Enough

I have fucking had it. I shouldn't be reading Michael Yon's shit online but I was introduced to it by a wife who apparently thinks his shit has relevance. To be honest, I don't read the news, I don't watch the news, and I definitely don't want you to fucking text me to tell me the newest lie you heard on TV about troops coming home by Christmas. I am very sorry to have to tell my fellow Americans this....not everything you see or hear on TV is true. Oh, and practically nothing on the world wide web is accurate either.

I realize some of you are in shock right now and may not be able to continue reading. It's alright. Go back to watching Bravo, it'll make you feel better to watch some rich housewives fight about who came to whose party.

Here in reality, we have Michael Yon.

In his article, "Fool's Gold and Troops' Blood", it basically makes my husband (and all medevac soldiers) sound like a coward and his unit and ALL medevac units inept. Seriously, I realize you are imbedded and all and you 'know what war is' because you are there, but do not bad mouth my husband with your ridiculous insinuations. The Army will not change it's policy and you writing your crap about the Golden Hour and insinuating that pilots have a choice is absurd. My husband is a hero and he will go wherever he is told no matter what the danger to save a soldier or a civilian.

Shame on you, Michael Yon, for trying to belittle my husband's mission. The number of lives saved by my husband's unit is countless and I am damn sure it's more lives saved than your written words.

Bittersweet

Finally received an email from my hubby today, after 4 days. I was getting a little antsy. I know, I know, I can hear Shawn's grandmother now..."Mont was gone for 3 years and I got a written letter about once a month."

Sigh.

Hubby is pretty sad about missing Blake's 9th birthday. 9, really? My kid is NINE?!?!?! Not only is my kid 9, but Thanksgiving is coming up and I have never cooked a turkey. Ever. Shawn does that. I am in a halfway melancholia...the only thing keeping me going right now is the prospect of Christmas in TN with all my brothers, their kids, my mom and my grandparents. Deployment without family close for holidays sucks. As of right now I have no feeling to make Thanksgiving dinner. It just seems so sad at this point to celebrate without Shawn here.

Hopefully next week will be better.

Your kids are your mirror

My son is his father.

It's actually quite hilarious. He seems sulky but actually he's just as happy as can be. He plays alone and is absolutely fine about being alone, he usually prefers it.

He really doesn't talk much, unless he finds something very unusual or interesting or wants to tell a joke. Social situations allude him and it's like pulling teeth to get him to join in.

He conforms to nothing that society might think is odd or unpopular. Yesterday he tried to wear pajama pants to school and looked very confused when I told him to change.

The compromise was that his long black socks were with shorts. Not only did he NOT care, he had no inkling that it may look strange.

Today his socks did not match. It was effortless on his part, finding socks. It was also effortless to put them on.

When I mentioned to him that his socks did not match, he said, quite put out, "You told me to go put socks on."

It's quite endearing, to have 'Shawn' here, although he is far away.

I've called Blake Shawn multiple times, because he looks soooo much like his dad, especially since his Uncle Neil cut his hair the same. But Haydon has Shawn's demeanor, which is even harder to separate.

His teachers call him "Mr. Happy". Too funny.

Influence

I have an amazing friend who blogs all the time and reading it lifts my spirits. Every time I read her posts I feel close to her, as if she doesn't live thousands of miles away. My new goal is to blog more, not only for my husband to read since we have so little time to talk, but also so that my friends who are far may feel closer to me. Aww, sensitive moment, sigh, sniff.

Now on to the nitty gritty shit of life...

We have indirect neighbors who seemed nice when they moved in but, alas, I am not a great judge of character. These kids are assholes, and, with that note, so are their parents (if/then). My direct neighbors have had many encounters with the kids and, yet, the parents are never home to talk to.

A couple of weekends ago Blake was playing with a boy from the street behind us. In NM, we don't have "fences" per say, but block walls, which the kids walk on to move from house to house. This boy's backyard is diagonal to our backyard. One lazy Sunday I was still in my pjs at 3 pm, happily cooking our meals for the week while the kids played in the backyard. My kitchen faces the backyard, so I can see everything that is happening. Of course, I did not see what happened this particular day.

Blake runs into the kitchen: Mom, look how cool this is!

Me: What? It's just a plastic, broken plate with holes in it.

Blake: No! I let my friend shoot it with his pellet gun! Isn't it awesome?

Me: You let WHO DO WHAT?!?!?!?!

Deep breaths. I did not let on to Blake how upset I was. As I looked up I see said child, one year older than Blake, walking the wall back to his house with I can only assume is a rifle. No, it had no orange tip.

So, I find a neighboring adult (not asshole parent) to watch my kids while I walk my happy little ass over to the house of artillery (HOA). When I arrive, I see two older boys, one being an indirect neighbor asshole-child, and the other is the rifle-carrying one's older brother. These two older boys both have pellet guns in the backyard and are shooting them into the sky. In a neighborhood. With homes not 10 ft away. With my 5 year old twins right behind that backyard.

