Because it's a good thing no one reads this...

Fine, Adam's deployed overseas. Happy? I know it's stupid to announce I'm alone, but I should also announce I have a huge arsenal of guns, my hands are licensed as weapons in 47 states, and I have had ninja training since the age of 9 months. And I'm Irish-if you haven't figured out now not to mess with me, well then I just feel sorry for you.

It's hard to live knowing this and not being able to share it. Like I said in my last post 26 years ago, it helps to share this stuff with people.

So, this is what has happened in the less than 3 weeks since he's been gone:

* Addison sliced his finger with scissors while cutting popsicle sticks. He has a popsicle-stick addiction, but we have enrolled him in a 12-step program, especially after the 17 birdhouses he made and put in various spots in the yard so the neighbors could see them.
I called the "clinic" we go to at the Airfield, and the lady told us to come in. Wonderful, I thought. Until his doctor said, "Oh, we don't do stitches here or even the Dermabond (skin glue)." Gee thanks lady-who-answered-the-phone. You're on my shit list.
So we went to the ER, and the P.A. looked at it and deemed it not bad enough for stitches, "on the verge" as he put it, and glued it up. I specifically told him Addison was playing tackle football. "Oh, he can do anything in 3 hours," I was told.
The next night at football practice the cut split right open-the glue virtually disappeared within 5 minutes. Asshole.
I'm getting to the point-he got stitches. Three of 'em. And my boy never cried, not once.

* I changed the turn signal bulb in my car. I figured out what was wrong with it, consulted my manual, and did it all myself. Not a huge deal, I know, but I like knowing I can do it. Sometimes I think I might even be more handy than some men.

* I've spent hours and hours taking care of small problems that have arisen in the Family Readiness Group. As the leader, I do a lot for the 40+ wives in our company. They have all been so sweet, it makes it all worth it if I help out just one person. I know, if you know me you're wondering if this is really Erin. I promise. I'm softening as I get older. I actually enjoy making a difference, lessening someone's worry or sadness is worth it.

This is getting way too long, and if I didn't know me I'm sure I would have stopped reading this awhile ago. If you're still reading, thanks. If not, fuck you. (jk-NOT)

Because it's called neglect, y'all

Sorry, blog, I've neglected you, I know. But things have been going on here that I just don't want to put out in cyberspace. Namely, I'm a military wife who refuses to put any single person's life in danger by blabbing.

I would love to let the entire world know what's been going on. It would be easier to let it all out here, trust me. I could vent, maybe get some kind words of encouragement, but I leave that for Facebook and cryptic messages that I hate posting, because I really, really hate when people do that. I'm pretty sure I've only done it once, and the people that know and love me know what's going on.

So, sorry poor little blog. But things are getting more stable, and maybe I'll finally figure out how to write normally again.

Because I'm trying to help, y'all...

I've been an Army wife for 13 years. (Okay, it will be 13 years on Sunday, get over it). Adam had already picked his Army profession before I met him, had already enlisted, etc., so I really had no idea what I was getting myself into. There have been many highs and many lows, but for the most part, Army life has been good for us.

That said, I'm going to try to impart my wisdom to those less-experienced wives. I forget how young some of the wives are until I look at their Facebook profile and see that they graduated from high school LAST YEAR. Um, yeah, I'm almost twice as old as they are.

I'm glad there was no Facebook and MySpace back when I was a young wife, because I have no doubt I would have aired all my mumblings and grumblings about the Army and how it took my husband away from me most of the time. I'm glad to report I'm mature now (it sure took me long enough) and realize that this is Adam's job. I have absolutely no control over his work hours, his deployments or pretty much every aspect of his job. This has been hard for someone with control issues, but once I realized this, life has been that much easier.

Here's my advice to the young wives, the ones who don't have a lot of experience with it all like myself - find a hobby, get a job, go to school, etc. Keep yourself busy. If you sit around pining for your husband, I can guarantee you're going to be miserable.

It's hard, I know. Very hard. I know this to be true. I honestly hope that it gets easier for you as the years go by.