Because I feel like writing...

Because you'll blink and miss it...

2012-01-20T13:57:00.002-05:00

I'm no expert on parenting. In fact, when I meet people, I usually throw it right out there - I parent unconventionally. I don't always do everything right when it comes to being a parent, but no one does.

I have a hard time when I see or hear parents complain about spending time with their kids. (A quick side note: Addison and I are no doubt co-dependent. Spending so much one-on-one time for the past 12 years is my excuse, along with the fact we have each other to lean on during deployments.) I LOVE school vacations, days off, and weekends. I miss him when he leaves for school. He has pointedly asked me to NOT be home when he gets home from school, but I can't bring myself to do it. This is starting to sound creepy.

What I'm saying is, I enjoy his company. Not all of the time, because I am human. Addison is a talker; I'm usually pretty quiet. There have been times when I have said, "Please, for the love of God, just stop talking for five minutes."

I understand the need to vent, the need for alone time, and the wish that my family lived in the same town so I could actually drop him off there for a weekend. If Carol Brady had been a real person, no doubt she would have told Alice to watch her kids because she was meeting Mike for Happy Hour down at the local bar. If those damn happy kids got unruly, they could always go out back for some potato sack races.

I had one child by choice. I knew what I could handle and one was it. I have a lot of respect for anyone who chooses to have children, period. I also have respect for people who choose not to have kids, for any reason. That's their choice. I grew up saying I was going to have six kids. Then I realized what having six kids would actually be like. If I had just kept going, and had my own spawntourage, I would probably have my own show on TLC right now.

I see so many moms on Facebook wishing their child a happy birthday, and they always ask, "Where did the time go?" Addison is at that age where he would rather spend time with his friends than his parents. He's slowly slipping through our fingers, on his way to adulthood. Don't let those years you want to rip your hair out and wish Play-Doh was never invented go by too fast. Some day you might look back and realize those were the years you want back - when they let you kiss them without being embarrassed, when you're the prettiest woman in the world to them, when they want to marry you, not Katy Perry.

Get down on the floor and make a robot out of Legos. Put on the tiara and drink the pretend tea. Go to the zoo, the park, Chuck E. Cheese (they have beer there for a reason), go outside and catch fireflies, a snowflake on your tongue, or whatever you want to do.

The next time you're having a bad day, when you are wishing they are 18 and out of the house, go listen to "Teach Your Children" by Crosby, Stills & Nash. I guarantee you'll cry.

Because it's not a competition...

2012-01-19T14:18:00.000-05:00

I have a confession to make to my civilian friends. I used to roll my eyes and exclaim, "Oh, please. Get over it," whenever I'd read a status update that said, in general, "My husband is going away for business for two weeks. What am I going to do?" I wanted to reply with, "Bitch please. Spare me. Is his life in near-constant danger? Is he being shot at? Is he praying as he rolls through the streets of Afghanistan to not hit a landmine? Then STFU."

My mother taught me an important lesson a few years back that made me rethink my meanness and self-pity. If that is what is awful for you, it's awful for you. Who am I to tell you how you should feel, and what you should think? This is our life, and your life is your life. You may not know what my life is like as a military wife, and I don't know what it's like to be married to anyone besides a soldier.

Now, for my fellow military spouses - it seems like we all like to play the "Who's got it worse?" game. "Yeah, well my husband is at a school for two months and I have four kids, so it's harder for me," or "My husband has more rank and works longer hours than yours." Come on. Knock that shit off. This is what makes it divisive among us spouses, and it's time to quit it.

I look at each and every wife on the merit of her, not her husband's rank. If I like you, I like you because of who you are, not what I think being your friend will do for my husband's career. If you insist by defining yourself by your husband's rank, unit, etc., I can guarantee you we'll never play beer pong together. Officer wives are no better than enlisted wives, and enlisted wives are no better than officer wives.

In my Utopia, we support each other, not try to one-up each other. I'm not saying there isn't support - Adam's unit, in particular, is amazing in the way others will go above and beyond for any reason. One of my first assignments when I worked at the newspaper back in 1997 was covering a luncheon. I had a neighbor, who was obviously born an asshole, constantly yell at me across the loop, "Ranger, Ranger, where's my Ranger?" Adam was away training at the time, and I suppose this dude must have hated his own life and was jealous. Anyway, I'm at this luncheon, and who is seated at my table? Two men who were in charge of Adam's whole unit. I introduced myself and one of them asked, "So, is everything going okay while he's gone?" Me, never to be the shy one, answered back, "Actually, no." Long story short, that wonderful man contacted the other soldier's chain of command and I was never harassed again.

