It never fails. Every time I meet a new USMC spouse here, the conversation goes something like this:
Me: Hi! It's so nice to meet you!
Her: And you as well! Isn't your daughter about the same age as mine? We should definitely have a playdate!
Me: Yes!!! We would love that! I think so-and-so mentioned that you live in ________ neighborhood, too! That is where we live. Just down the street.
Her: That is amazing! I walk every Wednesday morning with a few other USMC spouses, you should join us. They are so much fun!
Me: I'd really like that. I'd just love to meet some more neighbors. I feel like after 2 years, I don't know many at all.
Her: Absolutely. You've been here 2 years? What does your husband fly? What squadron is he with?
Me: Oh, he's actually a Comm-O. He's with (insert unit here).
Her (with blank stare and growing disinterest written all over her face): Well, give me your number, I'll call you next week.
I give her my number and never ever ever hear from her again.
Yup. Every single time.
I get it: we're at a Marine Corps Air Station; most of the spouses I meet will be pilot wives. But I have never felt so isolated in my life, even in a city the size of San Diego. I'm sure that most of them don't do it on purpose, but the few of us I do know who are not pilot wives (we're all members of the Officers' Wives' Club together), are excluded from a lot of things on base and socially. It sucks feeling left out all the time. And with the USMC Ball this weekend, I am a little apprehensive because I know that maybe 2 of the women I know will be there, while all the the squadrons have their own ridiculously fun balls and other social events all the time. Yes, I'm jealous. Our unit has basically nothing. (And while technically a squadron, it's not, as far as I'm concerned. The spouses don't do anything. There is no social function other than the annual holiday party, which is for about 400 families...not a very good place to meet new people, either.)
Case in point: a few weeks ago, there was a Flight Suit Formal. All the guys and gals gathered at the O-Club, and the gals spiffed up their hubby's old flight suit. It looked like a BLAST. But wait...my husband doesn't have a flight suit. So I asked about that...was told they welcome all variations on cammies, but who wants to be the only one there NOT in a flight suit? I was actually pretty bummed that I had to miss one of the few social events that I might know a few people at. :( Even at our OWC meetings, the squadrons tend to group together, and those of us not married to a pilot are kind of scattered around the table like clingons. It's embarrassing to not fit into any of the cliques.
I admit, and I know others feel this way, too: Sometimes we're made to feel inferior because our husbands don't fly. Well, the USMC has kept my hubby around for 12 years for some good reason, and though I agree he is ridiculously good looking, I don't think that is why. Just because you married a pilot does NOT make you a better person. That whole "I don't wear his rank thing" should be amended to include MOS. I know not all pilot spouses are like that, but the ones who are ruin it for everyone else. I'm made to feel like an interloper just because my husband has a different job. It's not like he cleans toilets for a living.
I guess what I would tell those spouses is this: Be kind. Be welcoming. Include others, regardless of what squadron they are with. We are all walking the same walk. We all deal with deployments, PCSing every few years (although it's much easier for pilots to homestead...lucky bastards), and especially remember that other spouses are making new friends (or trying to) every few years as well.
It has been two years, and I still don't have that "mil spouse buddy" I can call up and go grab a beer with, or go to the winery, or just go hang out. I miss that terribly. I am a social creature, and I crave those connections, especially with women who understand this crazy, beautiful life. I would love to have a peer who I can grab and say, "Hey, you and I are going ball gown shopping NOW." Even through the deployment, unless it was a unit-sponsored function, or I was in the hospital, I never saw any of the other spouses or families. :-( This really makes me sad, because I am such an outgoing person, and so is Moose.
And a special THANK YOU to the new friend I met on Facebook recently, though not in person yet, who graciously invited me to attend any unofficial squadron get-togethers. That meant the world to me, that you would include someone you barely know. I will be taking you up on that offer!!! And for the handful of ladies that I know fairly well here, we need to spend more time together!!
And on that note, I wish everyone a wonderful night at their Ball this weekend! Happy Birthday to the United States Marine Corps!!!!!!
Friday, November 9, 2012
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Coming Together
Well, finally I am able to share Sunday's experience. I think the common thread on Sunday was that we were all exhausted. The Seminar had a little less structure on the second day, but it was easy to see why: everyone was just out of emotional resources. We started the day with a remembrance service, which I admittedly skipped. I decided to explore the Rita Art Project instead. If you get a chance to check out the work this group is doing, please do. After that it was time to choose a workshop. Along with about 20 other suicide loss survivors, I sat down with Jackie Garrick, Acting Director of the Defense Suicide Prevention Office.
Jackie is AMAZING! Her office is only about a year old, and yet they are making REAL efforts to prevent suicide in our DoD community. And she wanted real feedback from us, the survivors, about how we can support our military and other survivors. Can I tell you how wonderful it is to actually have someone listen? I think as survivors we often feel like our stories and needs fall on deaf ears, which is tremendously frustrating. In an already emotional situation, being brushed off is another injury to our hearts. Anyway, I think we made some great points, and I know Jackie is going back to her office armed with some excellent ideas. THANK YOU for taking the time to listen to us!!!
We then had lunch, and returned to our Peer Groups. It was small again, of course, but I think it was wonderful, as we were able to really connect and dive in deep. I love those ladies I was in a group with (and our facilitator, Franklin). I hope to connect with them often. We talked about how in 5, 10, 20 years, all those young kids will be us. We are a growing group, and that is just heartbreaking. I hope that in the years to come, more resources will be made for adult child survivors, as we, as a population, are about to explode.
By the afternoon, most of us were pretty much tapped out. It's a fabulous program the TAPS staff puts together for us, but all of it is hard work. Work experiencing our own grief, and supporting others in theirs. We had a moderated peer panel, on which I represented the adult child survivors, and I think we succeeded in sharing a message of hope. That there IS life after suicide loss. We can go on and find things that make us happy again, we can celebrate again, and we can remember the love. The motto for the weekend sums it up:
Remember the love, Celebrate the life, Share the journey.
Anyway, I am rambling again. I am so glad I went. Next year, I want Moose and my husband to go with me. I think it will help him to help me (though he already does an amazing job of supporting me), and to help her cope with the loss of a man she never knew, but loves because I love him. If you are a survivor of military suicide loss, I strongly encourage getting involved.
Jackie is AMAZING! Her office is only about a year old, and yet they are making REAL efforts to prevent suicide in our DoD community. And she wanted real feedback from us, the survivors, about how we can support our military and other survivors. Can I tell you how wonderful it is to actually have someone listen? I think as survivors we often feel like our stories and needs fall on deaf ears, which is tremendously frustrating. In an already emotional situation, being brushed off is another injury to our hearts. Anyway, I think we made some great points, and I know Jackie is going back to her office armed with some excellent ideas. THANK YOU for taking the time to listen to us!!!
We then had lunch, and returned to our Peer Groups. It was small again, of course, but I think it was wonderful, as we were able to really connect and dive in deep. I love those ladies I was in a group with (and our facilitator, Franklin). I hope to connect with them often. We talked about how in 5, 10, 20 years, all those young kids will be us. We are a growing group, and that is just heartbreaking. I hope that in the years to come, more resources will be made for adult child survivors, as we, as a population, are about to explode.
By the afternoon, most of us were pretty much tapped out. It's a fabulous program the TAPS staff puts together for us, but all of it is hard work. Work experiencing our own grief, and supporting others in theirs. We had a moderated peer panel, on which I represented the adult child survivors, and I think we succeeded in sharing a message of hope. That there IS life after suicide loss. We can go on and find things that make us happy again, we can celebrate again, and we can remember the love. The motto for the weekend sums it up:
Remember the love, Celebrate the life, Share the journey.
Anyway, I am rambling again. I am so glad I went. Next year, I want Moose and my husband to go with me. I think it will help him to help me (though he already does an amazing job of supporting me), and to help her cope with the loss of a man she never knew, but loves because I love him. If you are a survivor of military suicide loss, I strongly encourage getting involved.
Saturday, October 6, 2012
While It is Fresh
If you read my last update, you know that this weekend I am at the TAPS Military Suicide Survivor Seminar being held in San Diego. Yesterday, I attended Peer Mentor training, and today was the first official day of the events. It was a long day, starting at 0700, and I just returned to my room at approximately 2130. I knew it would be a hard day. I knew I would be immersed in a culture to which I did want to belong, but here I was, nonetheless. I knew that as a group, we are unique, with even more unique subsets. I came here hoping to connect with someone who can really understand where I've been, and maybe where I'm going. I did that. I also came so I could test the benchmark. Am I so abnormal that even 8 years later, I feel like this? Of course, now it's not everyday, but I do have my days. Is that normal? And what I learned: absolutely. I am normal. I'm not the only one who cries...I probably cry a lot less than some, and more than others. I'm not the only one in pain and just trying to take it a day at a time.
There were a few things I took with me today. The first is a little piece of the pain of everyone there (I think we have about 700 people here, so that's a lot of pain.) To some who know me, they may think I am cold, or distant, or that I keep people at arm's length. It is true to some extent. Who wants to set themselves up for pain again? Anyway, I'm rambling. But the truth of the matter is, every single person I've met, I take a piece of their hurt. I hurt because they are hurting, and that is just so damn unfair that ANYONE else has to hurt like I have.
The second thing I took with me, was from my peer group session. There were only 5 of us in the Adult Child Survivor group. I was the oldest of us, except the facilitator. And as such, I am in a very different place in my life now, but it wasn't so long ago that I was wondering would I ever meet a man who accepted me, my faults, and my pain, and take me for who I am. I wondered, who would walk me down the aisle? Who was going to make the Thanksgiving pies? What I learned today, was that I was not alone. These young women were going through the exact same things I had experienced. And while I felt so alone at those times, now I can make sure they don't have to go it alone. And I feel as if a weight or burden has been removed, just knowing that I'm not the only one to have those thoughts.
Thirdly, the children....oh god, the children. Moose is 4. There were many kids her age, who had lost a parent. There were some who were younger, and many who were older. They were all so brave, and amazing. But my heart hurts so badly. No child should know this pain. It would absolutely destroy me to know that anything had caused my daughter this kind of hurt and grief, and here I am surrounded by these kids who are living. I talked to a lot of moms today who lost their husbands to suicide, and they have young children at home. Some of these children don't remember Daddy, or maybe never knew him. To me, it is unfathomable, but here they are.
There were several wonderful speakers today (all were just amazing), and so many powerful messages, words of strength, and also the undercurrent of support just knowing you are surrounded by someone you could turn to and tell your story. I managed to keep it together, until after dinner. The memorial slideshow, with photos of each attendee's loved one who died by suicide, was my undoing. All that was bubbling just under the surface. I was sitting next to one of my new friends, whose son had taken his own life, and his photograph was the first one. I didn't even have to think. I just leaned over and held her the entire time (maybe about 10 minutes), it was definitely what she needed then, and I think it might have been what I needed. My tears slowly started coming with that first photo. And I cried quietly with her. I cried for her, for every mom, dad, wife, husband, brother, sister, son, daughter and friend who was seeing their own photograph. And when it was my turn, I cried more. And still I held on to her.
By the time our honored guest speakers had finished, we'd all cried some more. And I was grateful at that point for the laughter we'd also experienced today. And the companionship we all gave to one another. This weekend is more than crying, and hurting. It's also about finding new ways to take care of ourselves, help others, and find our way down a very rocky path. I'm raw, stripped to the bone. It's exhausting work like I've never experienced before. Hell, I've never allowed myself to feel this much. And I'm also coming away with a lot of things I want to share. Things I think will help my friends and family, just knowing what to say when I'm having a bad day, or when you just don't know what to say. Things that I hope will help someone who has lost. Things I hope will help my daughter as she navigates her own way through her Poppy's story of life and love.
I'm sure I will write again tomorrow night. It helps to do it while some of this is so fresh. And maybe in a few days, I will take some of my notes to make a more coherent post. But for now, I am going to crawl into my bed, dig deep down under the extra blankets (I set the hotel a/c to 60* so I can pretend I'm having an East Coast fall), and hopefully fall asleep quickly. There's more work to be done tomorrow. And hopefully I am little more prepared for it now.
There were a few things I took with me today. The first is a little piece of the pain of everyone there (I think we have about 700 people here, so that's a lot of pain.) To some who know me, they may think I am cold, or distant, or that I keep people at arm's length. It is true to some extent. Who wants to set themselves up for pain again? Anyway, I'm rambling. But the truth of the matter is, every single person I've met, I take a piece of their hurt. I hurt because they are hurting, and that is just so damn unfair that ANYONE else has to hurt like I have.
The second thing I took with me, was from my peer group session. There were only 5 of us in the Adult Child Survivor group. I was the oldest of us, except the facilitator. And as such, I am in a very different place in my life now, but it wasn't so long ago that I was wondering would I ever meet a man who accepted me, my faults, and my pain, and take me for who I am. I wondered, who would walk me down the aisle? Who was going to make the Thanksgiving pies? What I learned today, was that I was not alone. These young women were going through the exact same things I had experienced. And while I felt so alone at those times, now I can make sure they don't have to go it alone. And I feel as if a weight or burden has been removed, just knowing that I'm not the only one to have those thoughts.
Thirdly, the children....oh god, the children. Moose is 4. There were many kids her age, who had lost a parent. There were some who were younger, and many who were older. They were all so brave, and amazing. But my heart hurts so badly. No child should know this pain. It would absolutely destroy me to know that anything had caused my daughter this kind of hurt and grief, and here I am surrounded by these kids who are living. I talked to a lot of moms today who lost their husbands to suicide, and they have young children at home. Some of these children don't remember Daddy, or maybe never knew him. To me, it is unfathomable, but here they are.
There were several wonderful speakers today (all were just amazing), and so many powerful messages, words of strength, and also the undercurrent of support just knowing you are surrounded by someone you could turn to and tell your story. I managed to keep it together, until after dinner. The memorial slideshow, with photos of each attendee's loved one who died by suicide, was my undoing. All that was bubbling just under the surface. I was sitting next to one of my new friends, whose son had taken his own life, and his photograph was the first one. I didn't even have to think. I just leaned over and held her the entire time (maybe about 10 minutes), it was definitely what she needed then, and I think it might have been what I needed. My tears slowly started coming with that first photo. And I cried quietly with her. I cried for her, for every mom, dad, wife, husband, brother, sister, son, daughter and friend who was seeing their own photograph. And when it was my turn, I cried more. And still I held on to her.
