Merry Christmas (belated)

I'm only 4 days late! But in my defense I've been out of town, I'm tired and I'm just lazy.

We had an pretty good Christmas this year. By the looks of it someone would think my children are either extraordinary or held Santa at gunpoint. We got to see family we haven't seen in years, some of which my children got to meet for the first time. Overall, I'd say it was a wonderful Christmas.

The worst part is probably that 8 hour drive (each way) with 3 children. Thank goodness for portable dvd players. However, if I had to hear High School Musical any more I can't guarantee I wouldn't have swerved into a light pole.

My favorite part about going home to visit, is probably the food. Missouri has the hands down best Mexican and Chinese food. You'd think with the diversity of an Army base the food selections would be great, but they arent'. I have yet to find any good Chinese. (food not people, I'm sure all the people are wonderful).

But all good things must come to an end. So home is where I went. When I pulled onto post I seen the snow covered ground, the gate guards standing in the cold, and the Menorah in the middle of the nativity scene??? Now this is where I get confused.

Granted I'm not the utmost authority on the Jewish culture. But, I think that may be a little out of place. If I can remember from Sunday school, Jews aren't the biggest supporters of our Jesus. Now I remember the basics...Jesus was Jewish etc..
But, I don't remember the "Jews for Jesus" campaign.

I guess I understand the whole "political correctness" aspect of having all religions validated etc..I'm just not sure, putting a Jewish symbol into a scene depicting the celebration of the birth of "our" Jesus is correct for anyone. Now somebody will inevitably question why I put "our" Jesus. No I'm not trying to keep him all to myself. I'm not staking claim to the father, son or the holy ghost. Different religions, including Christianity and the Jewish culture have different ideas on the date and identity of the true Jesus Christ. That is the only reason I put "our". Because my background recognizes him as the Son of God, born approximately December 25. But I am not a Priest, Rabbi, or even a Wiccan Goddess therefore, not the best person to question regarding religious differences. To be completely honest, I could careless what another person believes. To each their own. As far as I know, I've never met God, let alone had a Q&A session with him (or her)to know who's right. All I will say about this, is if I'm wrong about him and/or Heaven, I don't get to go to a place that doesn't exist. If I'm right...then it sucks to be those who aren't! lol

But anyway back to my Merry Christmas blog. Christmas on an Army base, is like Christmas anywhere else. Just less men. When we got home, Santa had left presents here for the kids as well. So we attempted to gather around the webcam so daddy could see the kids open presents as it happened. We spent most of our time, saying "wait a minute, we lost daddy again", "don't open that yet", and "there goes the camera again". After about half an hour, I gave up and just typed descriptions. "She got an art set, she's excited. He got a ds game, he's happy. She got a book, she's pissed" etc...

As we finally get to the end of the year long deployment, the worst part is being so close to Christmas. Just a little bit earlier and he would have actually been here this time. You get so close, but still just out of reach. It would have been nice to have our family together without a computer separating us for Christmas. But I guess such is the life of an Army wife.

1+1=11

When your soldier is deployed, you have a lot of quiet time at night. Now I'm not saying thats necessarily a bad thing. For the first few months it can be almost heavenly. After a long day, the kids are asleep. You finally got that warm bath you've been craving and all is right in the world. So...begins the problem.

As one may have noticed, I harbor a slight tendency towards the ADD side of life.
Honestly, it's taken me 3 hours to write this much, because I keep getting distracted by something shiny. When they first told me ADD may be an issue, I said
"what... I wasn't paying attention". Then they said something about birds or ink pens or something, I still wasn't really listening. Oh, that reminds me I need to finish wrapping Christmas presents.

Oh, but anyway back to my quiet time. So you're sittin alone at night. You've watched the latest marathon of Vampire Diaries, imagined what your life would be like if a werewolf loved you, and wondered how accurate CSI:Miami really is...now what?

Being a person with an imagination such as mine, it begins to wander. By wander I mean an hyperactive Alzheimer's patient with a concussion.
Tonights quandry...
What would life be like if my entire family changed their middle name to Ray?
Jay Ray, Chrissy Ray, Sissy Ray, Bubba Ray and M-ray. I may have to have another child just so I could name him Ray Ray. (fyi:these of course aren't their real first names, I'm not that redneck!)
Where this absurd question came from, I believe it started with fish. Let me explain: I was thinking about how different my life has turned. When I first went to college, my major was Marine Biology. Which of course, made me think of dolphins, which made the leap to sharks, which naturally made the leap to the stingray. From the stingray, obviously I made the connection to Billy Ray. From Billy Ray, I started thinking about trailer parks and what it would be like to live in a trailer with a whole house full of kids named Ray.

