GOT A JOB!!!!!!
Start date is within the next 3 weeks. Daycare details are being worked on as I type, and then the biggest decision is where we’ll move to next. Fingers crossed it all goes smoothly. Goodness knows I’m already a big enough basket case with all the things that are coming at us just with this!
I think I’ve finally come to some conclusions and figured some things out for the near future. Which is a relief at the same time that it’s upsetting. I know that I’m doing what’s best for my kids, and that things will ultimately work out. But in the mean time people are going to get hurt, and that breaks my heart because I am such a devoted people pleaser. Of course, there’s also the part where my total happiness is on hold as well, but I’ve got so many other factors to focus on that I don’t have time to sit and think about being sad about it, so I’ll be more OK than the other parties involved.
Regardless, I think I’ve got it figured out for now, and have a tentative plan, Now I just have to research some things, and set the rest of the plan in motion.
Completely unrelated, if you know good realtors or have a house in the greater NOVA area that you’d be willing to rent us at an excellent price, let’s talk. Because we are so very out of here at the end of this lease term. Done, gone, goodbye.
The End.
When I extend my generosity to you and you slap me in the face all watts but physically? Our so called “friendship” is not going to last all that long.
Females are not my usual choices for friend because, as a rule, they make things entirely too complicated and/or dramatic.
Sometimes you need to pay stoopid-expensive ticket prices to go to a movie by yourself, then pay more for snacks than the ticket cost – all to just get away, relax, and decompress.
Chicken nuggets, yogurt, goldfish, and “sweet bread” are SO qualifying dinner foods on a night mommy can’t manage cooking.
It is entirely necessary to take your friends up on offers of a night out on them when you can have the kids watched. The sanity it saves is worth an elephant’s weight in gold.
Phone calls from the Army are NOT, in fact, reason to walk out of the room where your children are playing to hear the person better. You will end up with permanent marker “pictures” on your WALL that could’ve been avoided by just letting the person get a little frustrated and have to talk a bit louder. I had to learn that one the hard way. See?
Her: Mommy whassat?
Me: these are mommy chips.
Her: oh ew.
Her: oh Mommy, I need kiss you eyes *kisses my eyes* oh, Mommy, that feel funny.
Stemmed from nothing…
Her: oh, Mommy, *you* save a bunny wabbit.
Him: Mommy, we wanna watch dat moobee wiff a pwincess guhl. Sees pwetty. (Princess Protection Program with Selena Gomez & Demi Lovato…he’s only 3.5!!)
“Pickle Baby, you cannot fees the moth your froot loop. Especially not through the sliding glass door.”
“Boogie, if you pull those pants up one more time, you and I will be having a lesson on the concept of pantsing.” (For the record, the tag irritated his skin, and I had them sitting just-so with the tag not touching him. Plus they’re thisclose to being to short for him.)
We did that whole vacation thing and the beach condo, and then a bit of hanging out at home.
We all have those special people in our lives that when they’re upset with us, it’s physically painful. I for one would sell my very soul to right the wrong and get back into the good graces of the select few people who have that tight of a hold on my heart. (For the record? My kids are usually not factored into that group. Not because they aren’t hugely important to me, but because by some otherworldly blessing they rarely get that kind of mad at me. And when they do it’s either hilarious or well-deserved and I’m proud of the fact that I got through to them and they learned whatever I was trying to impress upon them. Don’t judge me. I’m well aware of my status as a bad mom.)
Going outside to get my mail in totally summer heat appropriate clothes (jeans and a tank top) and having my neighbors look at me like some kind of trashy, street-walking hooker frustrates me. Especially when the people across the breezeway from me have all their windows and doors open while they’re having the kind of screaming-in-foreign-languages-while-obviously-throwing-objects-at-each-other fight that SHOULD warrant a call to the county police but won’t because of the ethnic diversity of the neighborhood. Funny thing, being in the minority. Makes me like a social pariah, and something to gawk at – even when things of far more “interest” are going on. And heaven forbid I go out with my kids, it’s like the pinnacle of attention-drawing goodness: young, white, mother of 2…alone! Oh holy hell!