By the time our honored guest speakers had finished, we'd all cried some more. And I was grateful at that point for the laughter we'd also experienced today. And the companionship we all gave to one another. This weekend is more than crying, and hurting. It's also about finding new ways to take care of ourselves, help others, and find our way down a very rocky path. I'm raw, stripped to the bone. It's exhausting work like I've never experienced before. Hell, I've never allowed myself to feel this much. And I'm also coming away with a lot of things I want to share. Things I think will help my friends and family, just knowing what to say when I'm having a bad day, or when you just don't know what to say. Things that I hope will help someone who has lost. Things I hope will help my daughter as she navigates her own way through her Poppy's story of life and love.
I'm sure I will write again tomorrow night. It helps to do it while some of this is so fresh. And maybe in a few days, I will take some of my notes to make a more coherent post. But for now, I am going to crawl into my bed, dig deep down under the extra blankets (I set the hotel a/c to 60* so I can pretend I'm having an East Coast fall), and hopefully fall asleep quickly. There's more work to be done tomorrow. And hopefully I am little more prepared for it now.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
October - Not Sure I'm Ready for You
Well it has definitely been a whirlwind here since the hubs came home. We went to Hawaii (more to come on that in a future blog post), he went to Colorado on an elk hunting trip, my busiest time of the year for work started, I also started working on my Certified Personal Trainer course, and now this weekend I am attending a Suicide Survivor Seminar. (Oh. and the big AFSP San Diego Out of the Darkness Walk is in just over 2 weeks.) Of all the things I have going on, it's this weekend that is stressing me out the most.
About 500 people will be attending the TAPS Military Suicide Survivor Seminar in San Diego. As you all know, my father died by suicide just over 8 years ago, shortly after his retirement from his civilian and military careers. Among other problems, he suffered from PTSD. I still wonder daily if I'd known then what I know now, would he still be here? Would the Moose know him? Would they be the best of buddies? (I have a feeling they would be, because they are just far too much alike. I'm reminded everyday that he lives on in her.)
But anyway, back to this weekend. For the last few days, I've felt this increasing anxiety and dread. I am attending the Peer Mentor training on Friday, then the seminar lasts Saturday and Sunday. This is not my first large scale suicide survivor event, but it IS my first that caters only to military survivors. The topics covered include prevention and PTSD, moving on and building new relationships (something I suck at, as I still cannot bring myself to connect with my hubby's family). There will be children there - young children, Moose's age - and it breaks my heart that ANY child has to know this pain. It's so fucking unfair. I'm 35 years old and it cripples me sometimes. Imagine being 4 or 5, and living with that your entire life. I just can't.
I know the emotions of the weekend are going to be raw, and right there in my face, which is easy for me to deal with for short periods of time, or with smaller groups of people. But 500+ people, for 48+ hours? It's freaking me out. I don't DO public emotion. In our family, it just wasn't acceptable. After my dad died, I didn't cry in public for years. Hell, I didn't cry in private for a year. It just isn't done. You suck it up and move on, soldier!
And, I will be there alone. I didn't think it was fair to Moose to take her and make her sit through the pain and healing cycle. She knows how her Poppy died, but we don't talk about it in casual conversation. She knows how much it hurts me. Sometimes, she is my rock. But I just couldn't be selfish and take her away for the weekend just so I can wallow. (And yes, sometimes I need to wallow.) So I'm facing this alone. And I suspect it will be completely draining, and I'll cry myself to sleep at least once.
On the other hand, I know that in a lot of ways, this weekend will be exactly what I need. I'll be around people who understand this pain (as much as my hubby tries, I don't think he quite gets it, but I still love him). I'll be learning how to support others experiencing this pain. I'm sure that the rewards will be plentiful, but just getting there is going to suck. I've been a million miles away in my head the last few days. I'm scared. I'm not sleeping well. I feel like there is a weight on my chest.
TAPS does amazing work for our military and their families. I encourage everyone to check it out at TAPS.org. Even if you are not in need of their services, mentally file it away for the day you might need it. Already, they have been there in ways I didn't imagine I would ever need. And I'm sure this weekend will be no exception.
Here's hoping the hotel has margaritas on the room service menu!!!
About 500 people will be attending the TAPS Military Suicide Survivor Seminar in San Diego. As you all know, my father died by suicide just over 8 years ago, shortly after his retirement from his civilian and military careers. Among other problems, he suffered from PTSD. I still wonder daily if I'd known then what I know now, would he still be here? Would the Moose know him? Would they be the best of buddies? (I have a feeling they would be, because they are just far too much alike. I'm reminded everyday that he lives on in her.)
But anyway, back to this weekend. For the last few days, I've felt this increasing anxiety and dread. I am attending the Peer Mentor training on Friday, then the seminar lasts Saturday and Sunday. This is not my first large scale suicide survivor event, but it IS my first that caters only to military survivors. The topics covered include prevention and PTSD, moving on and building new relationships (something I suck at, as I still cannot bring myself to connect with my hubby's family). There will be children there - young children, Moose's age - and it breaks my heart that ANY child has to know this pain. It's so fucking unfair. I'm 35 years old and it cripples me sometimes. Imagine being 4 or 5, and living with that your entire life. I just can't.
I know the emotions of the weekend are going to be raw, and right there in my face, which is easy for me to deal with for short periods of time, or with smaller groups of people. But 500+ people, for 48+ hours? It's freaking me out. I don't DO public emotion. In our family, it just wasn't acceptable. After my dad died, I didn't cry in public for years. Hell, I didn't cry in private for a year. It just isn't done. You suck it up and move on, soldier!
And, I will be there alone. I didn't think it was fair to Moose to take her and make her sit through the pain and healing cycle. She knows how her Poppy died, but we don't talk about it in casual conversation. She knows how much it hurts me. Sometimes, she is my rock. But I just couldn't be selfish and take her away for the weekend just so I can wallow. (And yes, sometimes I need to wallow.) So I'm facing this alone. And I suspect it will be completely draining, and I'll cry myself to sleep at least once.
On the other hand, I know that in a lot of ways, this weekend will be exactly what I need. I'll be around people who understand this pain (as much as my hubby tries, I don't think he quite gets it, but I still love him). I'll be learning how to support others experiencing this pain. I'm sure that the rewards will be plentiful, but just getting there is going to suck. I've been a million miles away in my head the last few days. I'm scared. I'm not sleeping well. I feel like there is a weight on my chest.
TAPS does amazing work for our military and their families. I encourage everyone to check it out at TAPS.org. Even if you are not in need of their services, mentally file it away for the day you might need it. Already, they have been there in ways I didn't imagine I would ever need. And I'm sure this weekend will be no exception.
Here's hoping the hotel has margaritas on the room service menu!!!
Sunday, August 26, 2012
My House is Filthy, But I Don't Care
...because it means my hubby is HOME!!! Yes, he's leaving dirty laundry everywhere, and the sink is FULL of dishes. The floors look gross and I'm constantly reminding him to close the screen door, but he is home. He came home last week, and I've just been enjoying having my family of three back together again. I haven't touched the computer, or pulled up my work email, or anything. I'm just basking. ♥
It wasn't an easy 207 days and nights, but it wasn't nearly as difficult as I might have expected. It seems like it passed quickly, despite the fact that I had a few more challenges to overcome than your average deployed spouse. I was lucky, though. I made it through the surgeries on my kidneys on my own. Time just kept moving, not dragging. I think I can credit my work for that. I just had too much to do to be thinking about "time". I didn't accomplish everything on my Bucket List, but I also accomplished things I never dreamed I could have. Overall, I'm pretty happy with the way things worked out.
So, what's it like having him home? Of course it has been a readjustment for all of us. Moose doesn't want to let Daddy out of her sight. She begs him to "Stay home forever." That is heartbreaking, because I know there will be more goodbyes eventually. But more or less, he's fit right back into our life as a family. I have to cook for three now, but that's not such an adjustment (as we've eaten quite a few meals out the last few days). Really, we could not have asked for a more perfect reunion. We are so very lucky, because I know it isn't so easy or perfect for everyone. But we have the fairytale.
Our nights have been spent cuddling and watching movies as a complete family again. Long talks. Planning for the future. I hope to have photos to share in the near future (I had another professional photog come and cover it for us). But here's one of Moose and Daddy when we got home.
Lots of great things are going to be happening in the next few months, and I hope to share them all here. I'm heading in a new direction (but also will keep up as a full-time photographer), we are expecting orders in the Spring, so that will be interesting. (Fingers crossed we can stay in SoCal.) A big family vacay is in the works. Lots happening. So while the last seven months have come to an end, we know the journey doesn't end there!
It wasn't an easy 207 days and nights, but it wasn't nearly as difficult as I might have expected. It seems like it passed quickly, despite the fact that I had a few more challenges to overcome than your average deployed spouse. I was lucky, though. I made it through the surgeries on my kidneys on my own. Time just kept moving, not dragging. I think I can credit my work for that. I just had too much to do to be thinking about "time". I didn't accomplish everything on my Bucket List, but I also accomplished things I never dreamed I could have. Overall, I'm pretty happy with the way things worked out.
So, what's it like having him home? Of course it has been a readjustment for all of us. Moose doesn't want to let Daddy out of her sight. She begs him to "Stay home forever." That is heartbreaking, because I know there will be more goodbyes eventually. But more or less, he's fit right back into our life as a family. I have to cook for three now, but that's not such an adjustment (as we've eaten quite a few meals out the last few days). Really, we could not have asked for a more perfect reunion. We are so very lucky, because I know it isn't so easy or perfect for everyone. But we have the fairytale.
Our nights have been spent cuddling and watching movies as a complete family again. Long talks. Planning for the future. I hope to have photos to share in the near future (I had another professional photog come and cover it for us). But here's one of Moose and Daddy when we got home.Lots of great things are going to be happening in the next few months, and I hope to share them all here. I'm heading in a new direction (but also will keep up as a full-time photographer), we are expecting orders in the Spring, so that will be interesting. (Fingers crossed we can stay in SoCal.) A big family vacay is in the works. Lots happening. So while the last seven months have come to an end, we know the journey doesn't end there!
Thursday, August 16, 2012
The Catch-22
Scene: The television is on the other side of the room, blaring "We did it!" and the rest of Dora the Explorer. The author is sitting in the most uncomfortable chair she owns: one of the dining room set with a wicker seat, just grateful to have 10 feet of space between herself and her offspring and 5 minutes in which to form a somewhat coherent thought. Enter: crabby blog post.
It's been one of those days. The kind in which I get nothing accomplished, despite a growing "to-do" list. Technically, I am on a month-long hiatus from work, but that doesn't mean the work started before I went on "break" just magically disappeared. In fact, I've been trying frantically to wrap some things up so that I can enjoy the time off, including a family vacation in a few weeks. But no....not happening today. Moose is home from Grandma's house, and is alternating between clinging to me and whining one moment, and bouncing off the walls the next. Oh how I wish it wasn't 100 degrees outside, and that I didn't have a ton of things to get done right now. My stress levels are higher than usual, and a migraine is throwing in a little helping hand.
So now, I look at the clock, rub my throbbing temples, and contemplate all that I have to do tomorrow that I didn't even touch today. Oh sure, I got two things done today. Out of two thousand. And I'm dreading the bedtime battle (which is back). Of course, many people will say I work myself too hard. (But why work if you're going to do it half-assed?) Some of those same people, as well as others, will say I should just relax and focus on being a parent and not a careerwoman. And yet, there it is: The Career Catch-22.
For all those people that say, "Oh, you don't have to work.": Yes, I very much do. I am not just a mom and a wife; I have a brain and talent and a career that define me every bit as much as anything else. In fact, if you asked me to describe myself, being a mom or a wife isn't even in the first 5 bits of information I would volunteer. And before you tell me my priorities are messed up, just stop right there. Why should my defining qualities be that I am someone else's property??? (i.e. Husband's Wife, Moose's Mother.) Hell no. I am my own person, who has needs and ambitions and a LIFE.
Here's the funny part: a good portion of those same people who say I shouldn't work would immediately pass judgment on me if I just sat home all day and did nothing. So what is up with that? I'd be criticized for allowing my husband to bear the burden of ALL of the household expenses. (He already makes a lot more than I do and contributes much more, and that makes me feel like shit anyway. I don't like not having equality between our incomes, but he supports me in growing my career and finding satisfaction in my work.) They'd say I am lazy, and that I'm setting a poor example for Moose.
Oh, and let me rant on about something else...many "people" see my career as a joke. Because I work from home mostly, or as a photographer, I'm not taken seriously. I call 40-60+ hours a week of hard work, dedication, and my SOUL a serious career. I've poured everything I have into building my business. I think my husband can testify to that. It's not as easy as just "taking pictures". If I could only educate the world on what the photography business is really about, and that we're not all making huge incomes....well, I'm already short on time in my day. I'm fortunate enough to have a job I love, most of the time. If that means I don't have a real job, then I feel sorry for all the people in the world who claim to have "real jobs".
Well, Dora is over, so I guess it's back to reality for me. Is it time for school to start yet?
It's been one of those days. The kind in which I get nothing accomplished, despite a growing "to-do" list. Technically, I am on a month-long hiatus from work, but that doesn't mean the work started before I went on "break" just magically disappeared. In fact, I've been trying frantically to wrap some things up so that I can enjoy the time off, including a family vacation in a few weeks. But no....not happening today. Moose is home from Grandma's house, and is alternating between clinging to me and whining one moment, and bouncing off the walls the next. Oh how I wish it wasn't 100 degrees outside, and that I didn't have a ton of things to get done right now. My stress levels are higher than usual, and a migraine is throwing in a little helping hand.
So now, I look at the clock, rub my throbbing temples, and contemplate all that I have to do tomorrow that I didn't even touch today. Oh sure, I got two things done today. Out of two thousand. And I'm dreading the bedtime battle (which is back). Of course, many people will say I work myself too hard. (But why work if you're going to do it half-assed?) Some of those same people, as well as others, will say I should just relax and focus on being a parent and not a careerwoman. And yet, there it is: The Career Catch-22.
For all those people that say, "Oh, you don't have to work.": Yes, I very much do. I am not just a mom and a wife; I have a brain and talent and a career that define me every bit as much as anything else. In fact, if you asked me to describe myself, being a mom or a wife isn't even in the first 5 bits of information I would volunteer. And before you tell me my priorities are messed up, just stop right there. Why should my defining qualities be that I am someone else's property??? (i.e. Husband's Wife, Moose's Mother.) Hell no. I am my own person, who has needs and ambitions and a LIFE.
Here's the funny part: a good portion of those same people who say I shouldn't work would immediately pass judgment on me if I just sat home all day and did nothing. So what is up with that? I'd be criticized for allowing my husband to bear the burden of ALL of the household expenses. (He already makes a lot more than I do and contributes much more, and that makes me feel like shit anyway. I don't like not having equality between our incomes, but he supports me in growing my career and finding satisfaction in my work.) They'd say I am lazy, and that I'm setting a poor example for Moose.