I haven't always been like this. At one time, I was super quiet, reserved and dare I say even timid. Then somebody convinced me to think outside the box (speaking of which I could really use a taco). So I did. Then the bastard stole my box!

I'm sure somewhere out there some Jack@$$ is enjoying my box (get it jack in a box, haha-or for you Rudolph enthusiast a Charlie in the box). Although I do occasionally miss the snuggliness and security of my box..I find the fresh air satisfying. Besides I can't be ADD. I suck at math.

Sense of Control

I've been struggling lately with the idea of Freewill versus Fate. Its that feeling like we have absolutely no control over our own lives, so the choices we make don't necessarily matter.

I am not a religious person by any means. But I am a faithful one. I do not believe any religion has it right, nor do I believe any religion has it completely wrong. (well maybe a couple, but thats for another day, lol)

If we choose to take the long way to work, and by doing so we avoided a 12 car pile up. Did we really "choose" that path, or was it chosen for us?

Being an Army wife we struggle with this thought on a daily basis. Not just for our own lives, but for that of our family.

If our soldier hadn't traded patrols so he could call home would he still be alive? If I hadn't insisted he re-enlist would we have a better life? Would the outcome still be the same? If he hadn't taken that one assignment would the entire universe be re-routed? If he had a different job would I still be alone?

In general my thought is a combination of the two... freewill and fate.

I believe the big things in life are mapped out for us. Marriage, children, death etc.
But I believe how we get there is up to us.

For example:

Death is inevitable. The moment we are born is the moment we begin to die. Knowing this gives us 2 options. We can get up every morning, cry, stomp our feet and pout because we know that one day everything will be gone.
or
We can make the most of our time. Learn whatever it is we were put here to learn. Love whoever it is we were put here to love, and live however we were put here to live. But the point is you have a choice to live courageously or to die cowardly.

A person doesn't always realize the impact they have on another. Sometimes a simple smile is enough to change the way another views their own life. But that same frown can destroy another. Or does it? Did they make that choice to be happy or did we make them happy? By "making" that person smile did we alter the path of the world?
If that's true, then what did we do by making them cry?

I find irony in the fact, that every day, we wake up and make choices that ultimately we have no choice in making.

Living this life you constantly feel like you have lost all sense of control. But the reality is, maybe we never had it to begin with?

Maybe once we accept we have no control, we can enjoy the world put before us.

I Hate You Deployment Gnome

I don't think he even qualifies as a Gnome at this point. I'm more inclined to call him the kleptomaniac spawn of Satan.

My morning starts off at approximately 3:45 am. Why? I have no idea. For some odd reason, this seemed like a good time to start my day. I toss and turn for 2 1/2 hours, I finally doze off! Just in time for my alarm. So I give up.
I then rise and decide to make my kids a special breakfast. We had bacon, eggs, and biscuits (from a can, I'm not "that" thrilled to be up). I think I'll be nice and let the kids sleep for a bit longer while I put on the finishing touches. I get their toothbrushes ready, clothes out, gloves, coats the works. I then like a big dummy think my kids will be refreshed, thankful and ready to start the day.
THEY WEREN'T.

My oldest gets dressed only to realize she had a massive growth spurt in the last few days and can't get her pants above her knees. My youngest, gets up only to tell me that she was still mad at me from the day before. When I had the audacity to get her haircut for the first time. (which is a whole other blog in itself, I'll just say the ladies at SmartStyle will be scarred for life). The real challenge came from "the boy".

My only son obviously, holds a special place in my heart. Being the only boy and the middle child I will occasionally find myself feeling bad for him. Today was not one of those occasions. For some reason, it took us 35 minutes to put on our pants. We then finally make it down stairs for what I think will be breakfast. How dare I make him biscuits and bacon! I am the worst mommy ever because he wanted Lucky Charms. How could I not know this?

Not to worry because by this time, the electricity is off. And on, and off and on and off and on. I thought I was going to have a seizure from all the activity. With the electricity issues, Dora, Yo Gabba Gabba or whatever tv related nightmare the youngest needed at that time just wasn't happening. So then came the next tantrum.
But it gets much much better.

