We often use 'before and after' as prepositions instead of adverbs in the military.
Before he deployed.
After R&R.
Before training.
After in-processing.
And 'until' becomes awfully important.
Eventually 6 weeks turns into 3 days before he leaves. Eventually that can turn into 3 months until I see him again. After training, before deployment.. we should take a vacation.
'Someday' takes precedence.
Did you know that the offical Scrabble rules say that you cannot use foreign words? See: English-language game of Scrabble, foreign words cannot be placed on the Scrabble board.
Soupir.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Versus
Drawing a line down the center of the paper to deal with the pros and cons is absolutely a good thing to do. If more people did this, I wouldn't have to listen to so many people bitch about their decisions. I could just listen to my own bitching, which I definitely prefer.
I don't actually practice the drawing of a line down the paper physically. I just do it in my head. I like diagrams. I like charts. Mostly I like paper that has been colored or drawn on. Actually, really I like ANYTHING that has been colored or drawn on.
I've gotten off subject.
Ok.
Tomorrow is Monday. And the beginning of an INSANE week. Thank God. We've finally made it to this week. Finally. Even better: I'm damn close to being done packing. As of Tuesday we'll be living out of suitcases and sleeping on our mattress on the floor with sleeping bags.
I've said it before and I'll say it again. I do NOT like it here. I don't really mean to offend any one that does like it here, or any of the truly amazing people that I've met here. But seriously. My head hurts here. My sinuses are weeping. Actually, they're pounding.
If it doesn't rain.. or if it rains lightly, the air turns stagnant in about 2 seconds.. This is not an observation, this is weather channel FACT. Humidity + stagnant air = mold. I'm not talking about the regular mold spores that every day cleaning gets rid of.. I'm talking about the mold that grows naturally in air vents and under carpet and behind my nasty rubber baseboards...the places my property management company says that I'm not supposed to clean because it would mean tearing my house apart.
So I can't breath unless I spend a good chunk of my day outside or just not in my house.. which I can do. Except for those weeks where I'm stuck inside and packing. Not all of the properties that this particular property management company owns are like this, or so I hear. These houses are just really, really old. In fact, their so old that in the next couple years, they're scheduled to be demolished. They've already started tearing down the playgrounds around the neighborhood.
When it does rain here. It rains. And it rains. And it rains some more. And then it won't rain, but there will just be ominous clouds. And I'll wake up in the morning, open my back door to let the dog outside, and look at the sky, and think to myself... Please. Please just let me see the sun a little. Just a little. ...I don't give a damn about cold or hot or snow or ice.. But EVERYONE, any sane person.. needs to see the sun every once in awhile.
Next week, it'll be cold where I am. Really, really f-ing cold. The dog will probably be begging me for a sweater. The baby will probably be playing in the snow. And I will be right there with her.
And I'll be able to breathe again. To think again.
Finally.
I don't actually practice the drawing of a line down the paper physically. I just do it in my head. I like diagrams. I like charts. Mostly I like paper that has been colored or drawn on. Actually, really I like ANYTHING that has been colored or drawn on.
I've gotten off subject.
Ok.
Tomorrow is Monday. And the beginning of an INSANE week. Thank God. We've finally made it to this week. Finally. Even better: I'm damn close to being done packing. As of Tuesday we'll be living out of suitcases and sleeping on our mattress on the floor with sleeping bags.
I've said it before and I'll say it again. I do NOT like it here. I don't really mean to offend any one that does like it here, or any of the truly amazing people that I've met here. But seriously. My head hurts here. My sinuses are weeping. Actually, they're pounding.
If it doesn't rain.. or if it rains lightly, the air turns stagnant in about 2 seconds.. This is not an observation, this is weather channel FACT. Humidity + stagnant air = mold. I'm not talking about the regular mold spores that every day cleaning gets rid of.. I'm talking about the mold that grows naturally in air vents and under carpet and behind my nasty rubber baseboards...the places my property management company says that I'm not supposed to clean because it would mean tearing my house apart.
So I can't breath unless I spend a good chunk of my day outside or just not in my house.. which I can do. Except for those weeks where I'm stuck inside and packing. Not all of the properties that this particular property management company owns are like this, or so I hear. These houses are just really, really old. In fact, their so old that in the next couple years, they're scheduled to be demolished. They've already started tearing down the playgrounds around the neighborhood.
When it does rain here. It rains. And it rains. And it rains some more. And then it won't rain, but there will just be ominous clouds. And I'll wake up in the morning, open my back door to let the dog outside, and look at the sky, and think to myself... Please. Please just let me see the sun a little. Just a little. ...I don't give a damn about cold or hot or snow or ice.. But EVERYONE, any sane person.. needs to see the sun every once in awhile.