Oh, and let me rant on about something else...many "people" see my career as a joke. Because I work from home mostly, or as a photographer, I'm not taken seriously. I call 40-60+ hours a week of hard work, dedication, and my SOUL a serious career. I've poured everything I have into building my business. I think my husband can testify to that. It's not as easy as just "taking pictures". If I could only educate the world on what the photography business is really about, and that we're not all making huge incomes....well, I'm already short on time in my day. I'm fortunate enough to have a job I love, most of the time. If that means I don't have a real job, then I feel sorry for all the people in the world who claim to have "real jobs".
Well, Dora is over, so I guess it's back to reality for me. Is it time for school to start yet?
Monday, July 30, 2012
Root Canals are a Hard Limit
Alternate Title: How my Dentist taught me about Sex or How I nearly safeworded on my Dentist
Got your attention did I? It's not what you think, you dirty minded fools. Today, I was scheduled to have my temporary crown replaced with the permanent crown, which was supposed to make my mouth feel all better, and allow me to resume a normal diet. (I haven't eaten real food in a month.) Instead, I was subjected to more pain, and the temporary has been left in place while I wait to see if the bruised ligament will heal or if I need to see the Endodontist.
So anyway, back to the title of this post. I'm sure you've at least heard of the book series Fifty Shades of Grey , in which new college graduate, Anastasia Steele, is seduced into a BDSM lifestyle by super-hot megabillionaire Christian Grey. Christian is young, rich, philanthropic, and devastatingly handsome. And yet, he wants to punish poor, innocent Ana. Despite the pain and fear, she manages to fall in love with him, and they live out a tortuous and seriously screwed up relationship. Enter: my dentist.
My dentist runs a primarily cosmetic practice in SoCal. The parking lot is filled with BMWs, Lexus, Range Rovers and Mercedes. Needless to say, the man is probably making some serious cash. And, he's pretty easy on the eyes. Dr. Grey would appear to be the total package: rich, handsome, kind, gainfully employed...and yet, I still hate him. I'm certain that most of his female patients probably have a minor (or major) crush on Dr. Grey, but not this girl. Not for all the money in the world.
I cannot stand going to the dentist. I avoid it at pretty much any cost. I know he doesn't mean to cause me pain, but just the thought of the drill or novacaine, and I get ill. To add insult to injury, take one look at the bill I'll get. So in some way, yes, I suppose he is deriving pleasure from my pain (or at the very least, I'm making this month's payment on his sportscar). Anyway, I about came unglued when he started drilling on my crown to reshape it. Despite his promises to be gentle, I felt abused. Needless to say, I was not thrilled while making my next appointment for two weeks from now while simultaneously getting a referral to the endodontist. The prognosis: either the bruising will heal on its own in the next several days, or I will need even more extensive work on that tooth, including a root canal.
This morning, on the drive home, feeling violated, I was thinking about poor little Ana Steele. I know she's a fictional character, but how does she do it? I just can't imagine. There is no way I could combine sex and pain. No way, uh uh. Don't get me wrong, I rather enjoyed the books in the series. But I guess that is what fiction is for...to allow us to escape the reality of life a few moments at a time. Maybe if my dentist bought me an Audi, I wouldn't complain as much., but I'm guessing our screwed up "relationship" won't get that far. ;-)
Got your attention did I? It's not what you think, you dirty minded fools. Today, I was scheduled to have my temporary crown replaced with the permanent crown, which was supposed to make my mouth feel all better, and allow me to resume a normal diet. (I haven't eaten real food in a month.) Instead, I was subjected to more pain, and the temporary has been left in place while I wait to see if the bruised ligament will heal or if I need to see the Endodontist.
So anyway, back to the title of this post. I'm sure you've at least heard of the book series Fifty Shades of Grey , in which new college graduate, Anastasia Steele, is seduced into a BDSM lifestyle by super-hot megabillionaire Christian Grey. Christian is young, rich, philanthropic, and devastatingly handsome. And yet, he wants to punish poor, innocent Ana. Despite the pain and fear, she manages to fall in love with him, and they live out a tortuous and seriously screwed up relationship. Enter: my dentist.
My dentist runs a primarily cosmetic practice in SoCal. The parking lot is filled with BMWs, Lexus, Range Rovers and Mercedes. Needless to say, the man is probably making some serious cash. And, he's pretty easy on the eyes. Dr. Grey would appear to be the total package: rich, handsome, kind, gainfully employed...and yet, I still hate him. I'm certain that most of his female patients probably have a minor (or major) crush on Dr. Grey, but not this girl. Not for all the money in the world.
I cannot stand going to the dentist. I avoid it at pretty much any cost. I know he doesn't mean to cause me pain, but just the thought of the drill or novacaine, and I get ill. To add insult to injury, take one look at the bill I'll get. So in some way, yes, I suppose he is deriving pleasure from my pain (or at the very least, I'm making this month's payment on his sportscar). Anyway, I about came unglued when he started drilling on my crown to reshape it. Despite his promises to be gentle, I felt abused. Needless to say, I was not thrilled while making my next appointment for two weeks from now while simultaneously getting a referral to the endodontist. The prognosis: either the bruising will heal on its own in the next several days, or I will need even more extensive work on that tooth, including a root canal.
This morning, on the drive home, feeling violated, I was thinking about poor little Ana Steele. I know she's a fictional character, but how does she do it? I just can't imagine. There is no way I could combine sex and pain. No way, uh uh. Don't get me wrong, I rather enjoyed the books in the series. But I guess that is what fiction is for...to allow us to escape the reality of life a few moments at a time. Maybe if my dentist bought me an Audi, I wouldn't complain as much., but I'm guessing our screwed up "relationship" won't get that far. ;-)
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Unhealthy Body Image?
I've always had self-esteem issues. Well, maybe not so much general self-esteem...I'm pretty confident when it comes to my brains and talent. But where I do suffer is in my body image. And some of my friends may have noticed my obsession with the gym these past few months. I love going to the gym and watching the changes, but I openly admit that I'm nowhere near I want to be. Not by a long shot. But I will get there.
My husband, much as I love him, has suggested that I have severe body image issues. He thinks it's not healthy for me to be so involved with the way my body looks. I disagree. I am not unhealthy. I get more physical exercise than the average American. I love food, and I love to digest food, so no issues with anorexia or bulimia here. When I look to images and media for inspiration, its at images of thin, muscular, fit, women, with an admirable athletic physique. So why is this unhealthy? I do appreciate his concern, but I feel in my core that I am striving to be the best I can, and for good reason.
I feel that I am realistic about the way I want to look. It is not my goal to be 100 lbs, and a size 00. In fact, if I don't lose another pound, I would still be content. (Currently, I stand at 126.4 lbs., 5'4" and size 2 or 4, depending...) I just want to be a fit, well-oiled machine. Let's face it: none of us is getting any younger, or healthier, unless we work at it. If you don't do something for yourself, you will never be any better than you are at this exact moment. Do I expect that I will ever look like an Olympian? Of course not. But I do expect that I will continue to grow stronger, lose more body fat, and increase my endurance. Yes, I'd like to be able to run a 5k, then a half marathon, and then who knows.
So why is this unhealthy? On the contrary, maybe more people should be concerned with their body and health, but in the same way I am. As we look around, Americans are certainly getting more obese each year, and our habits are getting unhealthier as well. Instead of being obsessed with achieving the body of a Victorias Secret model or a physique like that of a professional athlete, I suggest we all just increase our awareness of what our bodies are capable of, and achieve that. Not everyone will be able to reach the same levels of fitness and health, but we can achieve our personal best. For a person to have this mindset, I would say that is a damn healthy state of mind.
I also hope that I am setting an example for Moose. She's been blessed by inheritance of her father's "long and lean" genes, but I still want her to place importance on her physical health. I want her to see that I want to keep improving myself, and eventually reach a point where I am maintaining my good health and strength. I think that is one of the best things I can do for her. I believe it is much more important than placing emphasis on her "beauty" or hair, or style, or those other superficial ways we find to impress personal wealth upon our little girls. Intelligent and healthy is all I ask for my girl.
I guess in parting, I will just ask everyone to consider, what can you achieve? What is your personal best? And what are you going to do to get there?
My husband, much as I love him, has suggested that I have severe body image issues. He thinks it's not healthy for me to be so involved with the way my body looks. I disagree. I am not unhealthy. I get more physical exercise than the average American. I love food, and I love to digest food, so no issues with anorexia or bulimia here. When I look to images and media for inspiration, its at images of thin, muscular, fit, women, with an admirable athletic physique. So why is this unhealthy? I do appreciate his concern, but I feel in my core that I am striving to be the best I can, and for good reason.
I feel that I am realistic about the way I want to look. It is not my goal to be 100 lbs, and a size 00. In fact, if I don't lose another pound, I would still be content. (Currently, I stand at 126.4 lbs., 5'4" and size 2 or 4, depending...) I just want to be a fit, well-oiled machine. Let's face it: none of us is getting any younger, or healthier, unless we work at it. If you don't do something for yourself, you will never be any better than you are at this exact moment. Do I expect that I will ever look like an Olympian? Of course not. But I do expect that I will continue to grow stronger, lose more body fat, and increase my endurance. Yes, I'd like to be able to run a 5k, then a half marathon, and then who knows.
So why is this unhealthy? On the contrary, maybe more people should be concerned with their body and health, but in the same way I am. As we look around, Americans are certainly getting more obese each year, and our habits are getting unhealthier as well. Instead of being obsessed with achieving the body of a Victorias Secret model or a physique like that of a professional athlete, I suggest we all just increase our awareness of what our bodies are capable of, and achieve that. Not everyone will be able to reach the same levels of fitness and health, but we can achieve our personal best. For a person to have this mindset, I would say that is a damn healthy state of mind.
I also hope that I am setting an example for Moose. She's been blessed by inheritance of her father's "long and lean" genes, but I still want her to place importance on her physical health. I want her to see that I want to keep improving myself, and eventually reach a point where I am maintaining my good health and strength. I think that is one of the best things I can do for her. I believe it is much more important than placing emphasis on her "beauty" or hair, or style, or those other superficial ways we find to impress personal wealth upon our little girls. Intelligent and healthy is all I ask for my girl.
I guess in parting, I will just ask everyone to consider, what can you achieve? What is your personal best? And what are you going to do to get there?
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Flying Solo
Well, the Moose has been staying at Grandma's house since the beginning of the month, so I've been going solo around here. Time has flown by. It really doesn't feel like it's already been over three weeks. I know a lot of moms say they couldn't let their 4 year old go away for such a long time. Hell, I know moms that can't go away for a weekend without having some sort of breakdown. To those moms, I say this: Give it a try. It's wonderful being able to focus on yourself for a while, and you know what? Your kid is enjoying the independence from you as well.
So what have I been doing? Basically the same thing as when the Moose is home. Work. Gym. Laundry (though less of it). I've been able to attend more meetings for the groups I am involved with, so that is different, but really that is it. Oh, and I watch more grown up TV. I'm sure you're probably asking why it is so wonderful then. Well, I can shower without worrying about an audience or what kind of mess I will find when I am done. I don't have to fight with anyone about what is for dinner. I can go and hibernate at the gym as long as I like, or go to the pool and simply sleep in the sun. The messes around the house are fewer and further in between. And I've only had to do dishes twice ALL MONTH LONG. (And only because I ran out of coffee cups.)
Sure, I miss her. But it's just so nice to have a mommycation. So before anyone passes judgment, try it. Go away for a week, or two, or six. It doesn't make you a bad parent, it makes you a stronger one. And it is good for the little ones, too. (I make no claims as to whether or not it is good for grandma...I'm pretty certain she is a little lighter in the bank account and sleep department after spending half the summer with my Moose.) We've actually been doing this for a few years now, and I think it's wonderful. As a kid, I spent many a summer with my granny and g'pa. I still have such fond memories of those times.
Now, I get to start planning all the things we will be doing when she gets home. That is just as much fun as relaxing has been. Gives us both something to look forward to. :)
So what have I been doing? Basically the same thing as when the Moose is home. Work. Gym. Laundry (though less of it). I've been able to attend more meetings for the groups I am involved with, so that is different, but really that is it. Oh, and I watch more grown up TV. I'm sure you're probably asking why it is so wonderful then. Well, I can shower without worrying about an audience or what kind of mess I will find when I am done. I don't have to fight with anyone about what is for dinner. I can go and hibernate at the gym as long as I like, or go to the pool and simply sleep in the sun. The messes around the house are fewer and further in between. And I've only had to do dishes twice ALL MONTH LONG. (And only because I ran out of coffee cups.)
Sure, I miss her. But it's just so nice to have a mommycation. So before anyone passes judgment, try it. Go away for a week, or two, or six. It doesn't make you a bad parent, it makes you a stronger one. And it is good for the little ones, too. (I make no claims as to whether or not it is good for grandma...I'm pretty certain she is a little lighter in the bank account and sleep department after spending half the summer with my Moose.) We've actually been doing this for a few years now, and I think it's wonderful. As a kid, I spent many a summer with my granny and g'pa. I still have such fond memories of those times.
Now, I get to start planning all the things we will be doing when she gets home. That is just as much fun as relaxing has been. Gives us both something to look forward to. :)
Friday, July 20, 2012
At first I was afraid
I know, I've been seriously slacking on blogging for the last few months. What happened? Life happened. I had surgery again, on my own. Moose has been busy, and thankfully is currently spending some time at grandma's house so I can have a break. Work has been picking up and well....life happened. The hubby is still playing in the sandbox. Somehow, the house is still standing (and clean). With the exception of my kidneys, there has been no major malfunction of appliances. I'm still busy being a badass at the gym. Same old. Not much new to report. But now you're in for a long, rambling bout of verbal diarrhea....
Last weekend, I met some amazing people and made some new friends. I was at the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life, and one of only a handful of Survivors in our purple t-shirts. I was the youngest Survivor there, by at least 30 years, when suddenly 7 other "young" people my age arrived and joined us, all in their purple shirts. They invited me to join their group, because I'm sure it was pretty obvious that I was feeling pretty isolated and trying to find my niche. That's pretty much what it's been like the last 2 1/2 years since that first doctor's appointment. Feeling like I didn't have a group to belong to, no one to relate. I ended up joining those young Survivors and some others that night for dinner and beers, and I'm looking forward to getting to know them better!
So as great as that experience has been, that wasn't actually my point of this post. What the experience brought up for me is the title: "Survivor". Sure, it is a word I've used to describe myself plenty of times: cancer survivor, deployment survivor, suicide loss survivor. Always, the word "survivor" was tied to that qualifying noun. I couldn't just be a survivor without the rest of the description. In college, I must have belted out Gloria Gaynor's hit a million times with my sorority sisters. But I've never thought of all that it means; never used the title Survivor (yes, with a capital S). I've never contemplated how that one word shapes my life, my world, my place in it, and how I view it.