So my son, shoves 3 pieces of bacon in his mouth and decides he wants to play hide and go seek instead of getting ready for school. At this point we have approximately 5 minutes before the bus arrives. Only to realize, he's lost his socks, his shoes and his coat. I finally get him dressed after only 45 minutes. We get bundled up tightly and run to make the bus. The youngest thinks her time is better spent looking at the sky, her toes or anything other than walking to the bus. My son at this point is beyond obstinate but clammed up and my oldest just wants to make sure everybody knows Mommy's bad mood wasn't her fault. So after I've yelled, begged and bargained to get them to the bus stop on time. The bus is late! So we stand there, and stand there, and stand some more. (did I mention it was COLD, and I am a big sissy). So finally the bus comes. I think we're home free. We get to the house, the electricty was on, my youngest could get her tv fix, and I could get in the shower.

I then get in the shower, and the damn gnome cuts the electricity off again. During one shower the lights went out 3 times. Finally get out, get dressed teeth brushed. Get the youngest ready for ballet. Only to discover that the freaking gnome hid all her ballet attire except for one leotard. Which of course doesn't seem like an issue, until you try to get it on her. Apparently she too has had a growth spurt.
After 10 minutes, a lot of stretching, and crying (from me not her) its on. Its cold out, so I make her wear pants over her leotard. OMG, how could I? Such a bad mommy. "I wanna be cold", "leave me alone" and my favorite "don't you ever take me to get my hair cut again" (what this had to do with getting dressed I have no idea)was repeated constantly. So we go to fix her Ballerina Bun. But my little gnome friend refuses to relinquish the electricity. So my little princess ballerina goes to class looking like she has a mullet. But that is only apparent if you aren't looking at the big blue toothpaste smear all over her chin. So finally we get there, life is looking up and all is good. Oh, wait...there's a new Ballet teacher. Which on any other day wouldn't phase us, but today was not any other day. For the first time ever, I had to carry my child into the studio and force her to stay. Trust me she did. She stayed in one spot for over 40 minutes and glared at the door like she was trying to make it burst into flames. Kids danced around her, she remained steady. I have to give her credit for conviction at least.

So we get back home. Yeah..the little bastard finally gave me back my electricity. However, the constant off and on spazzed out my computer. Which if it was any other day may not have been such a big deal. But...it wasn't any other day. I work from home. With my computer down, I cannot work from home. So I miss a days work, I'm sure I'll hear about that one tomorrow (can't wait!)and the new phone book does not list the phone number to my internet provider. So I go knocking on my neighbors door, thank God she's got the number. Give them a call and again all is right! Oh wait, no its not. They are working on the sewage lines. So out of nowhere I hear gurgle, gurgle, gurgle BOOM. Not to worry its just my toilet trying to explode.
At this point I'm ready to have myself committed. But I soldier on.

In preparation for tonights dinner, I made a delicious pork roast. Cooked and seasoned and placed in the fridge to await this evenings dinner. I go to make dinner, and the roast is MISSING. By missing, I don't mean shoved to the back of the refrigerator, I mean missing. As in not there. No trace that there has ever been a roast in my home at anytime. If I didn't know better I'd swear the damn gnome hired Dexter to clean the crime scene after he took my roast. Four hours later, my roast is yet to be seen. We searched refrigerator, cabinets, even the bathrooms and still no roast. I had witnesses to the reality of the roast or I would have already checked myself into the nearest institution.

I swear that if I ever get my hands on the Deployment Gnome, I will make dwarf tossing* an Olympic sport.

*legal disclaimer-author of this blog does not advocate the tossing of dwarves, nor do I intend on ever catapulting a dwarf, little person or roast stealing #@$%!&
in any way. I do not harbor any grudges towards the common lawn gnome, midget, munchkin or little person. I do not believe any of the above named entities deserve in any way to be tossed.
Don't ask why I feel the need to make this obvious disclaimer, that is for another blog entirely.

So Tired

This life is exhausting. I knew what I was signing up for, but sometimes the reality can be overbearing.

Specifically during a time of war, your focus is primarily on getting your soldier home safely and what you would do if God forbid anything were to happen to them. How your life would go on? How could you look your children in the eye and tell them their father was gone? How could you continue to love a country that you sacrificed everything for and got nothing but heartache in return? I would like to believe that God has a plan, the end justifies the means, and the honor one would feel from knowing your soldier gave everything for your safety would be enough. But I can't.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying anything derogatory about my country, the military or the war. I'm just saying that I'm tired. I'm tired of not knowing when the next phone call will be. I'm tired of consoling my children when somebody says something stupid about the war, and I'm tired of being surrounded in pain.