Lately I’ve been really frustrated with the fact that I can’t contribute to my family in a “bigger” way than running our home and raising our children day in and day out. I know that my “job” is arguably one of the most difficult and important that I could be doing. It’s just hard to feel like I’m really doing things that matter when there’s no financial “reward” tied to it all. It feels like I’m “working” just to earn my keep and the things that I utilize and take full advantage of every single day. Never has The Husband held it against me that he works hard to earn every penny to support our family by himself. And it’s not like I’m going out of my way, trying to live an extravagant and costly lifestyle. But all the same…I desperately want to be a financial benefit to my family, instead of just living on The Husband’s efforts.
Something has been weighing heavily on my mind lately, and I need to take a few moments to get this thing off my chest. I’m a young mother. No secret about that. Anybody who knows me (or cares to ask) knows that I made some less that intelligent life choices in high school and was pregnant with my son when I walked at graduation. I was 19 when he was born (then 20 when my daughter was born), and forever changed my life. My childhood was over that day, and I walked away from nearly every opportunity I ever had to go party and just hang out being a “normal” young adult. Because that was how I was raised to believe it’s supposed to be: you have a child and they become your top priority. When they’re old enough to live their own lives without your help every step of the way, that’s when you get to think about living for yourself again. But lately, the growing trend – at least where I grew up and live now – seems to be these little girls (because they’re still children, really) keep having all these babies and talking a good game about wanting to be perceived as such good moms. And that’s awesome. I think everyone should have goals. But these same little girls that want to be seen as awesome mothers? They’re going out and living their lives for themselves – partying and clubbing and drinking with their friends (who don’t have kids) while their parents and families raise their babies for them. Now, I can understand the occasional night out to relax and let loose because you are still a young adult and wholly entitled to the chance to live that life. (Believe me…I have my own 2 children, and I’m raising them largely alone while The Husband is across the world. I know what it’s like to want the chance to relax and not have to think about feeding 2 other mouths or wiping 2 other butts!) But if your child spends more home time with your parents than with you, and you aren’t in school or working to provide for your child? Then as far as I’m concerned you do NOT number among the ranks of the good mothers. You give a bad name to the rest of us doing everything we possibly can to give our children the lives they deserve. These babies that we’ve consciously decided to bring into this world, and knowingly accepted the responsibility of caring for. They don’t deserve to be blamed for “ruining” their mother’s life – they may have changed everything forever, but they’ve ruined nothing. Not to mention that they didn’t choose to be born – we chose to bring them into this world. I cannot emphasize that enough. These very same girls out there partying and acting like children are complaining about the inconveniences of the very children that THEY CHOSE to carry to term and bring home with them! If you weren’t willing to give up your lifestyle to care for the child you created, there were other options available to you…other people who would give their right arm for the chance to be doing the very things you find so inconvenient.
I’m sorry – that’s one of those topics that really gets under my skin. So I’ll step off my soapbox before I say anything else I might regret later on.
Leave is over. I’m back to that whole single parenting gig. The Husband is legitimately back to work “in a mountain” as our kids call it. Which all means that he was home and I never said a word about it…unless you’re on your A game and noticed my mention of having 3 other people in my house. We keep things on the DL here, obviously.
But really, I feel like life is back to “deployment normal” now. And that sounds absolutely terrible if you really think about it, I know. I can’t help it, though. With this early rotation, it makes the whole thing difficult.
Wow…not at all where I wanted to go with this whole thing. Jumping back onto the train of thought I was on when I started, how about we try for a run-down of the last 2 weeks – bullet style.
- international flights and metro pick-ups were coordinated and made and whatnot. as usual, there were the last minute freak-outs from baby man about “no want Daddy, wanna go get Grandmom” but that was quickly forgotten when Daddy tapped on his window when we got to the metro.
- obscene amounts of laundry were done. which is tragically sad when you consider that The Husband brought home a whopping 2 outfits, 4 pairs of chonies, and a uniform that he wore the whole way home (which, ew. I love you dearly, TH, but seriously…ew. don’t ever do that again, please.)