It's no secret: I'm a tough bitch. I've always been strong and hide any kind of weakness. I've been through so much, if I showed all my cracks, I'd look like an ancient Ming vase that has been tossed from the Great Wall. But... Did you think I'd crumble? Did you think I'd lay down and die? Nope. Just not in my nature. No, not I! But damnit if there aren't days when I want to. But that's just not what I do.
However, something about the title of Survivor has made me stop and think. In many ways, I kind of feel unworthy of the title. I mean...I just did what I had to do with decisions/events that were beyond my control. Does that deserve special recognition? Very few people I know would just roll over and give up when faced with the challenges I've had. On the flipside of the coin, YES, I do deserve the title and the pride that goes with it. I faced down situations that not many people, especially at my age, have to endure. And to have been through what I've seen at this age - I've had three lifetimes of heartache. More than enough for anyone. So yes, I have earned the title, the pride, the recognition. I wouldn't wish these battles on anyone. It's not a title I wanted, but damnit, it's mine now and I'm going to embrace it.
Back to last weekend...do you have any idea how refreshing it is to be able to talk about your diagnosis? To be in a group of people who understand, who aren't afraid to ask, and who don't clam up when you say "cervical cancer"? (Yes, it's a totally taboo subject still, which drives me crazy. And damnit, I just realized the clam pun, but I find it kind of funny and I'm leaving it. I'm a little depraved.) To have an open, honest conversation with someone who understands....I've never had that before. To be able to openly discuss how it felt, how lost it can make you feel, the guilt, the fear, the relief....HONEST discussion without judgment. In fact, one of the guys I met even asked me bluntly, "HPV?" And there was no shame or fear of talking about it. (Although I still don't feel like a qualified source to speak on HPV and it's correlation to cervical cancer. My diagnosis was a rare, aggressive, non-HPV strain.) And that is how we're going to win the war on cancer: by talking about it.
In some ways, I feel unworthy of my new friends. I've been very lucky. At the time of my diagnosis, I was married and had the support of my hubby. I already had the Moose. The loss of my reproductive system was not something I mourned, I already felt complete. I didn't have to undergo months of chemo. I have no port scars. Essentially, my treatment was complete in one radical surgery. We all know that wasn't the end of it...it still isn't. There is still the fear at annual checkups. Anytime I have a sore boob, I freak out. (Which is often, thanks to overdoing it at the gym a lot.) Just because I've fought and won once, I'm not immune to it in the future. That still scares me. When I think about all that this group of young people has been through, I am simultaneously in awe of them and grateful I've found them.
So, in honor of my new friends, I leave you all with this:
Last weekend, I met some amazing people and made some new friends. I was at the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life, and one of only a handful of Survivors in our purple t-shirts. I was the youngest Survivor there, by at least 30 years, when suddenly 7 other "young" people my age arrived and joined us, all in their purple shirts. They invited me to join their group, because I'm sure it was pretty obvious that I was feeling pretty isolated and trying to find my niche. That's pretty much what it's been like the last 2 1/2 years since that first doctor's appointment. Feeling like I didn't have a group to belong to, no one to relate. I ended up joining those young Survivors and some others that night for dinner and beers, and I'm looking forward to getting to know them better!
So as great as that experience has been, that wasn't actually my point of this post. What the experience brought up for me is the title: "Survivor". Sure, it is a word I've used to describe myself plenty of times: cancer survivor, deployment survivor, suicide loss survivor. Always, the word "survivor" was tied to that qualifying noun. I couldn't just be a survivor without the rest of the description. In college, I must have belted out Gloria Gaynor's hit a million times with my sorority sisters. But I've never thought of all that it means; never used the title Survivor (yes, with a capital S). I've never contemplated how that one word shapes my life, my world, my place in it, and how I view it.
It's no secret: I'm a tough bitch. I've always been strong and hide any kind of weakness. I've been through so much, if I showed all my cracks, I'd look like an ancient Ming vase that has been tossed from the Great Wall. But... Did you think I'd crumble? Did you think I'd lay down and die? Nope. Just not in my nature. No, not I! But damnit if there aren't days when I want to. But that's just not what I do.
However, something about the title of Survivor has made me stop and think. In many ways, I kind of feel unworthy of the title. I mean...I just did what I had to do with decisions/events that were beyond my control. Does that deserve special recognition? Very few people I know would just roll over and give up when faced with the challenges I've had. On the flipside of the coin, YES, I do deserve the title and the pride that goes with it. I faced down situations that not many people, especially at my age, have to endure. And to have been through what I've seen at this age - I've had three lifetimes of heartache. More than enough for anyone. So yes, I have earned the title, the pride, the recognition. I wouldn't wish these battles on anyone. It's not a title I wanted, but damnit, it's mine now and I'm going to embrace it.
Back to last weekend...do you have any idea how refreshing it is to be able to talk about your diagnosis? To be in a group of people who understand, who aren't afraid to ask, and who don't clam up when you say "cervical cancer"? (Yes, it's a totally taboo subject still, which drives me crazy. And damnit, I just realized the clam pun, but I find it kind of funny and I'm leaving it. I'm a little depraved.) To have an open, honest conversation with someone who understands....I've never had that before. To be able to openly discuss how it felt, how lost it can make you feel, the guilt, the fear, the relief....HONEST discussion without judgment. In fact, one of the guys I met even asked me bluntly, "HPV?" And there was no shame or fear of talking about it. (Although I still don't feel like a qualified source to speak on HPV and it's correlation to cervical cancer. My diagnosis was a rare, aggressive, non-HPV strain.) And that is how we're going to win the war on cancer: by talking about it.
In some ways, I feel unworthy of my new friends. I've been very lucky. At the time of my diagnosis, I was married and had the support of my hubby. I already had the Moose. The loss of my reproductive system was not something I mourned, I already felt complete. I didn't have to undergo months of chemo. I have no port scars. Essentially, my treatment was complete in one radical surgery. We all know that wasn't the end of it...it still isn't. There is still the fear at annual checkups. Anytime I have a sore boob, I freak out. (Which is often, thanks to overdoing it at the gym a lot.) Just because I've fought and won once, I'm not immune to it in the future. That still scares me. When I think about all that this group of young people has been through, I am simultaneously in awe of them and grateful I've found them.
So, in honor of my new friends, I leave you all with this:
It took all the strength I had not to fall apartKept trying hard to mend the pieces of my broken heartAnd I spent, oh, so many nights just feeling sorry for myselfI used to cry but now I hold my head up high
Monday, May 7, 2012
Giving Myself a Giant Pat on the Back
Not quite a month ago, post-kidney operation #1 and just 2 days before my 35th birthday, I decided to join the local gym. The price was right, and I was tired of hanging on to that last 10 lbs of baby weight from when Moose was born. I'd varied between 130-140 since she was born, almost 4 years ago, and I hated it. I weighed 124 lbs when I got pregnant, and was still that weight at the 5 month mark (serious morning sickness issues), but managed to get all the way up to 163 lbs in the last few months of my pregnancy. (Thank you bedrest!) I weighed 3 lbs more than my hubby, who seemed to lose a pound for every one that I gained.
Well, I am happy to say, I am now back to my pre-baby weight, down 2% body fat putting me at the bottom of the "ideal" range, and down a dress size since I started a month ago. (And that is with my traveling during which I ate and drank out way too much and barely exercised.) Everyone has noticed, and damn, that feels GOOD. When a friend says to you, "I wish I had your abs." that feels AMAZING. And while there is still a lot of work to be done, I am looking much more toned and trim, and feeling a lot better about my physical health. I might even be able to wear a bikini in a month or so. (I'm sure my wonderful husband would tell me I look great in one now, but I'm nothing if not a perfectionist.)
So, the point, besides a lot of attention whoring, is that it's important to do things for yourself. I did not get on this kick so that I look great at homecoming, only to gain back the weight 3 months after he's home. I did this to get healthy, stronger, and feel better about myself. I hear it all the time from friends and clients: "If I could just lose these last 10 pounds, I'd....." Believe me, the last 5 or 10 are the hardest to take off, but it can be done. It just takes hard work. I only get to the gym 3 days a week while Moose is in school, but I'm there at least 2 hours, working my ass off, and when I'm home I'm constantly sneaking in things here and there. It has to be a lifestyle change, so I've made it one. I love the way I feel after I've totally exhausted myself during a workout. I don't love so much the shoulder pain I have from an old dislocation, but even that is getting better a little at a time.
And most importantly, I love that I am setting a good example for Moose. She needs to be around a mom who lives a healthy lifestyle and has a positive body image. I admit that I've never been truly happy with the way I look, but I feel like now, it is a possibility - someday. I'm cooking more fresh foods, and making sure she at least tries them and sees me enjoying them.
My goal over the next two months is to drop another size, lose another 2% body fat (which will put me well within the "lean" range for women my age and stature), and continue the healthy lifestyle changes. It's about making it count, so that I can be the mom I want to be for Moose.
Well, I am happy to say, I am now back to my pre-baby weight, down 2% body fat putting me at the bottom of the "ideal" range, and down a dress size since I started a month ago. (And that is with my traveling during which I ate and drank out way too much and barely exercised.) Everyone has noticed, and damn, that feels GOOD. When a friend says to you, "I wish I had your abs." that feels AMAZING. And while there is still a lot of work to be done, I am looking much more toned and trim, and feeling a lot better about my physical health. I might even be able to wear a bikini in a month or so. (I'm sure my wonderful husband would tell me I look great in one now, but I'm nothing if not a perfectionist.)
So, the point, besides a lot of attention whoring, is that it's important to do things for yourself. I did not get on this kick so that I look great at homecoming, only to gain back the weight 3 months after he's home. I did this to get healthy, stronger, and feel better about myself. I hear it all the time from friends and clients: "If I could just lose these last 10 pounds, I'd....." Believe me, the last 5 or 10 are the hardest to take off, but it can be done. It just takes hard work. I only get to the gym 3 days a week while Moose is in school, but I'm there at least 2 hours, working my ass off, and when I'm home I'm constantly sneaking in things here and there. It has to be a lifestyle change, so I've made it one. I love the way I feel after I've totally exhausted myself during a workout. I don't love so much the shoulder pain I have from an old dislocation, but even that is getting better a little at a time.
And most importantly, I love that I am setting a good example for Moose. She needs to be around a mom who lives a healthy lifestyle and has a positive body image. I admit that I've never been truly happy with the way I look, but I feel like now, it is a possibility - someday. I'm cooking more fresh foods, and making sure she at least tries them and sees me enjoying them.
My goal over the next two months is to drop another size, lose another 2% body fat (which will put me well within the "lean" range for women my age and stature), and continue the healthy lifestyle changes. It's about making it count, so that I can be the mom I want to be for Moose.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Another Reason I'm Unpopular
A few months ago, I mentioned that I am an atheist. It's definitely an unpopular opinion, especially among the military community, which tends to be very pro-religion. I have many, many reasons I do not believe in God, or a higher power. Most of them could be attributed to my highly logical thought process. If I can't see your "proof", don't count on me falling for your fairytales. After all, I don't belive in Mother Goose or Rumplestiltskin or Peter Rabbit. Anyway, I am not going to get into theological debate with this post. I feel the way I feel, and that is that. What I did plan to discuss was how it can be difficult to raise a child in a Christian society when she and I are both atheists. (My husband subscribes to some kind of Catholicism....but I honestly think he would fall under "skeptic".)
A few days ago, I was cursing something under my breath, as I often do, and said "God! I am so sick of __________!" I can't even remember what I was upset about, but I do remember what Moose said to me: "Mom, that hurts my feelings." I told her I wasn't mad at her, and asked her, "What hurts your feelings?" "When you say 'god', Mom."
Clearly she didn't get it from me, and I know they're working on kind words at school, so that must be where it came from. Don't misunderstand, I don't really mind that they are teaching her that we shouldn't say that...if anything, I am respectful of other peoples' beliefs in their deity, and that includes taking the name in vain around Christians and whatnot. However, I am uncomfortable with her thinking that someone saying, "God!" hurts her feelings. It's just a WORD. And I want her to know that she can decide what words she allows to hurt her, and which ones she can just let go. It's a word that essentially means nothing to her at this point. I asked her why that word hurt her feelings, and she just shrugged at me. And that was the end of that.
We also just celebrated Easter. Fortunately, we are still at that age where we can get away with not explaining WHY some celebrate those days, and why our reasons are different than those of the other families we know. I decided long ago that there was no harm in celebrating Easter or Christmas, as there are other myths associated with the holiday that do not revolve around the birth or resurrection of a man. Truly, the spirit of these holidays for our family is the celebration OF the family...just being together, happy and healthy, is reason enough to have a special day, complete with presents, a special meal, and a day to play. But I know that soon enough she will start noticing that we do not attend church, she'll start hearing the stories other children learn in Sunday school, and she'll begin to question why she doesn't go to church as well.
I feel like I'm somewhat prepared to address these issues with Moose, when the time comes. I don't feel the need to include her in a religion just so she is not so different from her peers. When she is old enough, she will be free to decide what she'd like to believe in. But until then, I'll be consistent in my message. I will encourage her to be understanding of differences in religion, just as we are accepting about any other difference. It's about teaching her to be a decent human, an upstanding world citizen. As Thomas Paine said, "My country is the world. My religion is to do good." I think that is a pretty sound mantra.
A few days ago, I was cursing something under my breath, as I often do, and said "God! I am so sick of __________!" I can't even remember what I was upset about, but I do remember what Moose said to me: "Mom, that hurts my feelings." I told her I wasn't mad at her, and asked her, "What hurts your feelings?" "When you say 'god', Mom."
Clearly she didn't get it from me, and I know they're working on kind words at school, so that must be where it came from. Don't misunderstand, I don't really mind that they are teaching her that we shouldn't say that...if anything, I am respectful of other peoples' beliefs in their deity, and that includes taking the name in vain around Christians and whatnot. However, I am uncomfortable with her thinking that someone saying, "God!" hurts her feelings. It's just a WORD. And I want her to know that she can decide what words she allows to hurt her, and which ones she can just let go. It's a word that essentially means nothing to her at this point. I asked her why that word hurt her feelings, and she just shrugged at me. And that was the end of that.
We also just celebrated Easter. Fortunately, we are still at that age where we can get away with not explaining WHY some celebrate those days, and why our reasons are different than those of the other families we know. I decided long ago that there was no harm in celebrating Easter or Christmas, as there are other myths associated with the holiday that do not revolve around the birth or resurrection of a man. Truly, the spirit of these holidays for our family is the celebration OF the family...just being together, happy and healthy, is reason enough to have a special day, complete with presents, a special meal, and a day to play. But I know that soon enough she will start noticing that we do not attend church, she'll start hearing the stories other children learn in Sunday school, and she'll begin to question why she doesn't go to church as well.