Next week, it'll be cold where I am. Really, really f-ing cold. The dog will probably be begging me for a sweater. The baby will probably be playing in the snow. And I will be right there with her.
And I'll be able to breathe again. To think again.
Finally.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
9 days and counting
Technically it doesn't really matter if the carpet gets vacuumed today, or if freshly laundered clothes get hung up. I really, really need to focus on that. It doesn't matter that the house is starting to echo. Or that Auralia decided to try to paint her nails. ...With clear nail polish, fortunately.
It doesn't matter.
We're 9 days away from moving day.
So what matters is that, most of my belongings are packed. I don't think I've done any lasting damage to my child's psychological well-being during this process, so far. My husband's still talking to me. My dog has not tried to dig a gigantic hole in the backyard for 2 days in a row now, and it looks like the weather may hold in time for me to drive to Colorado. No major snow storms at least.
I always said that if Jer was deployed again, I'd move back to Colorado. Again. But saying that, thinking that, knowing that I would indeed do it... doesn't make it any easier. A part of me is ashamed for going back home. I know other women who stay where they hate to be when their husband deploys... Sometimes it's because they can't afford to move themselves back home, and maybe some because they feel like it's their "sacrifice" to their husband, to their country.. To stay where they don't want to be while their spouse is off somewhere fighting. Well.. I'm not that good of a person, and I have the money to move. Hence.. me moving.
But while we know I can't get a command sponsorship to go where Jer's going, I could technically move myself to Korea. Not that he'd get to live with me. I could see if my parents or Jer's parents would watch all of my animals for a year, I could sell all of our stuff and go find an apartment semi close to Jer. Auralia would look awfully cute speaking a different language.
Technically it's a possibility. Albeit a really freaking expensive possibility. Between now and July I could probably save up the money to move to Korea. Maybe. It'd be close.
This is our life.
Am I screwing up the child or our marriage by choosing to stay stateside?
It doesn't matter.
We're 9 days away from moving day.
So what matters is that, most of my belongings are packed. I don't think I've done any lasting damage to my child's psychological well-being during this process, so far. My husband's still talking to me. My dog has not tried to dig a gigantic hole in the backyard for 2 days in a row now, and it looks like the weather may hold in time for me to drive to Colorado. No major snow storms at least.
I always said that if Jer was deployed again, I'd move back to Colorado. Again. But saying that, thinking that, knowing that I would indeed do it... doesn't make it any easier. A part of me is ashamed for going back home. I know other women who stay where they hate to be when their husband deploys... Sometimes it's because they can't afford to move themselves back home, and maybe some because they feel like it's their "sacrifice" to their husband, to their country.. To stay where they don't want to be while their spouse is off somewhere fighting. Well.. I'm not that good of a person, and I have the money to move. Hence.. me moving.
But while we know I can't get a command sponsorship to go where Jer's going, I could technically move myself to Korea. Not that he'd get to live with me. I could see if my parents or Jer's parents would watch all of my animals for a year, I could sell all of our stuff and go find an apartment semi close to Jer. Auralia would look awfully cute speaking a different language.
Technically it's a possibility. Albeit a really freaking expensive possibility. Between now and July I could probably save up the money to move to Korea. Maybe. It'd be close.
This is our life.
Am I screwing up the child or our marriage by choosing to stay stateside?
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Paper
We are coming to the time in Auralia's life where she's beginning to take pride in her accomplishments, and can vocalize or demonstrate that she wants nothing more than our pride in her as well.
She's so funky, this child of ours. A mix of Jeremey and I, so completely and undeniably ours. She seems to have taken bits and pieces of both of us to meld perfectly into Auralia.
My child of hope.
Auralia hands me paper every day. Every hour. Sometimes it seems like every minute. Parts of the day are spent coloring outside the lines, learning the alphabet or recognizing shapes. I draw heads and stick people, elephants and cows, giraffes, mice, barns, moons, bones, moose, and more. My artistic ability is growing by leaps and bounds. And she takes pride in coloring in their eyes, or ears, hair or boogers. She loves to draw boogers. She loves to draw sticks and circles that she calls hearts.
It makes me yearn.
Sometimes the need to express myself is overwhelming. And perhaps Auralia understands this more than most people.
The need to press pencil, pen, paintbrush or crayon to paper can consume me. The urge to tap a keyboard or to stroke piano keys is like a nicotine craving, sharp and serrated. And the urge should be so easy to fulfill.
How is it that these urges, these cravings and needs to express ourselves, that most women feel, get pushed aside? The same way we get so busy that we forget we need to pee, we toss aside our thoughts, feelings, and dreams because we're too busy to listen to ourselves.