In the last 10 years, I've seen more death than most people see in a lifetime. It's getting harder and harder to justify the life that takes so much from you.

I'm tired of feeling guilty because I'm thankful it wasn't my soldier...this time.

There are times, I can't look at other wives, knowing the amount of pain they are feeling, whether its the death of their soldier, the seperation of deployment, or the illness they are suffering alone, and feeling relieved that its not me...this time.

How screwed up of a life does one have, when the thing they are most thankful for is that it's somebody else thats suffering? Or that you feel guilty for feeling that way?

I know that at anytime, I could get that knock on the door and my life would be changed forever.

Being a soldier is tough, but try being a soldier's wife.

The Last Supper

Tomorrow will be one of the many Thanksgivings we spend without our soldier. It almost seems like a holiday tradition at this point to tell them Happy Thanksgiving via webcam. Sure the kids and I will usually make a large meal with turkey and all the trimmings. I'm not sure why, since 2 of my 3 kids refuse to eat meat and my oldest continues to ask random question about why you put chopped up bread in a dead birds butt. Good Times.

The reason we celebrate Thanksgiving depends upon whom you ask. Some say it was to celebrate a bountiful harvest, some say it was to celebrate with the indians for helping them to survive during a harsh winter, for some it's just a way to give thanks for all blessings received.

Although, I love the idea of a holiday that the success or failure depends upon your ability to eat as much as you can, I do find the idea of Thanksgiving a little ironic. One would expect that a bountiful harvest, a large feast with family and friends is the beginning of a wonderful story. But, thats not necessarily the truth.

Throughout history, all great tragedies begin with a feast.

There is of course, the Last Supper. I'm pretty sure that didn't turn out too well for Jesus.
The Ides of March, Ceaser didn't fair too well on this one, but he inspired an awesome salad.
Then we have Thanksgiving of course, were we celebrated and feasted with our Native American friends for 3 days. Then gave them blankets laced with smallpox, took their land and forced them into slavery. But hey, atleast there's no hard feelings??? lol

Then of course, we have the "family gathering". Thanksgiving is a popular holiday for the dysfunctional family feud. Maybe its the close quarters without Christmas cheer, something in the turkey, or the excitement of pumpkin pie but, Thanksgiving is the day we gather, and say thank you because we don't have to see our relatives until Christmas. (not my family of course, because we are perfect and I love them bunches, lol)

Drive Thru-Pharmacy?

I decided I was going to get the jump on the pharmacy crowd and get there shortly after opening. I was so excited, today was not going to be a 3 hour wait!
I get my number, there's only 11 people ahead of me, and 5 windows open. Woohoo!!

No logically, this led me to believe my visit to the pharmacy would be a quick one.
Apparently, the pharmacy, is where logic goes to die.

It took me approximately 57 minutes to get my prescription from start to finish. In that amount of time, I was able to use my imagination a bit, to wonder what life is like for some of the other pharmacy "contestants". (I say contestants because when your number is called, you feel like you've just won the lottery and have to fight the urge to yell "I won, I won")

I'm looking around, and I'm thinking......some of these people REALLY need their medications so please hurry! There were several I could imagine them driving their car through the front door, creating a desperately needed drive-thru. I'm thinking they probably aren't the best choice to keep waiting.

There were the older population, the ones who looked like their ticket would be punched before their number was called. The one with the oxygen mask grabbing his chest looked promising.

The ones talking to themselves are always fun. I'm starting to believe their imaginary friends just don't like me much. Snobs!

My favorite are the sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy head, fever, sore throat, God please give my my medicine so I can rest crowd. Although I feel deeply for these contestants, and I hate that anyone feels that way....I want to spray them with Lysol as they walk through the door. (relax, I wouldn't actually do it!)

I understand that is a place that sick people go to get medicine and blah, blah, blah. But stay away from me. I have enough issues without the flu, whooping cough, monkey pox, Ebola virus, or what ever viral atrocity they're toting around.

So I guess, until somebody goes off the deep end and creates the drive-thru, I will visit the pharmacy with a smile on my face. Because I know that the more time I spend there, and they get to truly know me, all those imaginary people will want to be my friend.