- somewhere in here was a whole week that seemed like we did a whole lot of nothing, but I know we went places and did things. mostly it was just hanging out with the kids and doing the whole parenting/family thing. it was needed.
- we acquired a loan (a personal first…shuddup, I’m still a baby by most people’s definitions) and bought a new-to-us car to replace the car The Husband bought from his best friend’s father. if you followed that, I applaud you. I struggle with it myself, but that could be the exhaustion functionality.
- the day following the purchase of our new car, we packed up the family and drove to visit a friend for the 4th. let me just tell you that you need more than 2.5 days to adjust to being a family of 4 again before you stick yourselves in a car together for several hours to drive SOUTH on a major holiday weekend. ‘nough said.
- drank ourselves relaxed upon arriving at our friend’s house. our combined 3 children ended up running around her upstairs playing and generally keeping each other awake until well after midnight. I’d feel terrible about it, except for the part where her kid was a huge instigator of a large part of it.
- we did the whole beach thing one day, an indoor bounce playground thing the next day, and came home before fireworks on the 4th because I was ready to sleep in my own bed and zip my kids into theirs and pee in my own toilet and not worry about the messes we made and a whole host of other things that seemed earth-shattering then, but I was just cranky because
- holy UTI, Batman.
- jugs of cran-apple cocktail juice and more AZO than the instructions recommend, and I’m good as new. who’da thunk florescent colors could come from the human body?!
- went to Freedom Fest on base, and had to talk the boy child into liking the fireworks because he had himself convinced he wanted to be scared. so he sat in my lap and literally clung to my neck while he cackled with delight.
- MIL threw together a cookout on the 5th, after she got home from work. The Husband’s oldest sister was in town for some other function (she lives in TX, so visits are few and far between), so the only one missing was my BIL. fireworks for the kids at the end of the driveway, but they saved all the flashy ones for the end so I had to walk away and go back inside.
- against my instructions, my kids were permitted to play with sparklers, and then The Husband brought the girl child inside to me asking for a bag of ice and some burn ointment, because she’d touched her thumb to her 4th sparkler and had a healthy blister already bubbling up. amazing how a mother’s judgment is proven right time and again.
- home shenanigans abound. but like all good things, leave too must come to an end…right when things are starting to really settle in and run smoothly. new routine worked out, and suddenly it’s time to change it again.
- took The Husband back to the metro to go catch his first in a series of flights to get back to combat.
- as much as we might’ve liked to, there was no way I could’ve handled parking at the airport and getting all 4 of us through security to have to say goodbye at the gate and then walk back to the car alone with my kids. so we said our (tearful) goodbyes, and we drove away before the tears had a chance to blur my vision completely.
That was Friday. And while it’s only been 2 days since all that, it seems like a lifetime ago.
Saturday was my birthday, and despite plans for drunken debauchery, it remained relatively low-key. A few of my friends got together and we went to dinner and to play putt-putt. There was a little bit of movie watching, and then I came back home to my empty house (God bless my in-laws for keeping my kids so I could have some “me-time” for the weekend).
Today didn’t really exist, except in the passage of time. I mostly sat around doing a whole lot of nothing before having to scramble to drive back up to my parents to retrieve my couch cover since my mother most graciously agreed to wash it in her “over-sized” washer. Then she demanded I let her feed me, and like the obedient child I never was growing up I complied. My dad discussed the new car with me for a bit, then my mom came back outside to stick a birthday check in my hand before I left. Dropped the couch cover at home, and went to pick up my babies. We finally left an hour after I got there, and I had to drive past home to get gas because there was no way we’d get out of the house before the heat of the day to fill up, and I don’t want to have to worry about having no gas when/if we try to go somewhere fun. Babes in bed after 1030, a phone call from The Husband, extended conversations with my sister (who is currently making me so proud it almost physically hurts), and thus is my life.
On that oh-so cheery note, I do believe it’s time to stop making your eyes bleed and call it a night.
All-time most epic parenting moment of my life: teaching the girl child what shart means, then listening to her walk around all morning saying “poop fart” in a sing-song voice and occasionally at top volume. This parenting gig? It’s pretty stellar after all.
sometimes…you just hafta let kids be kids, & roll with their weird decisions