I feel like I'm somewhat prepared to address these issues with Moose, when the time comes. I don't feel the need to include her in a religion just so she is not so different from her peers. When she is old enough, she will be free to decide what she'd like to believe in. But until then, I'll be consistent in my message. I will encourage her to be understanding of differences in religion, just as we are accepting about any other difference. It's about teaching her to be a decent human, an upstanding world citizen. As Thomas Paine said, "My country is the world. My religion is to do good." I think that is a pretty sound mantra.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
I'm Back
I know I've been off the radar for a few weeks, but now I'm back. That kidney surgery I was hinting about a few months ago....well it happened, but not at all how I had planned. The doctor's office called me at the end of the business day last Tuesday and said "Can you be here Thursday morning?" It was then, or wait (in excruciating pain) until mid-May, so I jumped on it. Before then, I was wading through my days, dealing with a lot of pain management issues. I could either be in pain and function, or take meds and be sick all the time. Neither is much fun. Anyway, with about 36 hours to plan and get ready for surgery, with a deployed husband and the Moose to take care of, plus run a business and reschedule my busy weekend....it was crazy.
The actual procedure went well, it was an "invasive" surgery, though we weren't sure if they would have to go in or not prior. Well, the recovery has been hell. In fact, Moose is at school today when she normally would have been home, because all I can really do right now is sleep. I'm down six pounds from being sick and having no appetite, but I'm so swollen it is difficult to wear jeans or anything that snaps/buttons. I've been living in yoga pants. Thank goodness for our FRG for making sure we've had food. Poor Moose, she's had to live with a shadow of her normal Mommy.
Anyway, I admit, all I've wanted for the last week is my husband HOME. There is no pain in the world like kidney pain, it's totally debilitating. In this crazy military life, we learn to do a lot on our own, but somethings you never want to have to do that. This is one of them. Oh, and guess what....I get to do the other side sometime in May. Alone. Again. I tend to consider myself Superwoman, even amongst military spouses. I'm tough, I'm hardened, I'm almost cold. I just do what I have to do and don't bitch about it. That's what being a military wife means. You married them, the deployments, the worry, the whole job....shut up and just take care of business while they're gone. But this is one time I wish we didn't have to go through it. I'm exhausted, physically and emotionally, and feeling very much alone, despite the support of friends near and far.
I'm feeling better step by step. I actually expected my recovery to be a little easier than it has been, but unfortunately it hasn't. I know I won't be able to take care of Moose when they do the other side, the worse of the two. So I'm trying to plan for that right now. And I'm finally getting back to work and the other things that keep me busy. At least for a while.
The actual procedure went well, it was an "invasive" surgery, though we weren't sure if they would have to go in or not prior. Well, the recovery has been hell. In fact, Moose is at school today when she normally would have been home, because all I can really do right now is sleep. I'm down six pounds from being sick and having no appetite, but I'm so swollen it is difficult to wear jeans or anything that snaps/buttons. I've been living in yoga pants. Thank goodness for our FRG for making sure we've had food. Poor Moose, she's had to live with a shadow of her normal Mommy.
Anyway, I admit, all I've wanted for the last week is my husband HOME. There is no pain in the world like kidney pain, it's totally debilitating. In this crazy military life, we learn to do a lot on our own, but somethings you never want to have to do that. This is one of them. Oh, and guess what....I get to do the other side sometime in May. Alone. Again. I tend to consider myself Superwoman, even amongst military spouses. I'm tough, I'm hardened, I'm almost cold. I just do what I have to do and don't bitch about it. That's what being a military wife means. You married them, the deployments, the worry, the whole job....shut up and just take care of business while they're gone. But this is one time I wish we didn't have to go through it. I'm exhausted, physically and emotionally, and feeling very much alone, despite the support of friends near and far.
I'm feeling better step by step. I actually expected my recovery to be a little easier than it has been, but unfortunately it hasn't. I know I won't be able to take care of Moose when they do the other side, the worse of the two. So I'm trying to plan for that right now. And I'm finally getting back to work and the other things that keep me busy. At least for a while.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Meet Daddy
Moose has quite the imagination. She is often content to play alone for hours at a time, and will tell me to leave her alone. I am dreading her teenage years if she continues at this rate. This past weekend has been a rainy and nasty one in So Cal, so we had to entertain ourselves somehow. Yesterday we had several movie marathons, ran to the store, and had fun. Today she preferred to be left to her own devices, which meant I could read all day without too much disturbance. It was wonderful. Until she dragged this guy out of her closet.
She received this bear as a holiday gift a few years ago, and the thing is literally bigger than she is. I threw it in the closet about a year ago, since it was only taking up room. Today, she decided the bear had a greater purpose in life. She decided this bear was now Daddy. Daddy sat on the couch with her, built a fort with her, and generally was dragged around the house the entire day. This is a photo of Daddy sitting up to the dinner table. She's spent most of the afternoon and evening talking to Daddy as if he really were her father.
I'm sure that this is completely normal, but I admit to being a little weirded out by it. My husband does not look like an oversized stuffed bear. Nor is he predisposed to wearing scarves. But whatever makes her happy. I had refused to get her a "Daddy Doll" on the premise that they are extremely creepy and border on voodoo doll status. Especially the ones with the sound recorders. Creepy. And incredibly tempting to stick pins into. A lot of moms swear by them...just not our thing.
I'm hoping that "Daddy" can find his way back into the closet tomorrow. I definitely hope I don't end up dragging this bear everywhere with us. He might be hard to explain in the HOV lane. "No, officer, I swear I'm not trying to skate through here with a toy posing as my 2nd passenger. Really, I do have a kid in the back, you just can't see her past 'Daddy's' giant head." Yeah...no. Usually, Moose is infatuated or fixated on a new stuffed animal for a few days, then it passes and it is tossed in the toy box with so many other flavor of the week castoffs. One can hope, right?
Friday, March 9, 2012
Whatcha Got Cookin'?
As you may have guessed, there is never a dull moment around here. Except at the dinner table. I can't cook. Not to save my life, or that of my family. I once had a friend try to teach me how to cook out of a box. He was unsuccessful. Most nights, especially while on this deployment, dinner is cereal, ramen, mac n cheese, frozen pizza, chicken nuggets in the microwave, or eggs and bacon (the only thing I can fry without needing to file a homeowner's insurance claim immediately thereafter.) Tonight: mac n cheese. I am surprised that we're not eating out any more than we usually do...actually less. Because it's too much damn work to drive anywhere. (We're kind of out in the "rural" part of town, and only one pizza place delivers.)
But sometimes, just sometimes, I get lucky. See, I like to throw crap in a crockpot and see what happens. (Also my dutch oven, sometimes.) And once in a while, it's good. I've recently figured out that blogs with recipes get more hits, so tonight I am starting a new series, appropriately dubbed:
Crap in a Crockpot.
Sorry if the name is offensive. It's kind of an homage to my dad, who could cook brilliantly, but often made SOS (that's Shit on a Shingle, to you lay folks). So, here's experiment numero uno. I was looking for a baked potato soup recipe, and a friend was gracious enough to provide one for me. One that I didn't follow. Now bear in mind, I don't measure really. So these are approximate.
Crap in a Crockpot: Baked Potato Soup (or something)
5 or 6 potatoes - get the decent sized ones, they're easier to cut - diced into cubes or something
1 box of chicken broth (no, i don't know how many ounces are in a "box")
about 1/2 stick of butter (it's what I had laying around)
1 small onion - finely diced (or use Tastefully Simple's Onion Onion...about 2 tbsps)
salt and pepper...however you like it
So, you got all that crap? Throw it in the crockpot. Turn it on high for about 3-4 hours. Or until the potatoes are mushy and you can smoosh them with a spoon (I actually use a handheld blender.)
Then, throw in more crap:
a cup or two of half n half (I use fat free, cuz I have enough fat on my ass)
a small bag of shredded cheddar cheese (I used about 3/4 of it, since it was what I had left)
some bacon - cooked and crumbled
some chives (I like fresh. I say that because it makes it sound like I know what I'm talking about)
a big spoonful of sour cream (I actually put it in now, instead of on top)
Blend all that crap up. Then you have soup. Let it cook for another 30-60 minutes on low...enough to make it hot enough to burn your tongue. Then put it in a bowl, add more cheese and bacon if you like, and eat it. It's delicious. If you're short on time, I have used baked potatoes from the night before, put it all in a big stockpot on the stove, and had soup in about 30 minutes.
I froze a bunch of it, too, for nights when I'm sick of mac n cheese. You're welcome. Stay tuned for more Crap in a Crockpot recipes.
But sometimes, just sometimes, I get lucky. See, I like to throw crap in a crockpot and see what happens. (Also my dutch oven, sometimes.) And once in a while, it's good. I've recently figured out that blogs with recipes get more hits, so tonight I am starting a new series, appropriately dubbed:
Crap in a Crockpot.
Sorry if the name is offensive. It's kind of an homage to my dad, who could cook brilliantly, but often made SOS (that's Shit on a Shingle, to you lay folks). So, here's experiment numero uno. I was looking for a baked potato soup recipe, and a friend was gracious enough to provide one for me. One that I didn't follow. Now bear in mind, I don't measure really. So these are approximate.
Crap in a Crockpot: Baked Potato Soup (or something)
5 or 6 potatoes - get the decent sized ones, they're easier to cut - diced into cubes or something
1 box of chicken broth (no, i don't know how many ounces are in a "box")
about 1/2 stick of butter (it's what I had laying around)
1 small onion - finely diced (or use Tastefully Simple's Onion Onion...about 2 tbsps)
salt and pepper...however you like it
So, you got all that crap? Throw it in the crockpot. Turn it on high for about 3-4 hours. Or until the potatoes are mushy and you can smoosh them with a spoon (I actually use a handheld blender.)
Then, throw in more crap:
a cup or two of half n half (I use fat free, cuz I have enough fat on my ass)
a small bag of shredded cheddar cheese (I used about 3/4 of it, since it was what I had left)
some bacon - cooked and crumbled
some chives (I like fresh. I say that because it makes it sound like I know what I'm talking about)
a big spoonful of sour cream (I actually put it in now, instead of on top)
Blend all that crap up. Then you have soup. Let it cook for another 30-60 minutes on low...enough to make it hot enough to burn your tongue. Then put it in a bowl, add more cheese and bacon if you like, and eat it. It's delicious. If you're short on time, I have used baked potatoes from the night before, put it all in a big stockpot on the stove, and had soup in about 30 minutes.
I froze a bunch of it, too, for nights when I'm sick of mac n cheese. You're welcome. Stay tuned for more Crap in a Crockpot recipes.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
When the Tears Won't Stop
I'm in a super crappy mood today. (And don't even say, "What else is new?" This is on top of any regular moodiness.) I'm frustrated, my patience is at an all time low, and I'm in a ton of pain (kidneys again) and tired from not sleeping in several days (pain). Moose is making me crazy, despite a good start to the day with breakfast at IHOP, and all I really want to do is crawl in bed and sleep for 3 days. Today is my dad's birthday, a day that tortured me every year for the last 7 years. He would have been 59 years old today, a young retiree, enjoying life. But he's not.
This is definitely not a feel good post. This is a post about awareness. You see, I lost my dad, an Army officer and combat veteran, to suicide only a few years after he retired. He had struggled all his life with alcoholism and bipolar disorder, and finally the perfect storm was created when in 2004, he ended his life near his Florida home.
I have many fond memories of my dad, although I suppose not everyone could say the same. On the surface, he was a highly intelligent man, with a lot of rules and a short temper. But he was my DAD. He loved me fiercely, always did what he thought was the right thing by me, and taught me so much. He was far from perfect, but he's the only dad I had, and that was good enough. He loved boating, scuba diving and camping (often all together). He was a great soldier. His temper was something of a family legend, and he could just as easily be the life of the party. We all knew he had problems with depression, and later I knew he struggled a lot with memories from his time in a combat zone. I will never know why he took his own life. In my eyes, nothing could ever be THAT bad. But I also know that many of the vets I've met struggle with PTSD and it can be crippling.
We are fortunate that awareness is now on the rise. Nearly 8 years ago, PTSD was not yet a commonly known term, and the stigma associated with a diagnosis was steep. Especially among our veteran populations, PTSD, depression, and suicide ideation went untreated and unnoticed (and there was a lot of providers turning the other cheek.) About 4 years ago, the VA (Veterans Affairs) created a special crisis line that has helped to save over 18,000 veterans since it's inception. As tempting as it is to say it's too little too late, that would be extremely selfish. It may have been too late to save our family from this unending and crippling pain/grief, but even one life saved in this battle is a victory. I could spew facts about Veteran and Active Duty suicides at you all day long, but I'll save that for another time, when my head and heart are in a better place. Today is one of 3 days a year that I allow my grief to consume me. (The other is my birthday....also the anniversary of the last time I saw my dad before his death, and the anniversary of his death. Holidays are extremely difficult, too, but these 3 are the worst.)
For a great article, published today (of all days) on The Huffington Post: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/03/08/veterans-crisis-line_n_1322423.html?page=1
Believe it or not, I've had people say to me that I should just be grateful for the time he had here on Earth, and that I was well into adulthood when he passed. To those morons, I have a few choice words. There is so much he missed out on, like my wedding, the birth of Moose, watching her grow, just being here because I need him. There is something different about the grief you feel when you lose a loved one to a senseless act. The hole is deeper, more raw. So today, I'm going to wallow in my pit of grief, be miserable, and generally unpleasant to be around. It's a lot harder with my husband gone. He is such a rock for me when I have days like this, ready to help me however I need it, even to get Moose out of the house and give me some space. Except last year. Last year he managed to pull duty on both my dad's birthday and his death anniversary. Yes, I'm still bitter.
Please, if you or someone you care about is in trouble or just needs to talk to someone, the Veterans Crisis Line can be reached at 1-800-273-TALK (8255) or http://veteranscrisisline.net/ or text message 838255. I don't want anyone to ever feel this pain that I feel today. You can get help. You don't have to be afraid or ashamed.
Also, please visit the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention to learn more about how we are working with the government and health care providers to eliminate the stigma and promote services to all armed services veterans. www.afsp.org
This is definitely not a feel good post. This is a post about awareness. You see, I lost my dad, an Army officer and combat veteran, to suicide only a few years after he retired. He had struggled all his life with alcoholism and bipolar disorder, and finally the perfect storm was created when in 2004, he ended his life near his Florida home.
