all of her things there -- even though she was married to a US soldier, she was still "owned." By the time Lena left, I was feeling very guilty for judging her and everyone else like her.

I know I need to be less judgmental. This was an example where I judged someone and I was so wrong to have done so. Everyday I'm going to try so hard not to judge. I think that is one of my biggest flaws.

Everytime... Everday

2006-10-07T11:41:00.000-05:00

Everyday.... Every time
Every time Gunner cries out of the blue and says, "Daddy miss you."
Every time I look outside and see a car slowly driving down my street.
Every time my home phone rings (no one knows the number but Gary).
Every time he comes to mind.

EVERY TIME THOSE THINGS HAPPEN I FEAR THAT HE'S HURT OR DEAD. I cannot stand the thought of losing him. I'm so scared and halfway convinced I'm going to be widowed. I seriously would die if something happened to him.

I can't really tell the other wives this because I don't want them to think I'm a baby. Or to put fear in them.

I WANT MY HUSBAND HOME!!! (A sentiment echoed by so many other wives)

** Today I saw a soldier that had been in Gary's company. He used to come over for dinner quite often before they were deployed. He is home because he was injured. He is supposed to recover. When he walked in, I just hugged him tight and welcomed him home. The funny thing is I didn't want to let him go. I know that two weeks ago or so he was with Gary. I know he used Gary's laptop, so vicariously touched Gary. To me, that was the closest I'd come to being near my husband in forever. OMG I MISS HIM SO MUCH**

On The Losing Side

I have moved

Woe Is Me

Mrs. Gibson

What's in YOUR wallet?

Rambling Post

Homecoming

So, I Gave Birth to a Serial Killer

Army Logic

Two Years Ago and 200 Pounds Ago

IT’S MORE THAN A THREE DAY WEEKEND

Quick Update

WOW.. I finally figured out how to change my password

Update

I Started My New Job Today

Happy Birthday Gunner

So That Others May Believe

WHAT? Me ... WORK?!

Letter To My Husband

Waa Waa Wednesday, Complete with Video

I wish I had

You'll Hear From My Lawyer!!

Milestone Birthdays

Today is My Fifth Year Anniversary

Small update

BATMAN!!!

Promotions!!

Good News/Bad News

Soo... Seriously

A Brand New Look

Kid Rock

Hurricane Who?

Thank yous are in order

Ch...Chhh.. Changes

Strippers... Yes Strippers

How To Make A Single Man Loathe (or Love) Being a Bachelor

Welcome Home ~ You Stink!!!

Hurricane Scapegoat

I love my babies

Since You've Been Gone....

Second Life/Second Time

DIY Bloggin

I am WEIRD with money

Army Wifery

My Husband's Briefcase

VOTE

I made a big decision

Isn't this stealing?

So Frustrated...

Cadaver Cost

My Sleeping Beauties

From the book of "WHY DOES HE DO THAT?"

Testicles... no not "testicles" but TEST-Uh-Clees (Rhymes with Hercules)

I'm Officially Depressed

Weight Loss Update

Cool

WHY DOES HE DO THAT?!

Stuff

Racism

My Shoulder...

Weird Things that Bug Me

Hypocrites ** Editted**

THERE'S HOPE

Two Weeks And Some Odd Hours Later

Two Weeks Later

Me, my life and stressors

Operation Icee... AKA My 40 Days of Difference

I was feeling hopeful.. now not so much

My Morning Alone

Losing it

A few more pics of Maddy

Sisters, daughters and granddaughters!

Random

Army Stupid

Back off!!!!

Dreams

The song that breaks my heart.

Ever Have Those Days..

Venting

Just a little update

Hypocrites Editted