Or we're too afraid to.
I want to write. Something that will move people. That will make people yearn, or their hearts swell, stomach's drop, eyes fill.
I want souls to quiver.
Maybe it starts now. Maybe it starts with Auralia holding up a notebook and a crayon to me and saying, "Paper, Mama."
She's so funky, this child of ours. A mix of Jeremey and I, so completely and undeniably ours. She seems to have taken bits and pieces of both of us to meld perfectly into Auralia.
My child of hope.
Auralia hands me paper every day. Every hour. Sometimes it seems like every minute. Parts of the day are spent coloring outside the lines, learning the alphabet or recognizing shapes. I draw heads and stick people, elephants and cows, giraffes, mice, barns, moons, bones, moose, and more. My artistic ability is growing by leaps and bounds. And she takes pride in coloring in their eyes, or ears, hair or boogers. She loves to draw boogers. She loves to draw sticks and circles that she calls hearts.
It makes me yearn.
Sometimes the need to express myself is overwhelming. And perhaps Auralia understands this more than most people.
The need to press pencil, pen, paintbrush or crayon to paper can consume me. The urge to tap a keyboard or to stroke piano keys is like a nicotine craving, sharp and serrated. And the urge should be so easy to fulfill.
How is it that these urges, these cravings and needs to express ourselves, that most women feel, get pushed aside? The same way we get so busy that we forget we need to pee, we toss aside our thoughts, feelings, and dreams because we're too busy to listen to ourselves.
Or we're too afraid to.
I want to write. Something that will move people. That will make people yearn, or their hearts swell, stomach's drop, eyes fill.
I want souls to quiver.
Maybe it starts now. Maybe it starts with Auralia holding up a notebook and a crayon to me and saying, "Paper, Mama."
Monday, November 28, 2011
From: Passing the Light. By Chesnay Susan Thomas 1968
i will
dance naked
when i first
learn
to walk...
and there
will be
a rainbow of light
colors
to blind
the binding minds
the closed hearts
of the men and women
who said
"never"
i will not
simply walk
but
fly
with wings of gold
woman
warrior
feeling with a heart
the fineness of the journey
and dancing naked
at the edge of dawn
is the gate
that moves my soul
into the endless
realm
of possibility
dance naked
when i first
learn
to walk...
and there
will be
a rainbow of light
colors
to blind
the binding minds
the closed hearts
of the men and women
who said
"never"
i will not
simply walk
but
fly
with wings of gold
woman
warrior
feeling with a heart
the fineness of the journey
and dancing naked
at the edge of dawn
is the gate
that moves my soul
into the endless
realm
of possibility
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Appreciating Anticipation
"We can always do that next year!"
...not so great words for a military family. And probably heard more around the holidays than any other time of year. There is SO much to do around the holidays with family and friends, really cool things to take the baby to, great experiences, great food, and not enough time over holiday weekends to fit it all in. Which is ok... I don't need to overwhelm or overfeed my family too much, because we always have next year to experience it all together. Right?
Well, not so much.
There are not too many things worst or even close to as bad as a deployment, but anticipating a deployment might just be up there on the top of my list. You start thinking about what he's gonna miss...different holidays, birthdays, anniversaries plus the day-to-day drivel that becomes important once your spouse is gone and missing it.
So for the next few weeks we'll recognize and appreciate the memories we're making. Every day. Every moment. Which isn't something that every family takes the opportunity to do. Thinking about how your spouse will most likely be gone for the next Thanksgiving or the next Christmas, and a child's birthday or two, makes every day that you are sharing together a little more appreciable.
A lot bittersweet.
A lot more important.
...not so great words for a military family. And probably heard more around the holidays than any other time of year. There is SO much to do around the holidays with family and friends, really cool things to take the baby to, great experiences, great food, and not enough time over holiday weekends to fit it all in. Which is ok... I don't need to overwhelm or overfeed my family too much, because we always have next year to experience it all together. Right?
Well, not so much.
There are not too many things worst or even close to as bad as a deployment, but anticipating a deployment might just be up there on the top of my list. You start thinking about what he's gonna miss...different holidays, birthdays, anniversaries plus the day-to-day drivel that becomes important once your spouse is gone and missing it.
So for the next few weeks we'll recognize and appreciate the memories we're making. Every day. Every moment. Which isn't something that every family takes the opportunity to do. Thinking about how your spouse will most likely be gone for the next Thanksgiving or the next Christmas, and a child's birthday or two, makes every day that you are sharing together a little more appreciable.
A lot bittersweet.
A lot more important.
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