I have many fond memories of my dad, although I suppose not everyone could say the same. On the surface, he was a highly intelligent man, with a lot of rules and a short temper. But he was my DAD. He loved me fiercely, always did what he thought was the right thing by me, and taught me so much. He was far from perfect, but he's the only dad I had, and that was good enough. He loved boating, scuba diving and camping (often all together). He was a great soldier. His temper was something of a family legend, and he could just as easily be the life of the party. We all knew he had problems with depression, and later I knew he struggled a lot with memories from his time in a combat zone. I will never know why he took his own life. In my eyes, nothing could ever be THAT bad. But I also know that many of the vets I've met struggle with PTSD and it can be crippling.
We are fortunate that awareness is now on the rise. Nearly 8 years ago, PTSD was not yet a commonly known term, and the stigma associated with a diagnosis was steep. Especially among our veteran populations, PTSD, depression, and suicide ideation went untreated and unnoticed (and there was a lot of providers turning the other cheek.) About 4 years ago, the VA (Veterans Affairs) created a special crisis line that has helped to save over 18,000 veterans since it's inception. As tempting as it is to say it's too little too late, that would be extremely selfish. It may have been too late to save our family from this unending and crippling pain/grief, but even one life saved in this battle is a victory. I could spew facts about Veteran and Active Duty suicides at you all day long, but I'll save that for another time, when my head and heart are in a better place. Today is one of 3 days a year that I allow my grief to consume me. (The other is my birthday....also the anniversary of the last time I saw my dad before his death, and the anniversary of his death. Holidays are extremely difficult, too, but these 3 are the worst.)
For a great article, published today (of all days) on The Huffington Post: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/03/08/veterans-crisis-line_n_1322423.html?page=1
Believe it or not, I've had people say to me that I should just be grateful for the time he had here on Earth, and that I was well into adulthood when he passed. To those morons, I have a few choice words. There is so much he missed out on, like my wedding, the birth of Moose, watching her grow, just being here because I need him. There is something different about the grief you feel when you lose a loved one to a senseless act. The hole is deeper, more raw. So today, I'm going to wallow in my pit of grief, be miserable, and generally unpleasant to be around. It's a lot harder with my husband gone. He is such a rock for me when I have days like this, ready to help me however I need it, even to get Moose out of the house and give me some space. Except last year. Last year he managed to pull duty on both my dad's birthday and his death anniversary. Yes, I'm still bitter.
Please, if you or someone you care about is in trouble or just needs to talk to someone, the Veterans Crisis Line can be reached at 1-800-273-TALK (8255) or http://veteranscrisisline.net/ or text message 838255. I don't want anyone to ever feel this pain that I feel today. You can get help. You don't have to be afraid or ashamed.
Also, please visit the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention to learn more about how we are working with the government and health care providers to eliminate the stigma and promote services to all armed services veterans. www.afsp.org
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Little Crescents from Heaven
I think you all know that I am a contributing writer for Semper Fi Momma. Recently we did a SFM Panel Review for these amazing little things called Eyedews.
Here's a little excerpt from the official panel :
I’m telling everyone about Eyedews! I rarely make time to treat my skin the way I should, and the result is clear: puffy eyes, shadows, lots of fine lines where they shouldn’t be. I tried Eyedews for the first time at the end of an exhausting day of work and allergies. I was amazed by how they reduced the swelling under my eyes and tightened up the skin, smoothing the wrinkles, and I felt so decadent while wearing them! I tried them straight out of the refrigerator a few days later, same stunning result…but a little better! I noticed by my third pair in about a week’s time, the results were getting better with each application and lasting longer, too! As a busy mom, wife, and business owner, I have limited time for pampering, but my Eyedews are quick and easy. I always have time to treat myself now.
I was only allowed 100-150 words, which was clearly NOT enough to describe the experience! I have to offer my disclaimer, I was not paid by Eyedews or SFM for this review, except in years taken off my face by this three-pack of miracles. :-D
So, I received my Eyedews in the mail and couldn't wait to try them. You know I haven't slept much at all these last several weeks. When I do fall asleep, I get woken up soon thereafter. Combined with allergy season that is upon us in Southern California, and the fact that my stress level has been through the roof....well, I have been carrying extra luggage under these eyes. (When my father-in-law Skypes with me and says I look tired, you know it's bad. But I still love him!) My eyes have been SO puffy, swollen, red, shadowed, you name it...and I'm getting those little fine lines around my eyes, too. I also happen to have very sensitive skin that breaks out the moment I mention a new product, but with the Eyedews, I wasn't worried. Very safe, soothing, natural ingredients, and BONUS: collagen!!!
A few nights after they arrived, I finally got Moose in bed at a decent hour, without me, and had some time to relax. PERFECT! I tore into the little package to discover these little things that look like minature chicken cutlets (ladies, you know what I mean) and that felt smooth, silky and cool. Well, I slapped those babies right under my eyes and had a moment...I swear, it was instant! I left them on for about 20 minutes, and caught up on some of my DVR shows. Then I flipped them up to the top of my eyelids for a little lift. When I removed them (I really didn't want to), I had to go check the results in the mirror...I'd have taken pictures, except I was pretty scary at the time...anyway, seriously amazing results in only half an hour. I had no more puffiness, the thin lines were noticeably less noticeable, and I looked AWAKE for the first time in weeks. I was a believer! And a bonus that they are so easy to use and apply!
There is a little card of "suggestions" that will come with your Eyedews...apparently some people like them straight out of the refrigerator, so I thought, "What the heck? Everything is better cold, right?" And when I used eyedews for a second time a few mornings later, they felt SOOOO good! And the results were even better. The more I used these wonderful, magical delights, the better they worked. I was sad when I was down to my last pair, so I really relished that time and took a nice long bubble bath while Moose was at school. I soaked, enjoyed my Eyedews, and watched movies on Netflix. It was divine, but now I need to order more. I'm hooked.
Speaking of ordering more, if you visit the panel review over at Semper Fi Momma (http://www.semperfimomma.com/2012/02/sfm-panel-review-eyedews/) there are some codes valid through tomorrow to help score you some FREE Eyedews! Seriously, you have to check these out. They are amazing. If I could wrap my whole body in Eyedews, I would. So go, check them out. I am going to be recommending them to all my clients from now on!
Here's a little excerpt from the official panel :
I’m telling everyone about Eyedews! I rarely make time to treat my skin the way I should, and the result is clear: puffy eyes, shadows, lots of fine lines where they shouldn’t be. I tried Eyedews for the first time at the end of an exhausting day of work and allergies. I was amazed by how they reduced the swelling under my eyes and tightened up the skin, smoothing the wrinkles, and I felt so decadent while wearing them! I tried them straight out of the refrigerator a few days later, same stunning result…but a little better! I noticed by my third pair in about a week’s time, the results were getting better with each application and lasting longer, too! As a busy mom, wife, and business owner, I have limited time for pampering, but my Eyedews are quick and easy. I always have time to treat myself now.
I was only allowed 100-150 words, which was clearly NOT enough to describe the experience! I have to offer my disclaimer, I was not paid by Eyedews or SFM for this review, except in years taken off my face by this three-pack of miracles. :-D
So, I received my Eyedews in the mail and couldn't wait to try them. You know I haven't slept much at all these last several weeks. When I do fall asleep, I get woken up soon thereafter. Combined with allergy season that is upon us in Southern California, and the fact that my stress level has been through the roof....well, I have been carrying extra luggage under these eyes. (When my father-in-law Skypes with me and says I look tired, you know it's bad. But I still love him!) My eyes have been SO puffy, swollen, red, shadowed, you name it...and I'm getting those little fine lines around my eyes, too. I also happen to have very sensitive skin that breaks out the moment I mention a new product, but with the Eyedews, I wasn't worried. Very safe, soothing, natural ingredients, and BONUS: collagen!!!
A few nights after they arrived, I finally got Moose in bed at a decent hour, without me, and had some time to relax. PERFECT! I tore into the little package to discover these little things that look like minature chicken cutlets (ladies, you know what I mean) and that felt smooth, silky and cool. Well, I slapped those babies right under my eyes and had a moment...I swear, it was instant! I left them on for about 20 minutes, and caught up on some of my DVR shows. Then I flipped them up to the top of my eyelids for a little lift. When I removed them (I really didn't want to), I had to go check the results in the mirror...I'd have taken pictures, except I was pretty scary at the time...anyway, seriously amazing results in only half an hour. I had no more puffiness, the thin lines were noticeably less noticeable, and I looked AWAKE for the first time in weeks. I was a believer! And a bonus that they are so easy to use and apply!
There is a little card of "suggestions" that will come with your Eyedews...apparently some people like them straight out of the refrigerator, so I thought, "What the heck? Everything is better cold, right?" And when I used eyedews for a second time a few mornings later, they felt SOOOO good! And the results were even better. The more I used these wonderful, magical delights, the better they worked. I was sad when I was down to my last pair, so I really relished that time and took a nice long bubble bath while Moose was at school. I soaked, enjoyed my Eyedews, and watched movies on Netflix. It was divine, but now I need to order more. I'm hooked.
Speaking of ordering more, if you visit the panel review over at Semper Fi Momma (http://www.semperfimomma.com/2012/02/sfm-panel-review-eyedews/) there are some codes valid through tomorrow to help score you some FREE Eyedews! Seriously, you have to check these out. They are amazing. If I could wrap my whole body in Eyedews, I would. So go, check them out. I am going to be recommending them to all my clients from now on!
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Yes, I'm an Officer's Wife...So?
Maybe you caught my annoyance in my post from last week about what it is really like to be a military wife. I'm tired of the stereotypes that surround our active duty spousehood (and for you reserve/NG spouses, too). I admit, a lot of life is who you know, in any occupation. However, that does not automatically make us snotty, elitist, *insert your adjective of choice here* people.
Yes, I belong to the Officers' Wives' Club. Do you want to know why? Sure, it's so we can talk about how we like to spend our husband's huge, fat paycheck. (myth) We also like to sit there and ridicule anyone who we outrank. (myth) Sometimes, we just like to sit there and sip our wine and snarl at enlisted spouses who happen to tragically cross our path. (myth) Most of the time, we just brag about our husband's service record and how many medals and ribbons he's received. (myth)
No, I joined the OWC to connect with other military spouses that, like me, have to move every few years and make new friends and connections. I joined so I have other women to hang out with who understand what it is like to say "goodbye" for MONTHS at a time. And yes, I joined because they have a wine social every month before the main meeting begins. We're not a bunch of bitchy, rich women, who like to shop and look down our noses at others. We do not wear our husband's rank. That's his rank, not mine. And, if you'd really like, you can look up how much our husbands make online. It's probably a LOT less than you think. We don't get special treatment at the commissary or the exchange. We don't criticize others ruthlessly. In other words, we aren't anything like the stereotypes most people associate with "Officer's Wife". My husband has well over a decade of service, and I've been married to him for nearly half of that, and I admit there are still things that I don't know, and that sometimes I need help or to talk to a person who understands.
What we are: helpful, reliable, outgoing, adaptable, caring, ready to reach out to help a stranger, and strong. We are here to support ANY other military spouse as he or she goes through any of the many struggles associated with this life. We have strong shoulders and backbones. And big smiles (usually). We roll with the punches, even when the hits keep coming.
Will you occasionally run into an exception? Sure, but you know...that spouse is probably having a bad day, or really just needs someone to offer a little help or a listening ear. That is one thing we don't get enough of in this lifestyle. I have friends across all the branches, married to spouses of all ranks. And I would never treat a single one of them differently from any other. A friend is A FRIEND. We are all people. I guess that's what I'd really like more of the world to remember. Treat others the way you'd like to be treated, and give people the benefit of the doubt. Don't judge a book by its cover. Yada yada. OK, I'm done with my inspirational bullshit.
But the reverse also goes...if you are rude or unwelcoming to me, don't expect me to grin and roll out the red carpet. I've had that happen, as well, upon my marital status being revealed. The point is, I don't care who you are, I will treat you as a friend until you give me a reason to do otherwise. Then I'll probably just ignore you or wash my hands of it. Your loss and all.
So anyway, tirade over. Wanna come have a pina colada?
Yes, I belong to the Officers' Wives' Club. Do you want to know why? Sure, it's so we can talk about how we like to spend our husband's huge, fat paycheck. (myth) We also like to sit there and ridicule anyone who we outrank. (myth) Sometimes, we just like to sit there and sip our wine and snarl at enlisted spouses who happen to tragically cross our path. (myth) Most of the time, we just brag about our husband's service record and how many medals and ribbons he's received. (myth)
No, I joined the OWC to connect with other military spouses that, like me, have to move every few years and make new friends and connections. I joined so I have other women to hang out with who understand what it is like to say "goodbye" for MONTHS at a time. And yes, I joined because they have a wine social every month before the main meeting begins. We're not a bunch of bitchy, rich women, who like to shop and look down our noses at others. We do not wear our husband's rank. That's his rank, not mine. And, if you'd really like, you can look up how much our husbands make online. It's probably a LOT less than you think. We don't get special treatment at the commissary or the exchange. We don't criticize others ruthlessly. In other words, we aren't anything like the stereotypes most people associate with "Officer's Wife". My husband has well over a decade of service, and I've been married to him for nearly half of that, and I admit there are still things that I don't know, and that sometimes I need help or to talk to a person who understands.
What we are: helpful, reliable, outgoing, adaptable, caring, ready to reach out to help a stranger, and strong. We are here to support ANY other military spouse as he or she goes through any of the many struggles associated with this life. We have strong shoulders and backbones. And big smiles (usually). We roll with the punches, even when the hits keep coming.
Will you occasionally run into an exception? Sure, but you know...that spouse is probably having a bad day, or really just needs someone to offer a little help or a listening ear. That is one thing we don't get enough of in this lifestyle. I have friends across all the branches, married to spouses of all ranks. And I would never treat a single one of them differently from any other. A friend is A FRIEND. We are all people. I guess that's what I'd really like more of the world to remember. Treat others the way you'd like to be treated, and give people the benefit of the doubt. Don't judge a book by its cover. Yada yada. OK, I'm done with my inspirational bullshit.
But the reverse also goes...if you are rude or unwelcoming to me, don't expect me to grin and roll out the red carpet. I've had that happen, as well, upon my marital status being revealed. The point is, I don't care who you are, I will treat you as a friend until you give me a reason to do otherwise. Then I'll probably just ignore you or wash my hands of it. Your loss and all.
So anyway, tirade over. Wanna come have a pina colada?
She Did It!
Moose earned her trip to Disneyland. It was my poor planning to go on Leap Day...apparently all of the western hemisphere had the same idea. Oh well. We had a great time anyway! Did you know that for current active duty military, you can buy a Park Hopper ticket for $99 and come two more days? So now we have tickets to go twice more. Parking at $15 still sucks, but at least they provide free shuttles, and the drivers are REALLY friendly and helful!