So, more deep breaths and I tell the mom the story. She totally doesn't care. She actually tells me that on their 3rd warning from the police about the guns (b'c they have no orange tips so they look like real rifles) that they mentioned there would be no more warnings and that she would start being fined. Grrreeeaaat.

She then tells her son he is on restriction, and he almost immediately starts throwing a silent fit, kicking things around in the garage, and this is her response to him-

Mom: Don't be so hard on yourself.

Kid: *silently* kicks around more things in garage

Mom: It's over, no one got hurt. It's ok. Don't beat yourself up about it.

Kid: still kicks and hits things in garage

So, I walked home in stunned silence. Stunned.

Later that night I had a talk with Blake and grounded him. I laid it on thick and showed him the plate and asked what his brother or sister might look like with a half-dollar sized hole in them. Finally, he cried and I felt triumphant. Then I went a step further and asked him how he thought his dad would feel if I called him in Afghanistan and told him that his son had let a boy in our yard with a gun...with his little brother and sister outside around that gun. He sobbed.

I felt much better.

I think I may be turning into Kenny Russell. I never once raised my voice. A little scary.

On a happier note I put Blake back into MMA. Just in case he has to kick the kid's ass from the HOA. Just sayin'.

Top 10 things to NOT say to an Army Wife

10. "Since the President is pulling troops out of Afghanistan, will your husband be home early?"

Um, no. What that means is the troops ALREADY SCHEDULED to come home aren't being replaced. So, since he just arrived, he will not be coming home tomorrow.

9. "At least he's not in Iraq."

Really. I didn't realize it was safer in Afghanistan.

8. "I don't know how you do it, that's a long fucking time."

This intended compliment is really annoying. I do it because I have to, I have to stay strong for him to complete his mission and stay focused.

7. "How much longer does he have before he can get out?"

Who the hell knows? I don't, and really don't care, since that is not my top priority right now.

6. "My husband had to go out of town for a week so I TOTALLY know what you're going through."

There's no explanation for this sentence.

5. "You really miss him, huh?"

Actually, no, I never think about him. What a dumb thing to ask.

4. "But he'll get to come home for Christmas, right?"

No, you have seen the news and know the answer. Please stop asking.

3. "I understand, I am a single mom, too."

Yeah, no. Not the same.

2. "Where is that? Is it dangerous?"

I realize that most non-military people might not know where specific places are but maybe you should know that Kandahar is in Afghanistan. Just maybe.

AND THE #1 THING TO NEVER ASK AN ARMY PILOT'S WIFE

"Did you hear on the news about the helicopter crash in Afghanistan...yeah, everyone was killed...what helicopter does your husband fly?"

Sigh

We have been going on-stop and I haven't had time to get to the site. Shawn is doing okay although he says the food is terrible. Apparently one of the boxes I sent arrived covered in ants and some of the food was destroyed. He did not seem as upset as I was.

I am trying to keep the kids busy which means not staying at home which means the house is always trashed. I am sure this also has to do with apathy on my part, since my husband is gone.

Other than that, I am counting down the days until school starts and some other adult can entertain my kids so I don't have to continually think of things to keep them happy and from fighting so I don't end up in the asylum.

The other evening I was at the end of my rope and Maren started screaming BLOODY FRIGGIN MURDER in the backseat so I immediately pull into a parking lot and throw the van in park to yank her out and beat her ass. Turns out she dropped her taco in her lap and it was hot. Yeah. After consoling her (no, I promise I didn't beat her) I get in and throw the van into drive and immediately run over a concrete obstacle in the middle of the parking lot, which I did not see before because of the screaming child. At this point I can barely speak, I get out of the van and try to check to see if anything is wrong with it, but it's 102° out, plus heat rising from the asphalt...so I just threw a fit, jumping up and down, screaming as many expletives as I could muster in the horrid heat. Here's the irony: Approximately 60 days into Shawn's first deployment, when Blake was a baby, I ran the side of my van down the interior wall of a building in Germany. No, I was not drunk, I just could not get the van off the wall once I hit it, the curve was so tight. And then a gate shut behind us and we were locked in the park house for about an hour. But that's another story.

This story ends nicely. There is no damage to the van, it drives fine. I, on the other hand, may end up in the looney bin without prescription meds soon. This is why public school was invented, so mothers would not end up needing electroshock therapy. Although walking around in your robe and slippers all day playing games in your head like Martini seems quite a sweet dream...except for the Nurse Ratched part. Maybe McMurphy will save the day.

Time much?

My mom arrives in 19 days and my house is T-R-A-S-H-E-D. Between now and then I have maybe 2 days where nothing is going on. 2 days! And I want to rearrange my kitchen because it's driving me mad AND I really want someone to buy my dining table to get it out of the house!!!! I am in definite Sagittarius character for rearranging with no one to come home and stare.

Except...my mom is coming and none of the things I want to happen are happening! Maybe if I got OFF MY ASS and off the computer I would get some shit done. Hmm.