We started our day with the Minnie and Friends Breakfast at the Plaza Inn. HIGHLY recommend this experience! Totally worth $37.88 for the two of us. I will do it every time we go. Here's Moose's face when she saw her first character arrive, Wendy from Peter Pan:
We started our day with the Minnie and Friends Breakfast at the Plaza Inn. HIGHLY recommend this experience! Totally worth $37.88 for the two of us. I will do it every time we go. Here's Moose's face when she saw her first character arrive, Wendy from Peter Pan:
She almost cried, she was so excited. Then she was totally tongue-tied. I think she was a little starstruck. Then she was able to meet Captain Hook, Tigger, Eeyore, Chip, and Minnie herself! There were other characters wandering around, but she wasn't too interested in those. The characters make a HUGE effort to visit with each table, and the food was pretty good! I'd rate the whole breakfast a 8.5/10, only docking points because they didn't have pancakes.
After we ate, we went to do a few rides. The teacups, Dumbo, carousel, and It's A Small World (Moose LOVED this one!) We really wanted to see Rapunzel, but can you imagine waiting in line for 75 minutes with a 3 year old? No, neither can I. We did do the Princess Fantasy Faire or whatever it's called. She got to meet Ariel, Cinderella and Snow White, and have pictures taken with each of them, which I'll be buying, of course. My point and shoot camera decided to completely fail me yesterday. Time for a new one.
Here are a few I took....
It was freezing yesterday, therefore the shirt under her princess gown. She was pretty disappointed we didn't see Belle anywhere. But I told her there is always next time. We had a total meltdown when we left, but we were both exhausted. But, this mommy survived it, and lived to tell the tale. We'll be going again soon, I think. I enjoyed it as much as she did!
Saturday, February 25, 2012
What it is really like to be a military wife
I don't care what your preconceived notions of a military spouse are...throw them out the window. I'm tired of hearing them. (Especially those about officer wives. They just are not true.) Unless you know a good-sized group of military spouses...you really don't know and don't understand what it is like. I hope that I'm able to give a good glimpse into our life with the United States Marine Corps, but I know I am just ONE spouse. We are alike, and we are different. We come from all over the world, have different religious and educational backgrounds, have different opinions on parenting, and more. But we all share one common thread: we love someone in the military, and we have chosen this life for our family.
Yes, it was a choice. Regardless of when our spouse entered service. But it was not an easy choice. Nor is it an easy life. I have lived with the military family lifestyle in one form or another my entire life. But yesterday I was reminded of how hard it is for a young woman embarking on her military journey with her soon-to-be husband. A bride called me, from many states away, and is in the process of planning her wedding to her deployed Marine. They plan to be wed shortly after he gets home this summer. We talked a lot about the photography for her wedding day, and then we started talking about life in the Corps.
She's 15 years younger than I am, and facing the daunting task of setting up a household for her husband's return. Here's the catch: the military doesn't recognize a fiancee. You don't matter until you're married. She's moving her entire life out here, thousands of miles from home, with no idea of where they will live (can't apply for base housing until after the wedding). That's only one of many things this young woman has on her plate, in addition to the wedding planning. They've been together for more than 2 years, and she just can't wait to be with her man, no matter what it takes. Now THAT is sacrifice, my friends. I'd be overwhelmed by everything she has going on, let alone when I was a young 20-something. I admire her strength and courage. Us military spouses have a lot of both. We have to.
This morning on the phone, I was talking to a family member, and she said, "I don't know how you do it." Well, you just do it. Sure, it's hard to say goodbye to your husband, to not hear from him, to watch your daughter cry out for him at night. All while managing the house, my business, and trying to take care of myself. It's hard to pack up your home every 3 years and move away from your friends, school, and your comfort zone. It's hard to be told you're moving to XYZ when that is the last place in the world you want to live. But we do it with a smile (and maybe a little griping to our military wife friends who understand.) We know that as tough as things might be, we always have our military spouse friends to support us. To help us out. We take care of our own. That's all there is to it. I was happy to help that bride with all her questions yesterday, and I meant it when I told her to call me anytime. And someday, when she's a "seasoned" spouse, I know she'll pay it forward. That is just what we do.
The next time you meet a military spouse, thank her (or him) for their service. Ask them what you can do to help. Or simply just smile. That smile can go a long way and maybe even turn their whole day around.
Yes, it was a choice. Regardless of when our spouse entered service. But it was not an easy choice. Nor is it an easy life. I have lived with the military family lifestyle in one form or another my entire life. But yesterday I was reminded of how hard it is for a young woman embarking on her military journey with her soon-to-be husband. A bride called me, from many states away, and is in the process of planning her wedding to her deployed Marine. They plan to be wed shortly after he gets home this summer. We talked a lot about the photography for her wedding day, and then we started talking about life in the Corps.
She's 15 years younger than I am, and facing the daunting task of setting up a household for her husband's return. Here's the catch: the military doesn't recognize a fiancee. You don't matter until you're married. She's moving her entire life out here, thousands of miles from home, with no idea of where they will live (can't apply for base housing until after the wedding). That's only one of many things this young woman has on her plate, in addition to the wedding planning. They've been together for more than 2 years, and she just can't wait to be with her man, no matter what it takes. Now THAT is sacrifice, my friends. I'd be overwhelmed by everything she has going on, let alone when I was a young 20-something. I admire her strength and courage. Us military spouses have a lot of both. We have to.
This morning on the phone, I was talking to a family member, and she said, "I don't know how you do it." Well, you just do it. Sure, it's hard to say goodbye to your husband, to not hear from him, to watch your daughter cry out for him at night. All while managing the house, my business, and trying to take care of myself. It's hard to pack up your home every 3 years and move away from your friends, school, and your comfort zone. It's hard to be told you're moving to XYZ when that is the last place in the world you want to live. But we do it with a smile (and maybe a little griping to our military wife friends who understand.) We know that as tough as things might be, we always have our military spouse friends to support us. To help us out. We take care of our own. That's all there is to it. I was happy to help that bride with all her questions yesterday, and I meant it when I told her to call me anytime. And someday, when she's a "seasoned" spouse, I know she'll pay it forward. That is just what we do.
The next time you meet a military spouse, thank her (or him) for their service. Ask them what you can do to help. Or simply just smile. That smile can go a long way and maybe even turn their whole day around.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
A Really Boring Update
To make up for the long holiday weekend, the last two days have been CRAZY here. That's after I already had a busy weekend. And from the looks of it, things aren't slowing down for a few more weeks. (I'm not sure if I am looking forward to or dreading the trip to Disneyland next week....but she's earned it.)
On the school front: yesterday I toured a backup school, just in case. I'm kind of a tough cookie to impress, but always Moose makes the final call. The school was clean enough, and the staff friendly, etc., but Moose clearly didn't like it. She is usually a very social little thing, and she just wanted to be held the entire tour, and kept asking if it was time to go. She didn't even explore the toys and activities in the classroom. HUGE red flag right there. So, I'm extra glad that her school's director has found a way to keep the school open, and if we have to cross that bridge later...we will.
Today, Moose had her first deployment support group for kids her age. She did very well, and I'm quite proud. (Not so impressed with the glitter glue mess, I mean ART, she brought home. I don't do glitter so well.) I am hoping that this is a way to make her feel connected to other kids going through the same thing, and not so alone. Her behavior has been mostly much better this week, even though after a long weekend we were both ready for a break from one another.
I had a doc's appointment this morning...same old, same old. Time to navigate the military health system again. So freaking annoying, when they want to refer me out to a base 45 minutes away just so that they can confirm they don't provide the services I need, and bump the referral back out to my primary physician to find a civilian provider for me. For all of you fans of Obamacare...talk to a military family to find out what it's like to have a government regulated healthcare system, then let me know what you think. Yes, I am extremely grateful that we have the coverage we do, but sometimes the number of hoops and delays you endure is just too much. (Or being told to cancel/reschedule the surgery to remove CANCER from your body, because some idiot in data processing screwed up your referral paperwork....don't get me started on that. They told me to reschedule, or just pay out of pocket and get reimbursed, 12 hours before my surgery. Yeah, let me write you a check.... you said about $40,000?)
Sorry, random vent and ramble off topic there. (Do I have a clear topic this post?) The rest of the day was busy, clearly, and Moose has her ballet class in the morning. Then we're off to the library to get a new set of books. I already feel like a soccer mom. If it's like this at 3.5, what is 13 going to be like???? Anyway, I'm working on getting back to my usual self and routine. I'm writing again, including my guest posts. I have some work to catch up on, and so far, tomorrow is looking good for that. It makes me feel good to have a clear sense of what I need to do without being completely overwhelmed.
On the school front: yesterday I toured a backup school, just in case. I'm kind of a tough cookie to impress, but always Moose makes the final call. The school was clean enough, and the staff friendly, etc., but Moose clearly didn't like it. She is usually a very social little thing, and she just wanted to be held the entire tour, and kept asking if it was time to go. She didn't even explore the toys and activities in the classroom. HUGE red flag right there. So, I'm extra glad that her school's director has found a way to keep the school open, and if we have to cross that bridge later...we will.
Today, Moose had her first deployment support group for kids her age. She did very well, and I'm quite proud. (Not so impressed with the glitter glue mess, I mean ART, she brought home. I don't do glitter so well.) I am hoping that this is a way to make her feel connected to other kids going through the same thing, and not so alone. Her behavior has been mostly much better this week, even though after a long weekend we were both ready for a break from one another.
I had a doc's appointment this morning...same old, same old. Time to navigate the military health system again. So freaking annoying, when they want to refer me out to a base 45 minutes away just so that they can confirm they don't provide the services I need, and bump the referral back out to my primary physician to find a civilian provider for me. For all of you fans of Obamacare...talk to a military family to find out what it's like to have a government regulated healthcare system, then let me know what you think. Yes, I am extremely grateful that we have the coverage we do, but sometimes the number of hoops and delays you endure is just too much. (Or being told to cancel/reschedule the surgery to remove CANCER from your body, because some idiot in data processing screwed up your referral paperwork....don't get me started on that. They told me to reschedule, or just pay out of pocket and get reimbursed, 12 hours before my surgery. Yeah, let me write you a check.... you said about $40,000?)
Sorry, random vent and ramble off topic there. (Do I have a clear topic this post?) The rest of the day was busy, clearly, and Moose has her ballet class in the morning. Then we're off to the library to get a new set of books. I already feel like a soccer mom. If it's like this at 3.5, what is 13 going to be like???? Anyway, I'm working on getting back to my usual self and routine. I'm writing again, including my guest posts. I have some work to catch up on, and so far, tomorrow is looking good for that. It makes me feel good to have a clear sense of what I need to do without being completely overwhelmed.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Monsoon Season is Here
When it rains, it pours, right? It's been one of those weeks.
Today I received some very bad news that Moose's preschool is closing at the end of the month. This is heartbreaking for us, as we love it there. They have been so supportive of us as a family and as we started this deployment. If not for school, I'm not sure Moose's behavior would have turned around after the departure. She has really flourished in this environment. We're so sad to see it end.
And, there is a serious shortage of preschools in our city. Especially because Moose and I are atheists. I thought for a long time about this, and I simply cannot put her in a preschool with a bible-based curriculum. I think that at her age, it is too confusing, and honestly she gets enough make-believe at home. She can learn how to be a good, kind, moral person without tales of God. (I admit, I have very unpopular opinions when it comes to religion...so I understand if you abandon ship now.) Almost all of the preschools here in our area have "Baptist", "Zion", "Lutheran", etc. in the name. I'm simply not comfortable with that, and I'm thinking my husband backs me up here. (He kind of lets me drive the boat when it comes to religion and my child. Technically, he's Catholic, but I don't think he's seen the inside of a church in years. Weddings don't count.)
Sorry, I went off on a tangent. This is about education, not religion. I've spent the last few hours searching for schools and reviews online. I hate that I have to do it this way, but we're in a time crunch and of course it's Presidents' Day weekend, meaning everything is closed tomorrow as well. Grrrr. I'm running into a lot of issues with the tuition of the schools I would prefer. How in the hell is it justified to charge tuition comparable to a private 4-year university (I know, I attended one) for PRESCHOOL. Here it comes.....W. T. F. ?????? Nearly $1000 a month (or more in a few cases) for a 3-day a week program? Oh hell to the no!
Warning: another unpopular opinion lays ahead.... I confess that I am not particularly a fan of public schools. I am very lucky that we have an AMAZING public school right across the street from our development. But I know that in true military fashion, we will be moving at some point after she enters Kindergarten, and who knows what kind of school we will get. I won't get into my whole tirade about public schools. I'll save that for later. Anyway, our public school has an amazing Kindergarten prep program, BUT the catch is, she can't start until August. Not helpful now, for March....
So, what is a family to do? We clearly don't qualify for any kind of tuition assistance, but I don't understand why it should cost a small mortgage payment to ensure a SAFE, productive and loving learning environment for a 3.5 year old. I wish there were more people in the world like Miss D, whom Moose loves, adores, and who has provided a wonderful learning environment for her over the last year, but who also understands that a quality education should be affordable.
I am just ranting now. I have set up a tour of a center/school for next week, but honestly not holding my breath. Either I'll love it and it will be out of our price range, OR it'll be affordable, but I wouldn't send my schnauzer there. I've spent the morning brainstorming ideas, but in the end, we will still miss what we have now.
Sad day. And I cancelled our trip to the desert to handle this. Boo. Maybe if you're all lucky, I'll entertain your with my position on religion and education in their full, unspoiled splendor soon. I'm really worried about how Moose is going to take this. She was just getting back to her normal self. So many upheavals has to be upsetting. Poor babe.
Evening update: The school is going to remain open, but there are some factors that could affect that. We're keeping our fingers crossed that everything will right itself, but I'm going to try to have a backup plan, just in case. I hope we don't need one!!!
Today I received some very bad news that Moose's preschool is closing at the end of the month. This is heartbreaking for us, as we love it there. They have been so supportive of us as a family and as we started this deployment. If not for school, I'm not sure Moose's behavior would have turned around after the departure. She has really flourished in this environment. We're so sad to see it end.
And, there is a serious shortage of preschools in our city. Especially because Moose and I are atheists. I thought for a long time about this, and I simply cannot put her in a preschool with a bible-based curriculum. I think that at her age, it is too confusing, and honestly she gets enough make-believe at home. She can learn how to be a good, kind, moral person without tales of God. (I admit, I have very unpopular opinions when it comes to religion...so I understand if you abandon ship now.) Almost all of the preschools here in our area have "Baptist", "Zion", "Lutheran", etc. in the name. I'm simply not comfortable with that, and I'm thinking my husband backs me up here. (He kind of lets me drive the boat when it comes to religion and my child. Technically, he's Catholic, but I don't think he's seen the inside of a church in years. Weddings don't count.)
Sorry, I went off on a tangent. This is about education, not religion. I've spent the last few hours searching for schools and reviews online. I hate that I have to do it this way, but we're in a time crunch and of course it's Presidents' Day weekend, meaning everything is closed tomorrow as well. Grrrr. I'm running into a lot of issues with the tuition of the schools I would prefer. How in the hell is it justified to charge tuition comparable to a private 4-year university (I know, I attended one) for PRESCHOOL. Here it comes.....W. T. F. ?????? Nearly $1000 a month (or more in a few cases) for a 3-day a week program? Oh hell to the no!
Warning: another unpopular opinion lays ahead.... I confess that I am not particularly a fan of public schools. I am very lucky that we have an AMAZING public school right across the street from our development. But I know that in true military fashion, we will be moving at some point after she enters Kindergarten, and who knows what kind of school we will get. I won't get into my whole tirade about public schools. I'll save that for later. Anyway, our public school has an amazing Kindergarten prep program, BUT the catch is, she can't start until August. Not helpful now, for March....
So, what is a family to do? We clearly don't qualify for any kind of tuition assistance, but I don't understand why it should cost a small mortgage payment to ensure a SAFE, productive and loving learning environment for a 3.5 year old. I wish there were more people in the world like Miss D, whom Moose loves, adores, and who has provided a wonderful learning environment for her over the last year, but who also understands that a quality education should be affordable.
I am just ranting now. I have set up a tour of a center/school for next week, but honestly not holding my breath. Either I'll love it and it will be out of our price range, OR it'll be affordable, but I wouldn't send my schnauzer there. I've spent the morning brainstorming ideas, but in the end, we will still miss what we have now.
Sad day. And I cancelled our trip to the desert to handle this. Boo. Maybe if you're all lucky, I'll entertain your with my position on religion and education in their full, unspoiled splendor soon. I'm really worried about how Moose is going to take this. She was just getting back to her normal self. So many upheavals has to be upsetting. Poor babe.
Evening update: The school is going to remain open, but there are some factors that could affect that. We're keeping our fingers crossed that everything will right itself, but I'm going to try to have a backup plan, just in case. I hope we don't need one!!!
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Negative Nancy at the Helm!
I openly admit that the last two weeks I have been a total Debbie Downer. Hence the reason I have not been posting. I can't say it's the deployment getting me down, per se, but rather some of the fallout. We're not big Valentines Day people, but at the very least we always exchanged cards, went out to dinner, and I usually got some chocolates and flowers. But not this year. It's also ramping up into a very difficult time of year for me...my dad's birthday is coming soon, as well as our anniversary and my birthday. I struggle so much with these three dates, and they are all over the course of about a month. Why do I have such a tough time? Well obviously, I miss my dad, and his birthday is a reminder that another year has passed without him. Our anniversary: well, he never met my husband or my daughter, and that pains me. And my birthday: the last time I saw him was on my 27th birthday. That is usually all I can think about on my actual birthdays: how much time has passed since he left us. It's shitty to have to go through that timeframe alone, even though I cope on my own most of the time...it's a comfort to know that I have that shoulder to cry on when I need it.
So yes, I am in a funk. I'm sad. I'm tired and running on virtually no sleep. I've been busy, and things are getting into a routine here, but at night, there is still the battle of getting Moose to sleep in her own bed. The latest: we're afraid of shadows. And goblins. (So help me, whoever told her a goblin lives in her closet...I'm coming for you.) Every night, I battle for 1-2 hours to get her to go to sleep, and by then I usually just give in and lay down with her because I am drained. Then I wake up, get into my own bed, only to find her crawling in a few hours later. (Always by 2 a.m. I can expect to be used as a pillow.) Then the dogs wake me up to go outside, and by the time I get back to sleep, the alarm is going off. I don't know if this means I need to adjust my personal schedule or what, but SOMETHING has to give.
Anyway, I'm here, but trying to work through this. Fortunately, I have some good distractions planned. We are drawing closer to the Disneyland trip, and it looks like she might actually make it. Lots of hearts, and only a few frowny faces. I also have some girl time coming up with my Officers' Wives' Club members. I promise to come back around soon, with some good news to report. Just gotta get my head back in the game!
So yes, I am in a funk. I'm sad. I'm tired and running on virtually no sleep. I've been busy, and things are getting into a routine here, but at night, there is still the battle of getting Moose to sleep in her own bed. The latest: we're afraid of shadows. And goblins. (So help me, whoever told her a goblin lives in her closet...I'm coming for you.) Every night, I battle for 1-2 hours to get her to go to sleep, and by then I usually just give in and lay down with her because I am drained. Then I wake up, get into my own bed, only to find her crawling in a few hours later. (Always by 2 a.m. I can expect to be used as a pillow.) Then the dogs wake me up to go outside, and by the time I get back to sleep, the alarm is going off. I don't know if this means I need to adjust my personal schedule or what, but SOMETHING has to give.
Anyway, I'm here, but trying to work through this. Fortunately, I have some good distractions planned. We are drawing closer to the Disneyland trip, and it looks like she might actually make it. Lots of hearts, and only a few frowny faces. I also have some girl time coming up with my Officers' Wives' Club members. I promise to come back around soon, with some good news to report. Just gotta get my head back in the game!
Thursday, February 9, 2012
The Second Week is the Hardest (so far)
Let me preface this all by saying that I am fine. I understand why our military deploys. I stand behind it. I even can manage alone for awhile. *gasp* I'm an independent girl and have always been. I cried my few tears at sendoff, and I'm good. I get to talk to my husband pretty much daily. I can cope. However...Moose cannot even begin to comprehend why Daddy can't come home at night like he usually does, or that we can't just call Daddy at work whenever we need to. And THAT, my friends, has been the challenge of this week.
Do you like pina coladas? I do. In fact, I'm enjoying one right now. I'd probably set myself up with an IV drip of rum and pineapple juice, if I had any idea how to run a blender while tethered to an IV pole. (I bet you think I'm kidding right now.) It's just been that kind of week.
I wish I could explain why it's been so bad, but I really can't. It's a culmination of things: me not sleeping well at all (I think I've had 10 hours of sleep in the last 3 nights), Moose just NOT understanding why her world has to be tipped upside down, leading to an increase in whining and a decrease in listening, and just general chaos here. In other words, it has been the perfect storm for me to want to throw both hands in the air and say, "I quit!"
Except we can't quit. And as a military spouse, we know it will get better, and that eventually - this, too, shall pass. It is definitely tough on us, but moreso on our little ones. They don't understand why everything has to change all the time. They say kids are resilient, and they are. To an extent. You start screwing with their foundations (i.e. home and parents), then things are going to be off kilter for awhile. I just hope that this phase will pass quickly. This is uncharted territory for me: deployment with a small child.
But for tonight, I will be ignoring the dog whining to go out every 10 minutes (he thinks he needs to secure the perimeter), and I'm just going to let Moose pass out on the couch then put her in bed. I am enjoying a dinner of pina coladas and samoa cookies. (Did I mention I am allergic to coconut? This could get interesting, but I dosed myself with antihistamines, because I desperately need my coconut comfort food right now.) And I'm going to spend the rest of my evening imagining I am somewhere like this:
Do you like pina coladas? I do. In fact, I'm enjoying one right now. I'd probably set myself up with an IV drip of rum and pineapple juice, if I had any idea how to run a blender while tethered to an IV pole. (I bet you think I'm kidding right now.) It's just been that kind of week.
I wish I could explain why it's been so bad, but I really can't. It's a culmination of things: me not sleeping well at all (I think I've had 10 hours of sleep in the last 3 nights), Moose just NOT understanding why her world has to be tipped upside down, leading to an increase in whining and a decrease in listening, and just general chaos here. In other words, it has been the perfect storm for me to want to throw both hands in the air and say, "I quit!"
Except we can't quit. And as a military spouse, we know it will get better, and that eventually - this, too, shall pass. It is definitely tough on us, but moreso on our little ones. They don't understand why everything has to change all the time. They say kids are resilient, and they are. To an extent. You start screwing with their foundations (i.e. home and parents), then things are going to be off kilter for awhile. I just hope that this phase will pass quickly. This is uncharted territory for me: deployment with a small child.
But for tonight, I will be ignoring the dog whining to go out every 10 minutes (he thinks he needs to secure the perimeter), and I'm just going to let Moose pass out on the couch then put her in bed. I am enjoying a dinner of pina coladas and samoa cookies. (Did I mention I am allergic to coconut? This could get interesting, but I dosed myself with antihistamines, because I desperately need my coconut comfort food right now.) And I'm going to spend the rest of my evening imagining I am somewhere like this:
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
For the Love of Skype
Back when I was a kid, and my dad was deployed, we didn't have email, satellite phones, or computers at all. (Unless you count my old Atari that had 5" floppy boot disks!) We received a letter every month or so, taking weeks and weeks to reach us. Maybe a phone call once a month. Often, he would record cassette tapes and mail those to us. (I loved that!) If you're asking yourself what a cassette tape is...it was an archaic form of sound recording before CDs and MP3s. Ask your parents.
Anyway, communication was brief. We usually got disconnected on phone calls. There was no guarantee that he'd be able to call us for birthdays, holidays, etc. Mail was also frequently lost. Even in the early days of OIF and OEF, communication was sparse compared to how we have it now. We can use facebook chat, email, snail mail (takes 6-7 days on average) and our personal favorite: Skype.
If you're not familiar with Skype...you should be! Skype allows you to instant message, voice and video call. FOR FREE. It's amazing. And there are multiple apps out there. We have Skype installed on all our computers, my Android tablet, and even my Droid phone. So I never miss a call or IM. Sure, I still sleep with the phone and my cell next to the bed, just in case of emergency, but our primary form of communication is Skype.
Moose's first Skype date with her daddy was great. She was so excited. She talked about it all day before. (We have to schedule our video chats somewhat, based upon the time change and the peak internet use hours at his location.) Moose has really missed her daddy. Like A LOT. And being able to see him made all the difference in the world. She was able to be silly with daddy, make faces, and even draw a picture to show him. We can't forget our furbabies....they are able to get in on the action, too! After a Skype session, Moose talks about it, and you can see how happy she was to be able to see Daddy, and not just hear his voice.
Skype is a free program and download. You *can* buy credits to use Skype to call regular phones, but for the free service all you both need is an account. I can already tell the ability to communicate almost daily is going to make a huge difference in this deployment for us. And it's super easy, so even those who are tech-challenged can do it!
www.skype.com
I was not paid by, asked by, endorsed by Skype. This is just an honest-to-goodness thankful Mommy who is so glad her baby girl can SEE her Daddy while he's gone!
Anyway, communication was brief. We usually got disconnected on phone calls. There was no guarantee that he'd be able to call us for birthdays, holidays, etc. Mail was also frequently lost. Even in the early days of OIF and OEF, communication was sparse compared to how we have it now. We can use facebook chat, email, snail mail (takes 6-7 days on average) and our personal favorite: Skype.
If you're not familiar with Skype...you should be! Skype allows you to instant message, voice and video call. FOR FREE. It's amazing. And there are multiple apps out there. We have Skype installed on all our computers, my Android tablet, and even my Droid phone. So I never miss a call or IM. Sure, I still sleep with the phone and my cell next to the bed, just in case of emergency, but our primary form of communication is Skype.
Moose's first Skype date with her daddy was great. She was so excited. She talked about it all day before. (We have to schedule our video chats somewhat, based upon the time change and the peak internet use hours at his location.) Moose has really missed her daddy. Like A LOT. And being able to see him made all the difference in the world. She was able to be silly with daddy, make faces, and even draw a picture to show him. We can't forget our furbabies....they are able to get in on the action, too! After a Skype session, Moose talks about it, and you can see how happy she was to be able to see Daddy, and not just hear his voice.
Skype is a free program and download. You *can* buy credits to use Skype to call regular phones, but for the free service all you both need is an account. I can already tell the ability to communicate almost daily is going to make a huge difference in this deployment for us. And it's super easy, so even those who are tech-challenged can do it!
www.skype.com
I was not paid by, asked by, endorsed by Skype. This is just an honest-to-goodness thankful Mommy who is so glad her baby girl can SEE her Daddy while he's gone!
Excuse the Mess
I've been working like crazy with my clients on some projects the last week, since I started this blog officially, and I just simply haven't had the time to get in here and make it all pretty like I'd planned. I'm hoping that I will be able to tackle it this week, especially as we have some rainy days today and tomorrow, but as always: paying work trumps nonpaying work.
Speaking of messes: I'm a hot one today. I didn't sleep worth a damn last night, or the night before, or the night before that....and so on, and it's starting to show. I have bags under my eyes that could be mistaken for the luggage of a family of 4 going to Disneyland for a week. I'd love a nap, but even those are pointless because they are always interrupted or I feel incredibly guilty after the fact that I wasn't working. Such is the dilemma of the exhausted business owner/mommy/spouse of a deployed Marine.
I'm going to start adding some flair to this blog, as well as images. I do ask my friends and family this very important favor: If you know us personally, please do not comment, etc. using our real names, last names, and so on. This is very important to me to protect our anonymity and our troops. I will be posting about OPSEC & PERSEC soon, but please respect these wishes. Thank you!
So be on the lookout for some improvements around here in the coming days (or maybe weeks, I'm not making promises when I have enough work deadlines.) I'm also thinking it is time for a physical change of my office space, which I do every few months when I'm feeling creatively stunted or frustrated. Maybe I'll work on that today, since technically this is supposed to be a day off.
Speaking of messes: I'm a hot one today. I didn't sleep worth a damn last night, or the night before, or the night before that....and so on, and it's starting to show. I have bags under my eyes that could be mistaken for the luggage of a family of 4 going to Disneyland for a week. I'd love a nap, but even those are pointless because they are always interrupted or I feel incredibly guilty after the fact that I wasn't working. Such is the dilemma of the exhausted business owner/mommy/spouse of a deployed Marine.
I'm going to start adding some flair to this blog, as well as images. I do ask my friends and family this very important favor: If you know us personally, please do not comment, etc. using our real names, last names, and so on. This is very important to me to protect our anonymity and our troops. I will be posting about OPSEC & PERSEC soon, but please respect these wishes. Thank you!
So be on the lookout for some improvements around here in the coming days (or maybe weeks, I'm not making promises when I have enough work deadlines.) I'm also thinking it is time for a physical change of my office space, which I do every few months when I'm feeling creatively stunted or frustrated. Maybe I'll work on that today, since technically this is supposed to be a day off.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