I don't want this to come across negatively. I'm just saying I've seen too much of this "I've got it worse" attitude. You know what? Someone always has it worse, so count your blessings, get over it, and let's play some beer pong.

Because this is how it is...

2012-01-17T17:07:00.000-05:00

Let me tell you a little secret that some of you already know - it's not easy being a military spouse. It's not easy being a spouse, period, but when you throw in deployments, long work hours, etc., life can be particularly difficult.

That being said, this life will either make you or break you. I hadn't planned on marrying a guy in the Army. I had my life set. Then that funny little thing called love hit me and one of us (not me) was getting married as a teenager.

There were many, many times I thought I couldn't do this. I literally did break, but with the help of friends and family, much like Humpty Dumpty, I was put back together again.

Through the 15 years of being a Ranger wife, I've done a lot of things I thought I would never do. I always thought I'd have a husband, father, uncle, cousin, etc., around to help me when I needed something. All of my male relatives live in Massachusetts - I live in Georgia. I've had lawnmowers die on me during deployments, but did I go and complain about it? Hell no. I hefted my ass into the truck, drove up to Lowe's, and bought a new lawnmower. I added the oil and did everything I had to to make that thing run.

One Christmas Eve (of course, during another deployment) my washing machine started leaking water. Murphy and his Laws can suck it. I didn't sit and cry, or call someone and bitch about how unfair life is - I once again got in the truck and went to Lowe's. With the help of my fellow Ranger wife, we brought the new washing machine in the house and I got it all hooked up and running.

I'm not bragging, I'm just stating the facts here. Shit is going to happen whether your husband is at work, in the field, deployed, at a school, etc. While it's nice to depend on others, and certainly, my fellow Army spouses have definitely always been there, you have to learn to depend on yourself. Did I want to have to euthanize our first dog, Adam's dog girlfriend, without him? No, of course not. Unfortunately, he was in Iraq. All I could do was send him an email to please call me when he could.

This is your life as a military spouse. Don't let it break you. I wouldn't be the tough-as-nails chick I am today if I had not had all of these experiences. I can also bench press 500 lbs., but that's a different subject for another day.

Because we all like the familiar...

2012-01-13T18:18:00.000-05:00

Here's my Oprah post. Although I loathe everything about her, a lot of people seem to find inspiration from her. Well, she's off the air (Really, how many of you religiously watch the OWN Network? Pfffft) so I'm taking over, via the Internet.

I'm a creature of habit. When I find something I like, I stick to it. The only sandwiches I would eat through my elementary school career were pb&j and liverwurst. Don't ask about the liverwurst, because I have no idea as to how that came to be. I'd rather lick a monkey's ass than eat one as an adult.

I'm almost at the maturity level to think to myself, "This will hurt in the morning/cause me to lose a tooth/leave a scar." I'm evolving into a person who desires to try new things - new foods, new books, new almost-everything. Are you?

I've discovered I love to read YA dystopian novels. I want to learn more about mythologist, writer and lecturer Joseph Campbell ("Follow Your Bliss" is attributed to him). I prefer McDonald's any day of the week to any other food, but I'm willing to try new foods - I never knew how yummy scallops were.

It's not that I'm afraid of trying new things - it's that I crave the tried and true, the known. It's time for me to step out of my comfort zone and be more adventurous.

So what are you going to do to step outside your comfort zone? Try your hand at golf? Learn a new language? Maybe there's a movie playing and you think "You couldn't pay me enough money to go watch that." Go see it. Why not surprise yourself with what you may find you actually like?

DO IT.

Because We're Moving On Up...

2012-01-12T18:03:00.002-05:00

Today was Adam's first paycheck of the new year. I noticed it had increased, wait for it ... a cool $10. Wow! That's $20 whole bucks a month! Of course the first thought that went through my head was, "Hot damn, time for a bigger house, and oh yeah, our vehicles are a year old, time to upgrade those bitches! Mercedes-Benz, here I come!"

I lie. My first thought was, "What the hell?" Color me spoiled, I guess. This is why I'm a Republican - the pay raises under Republican presidents have always been more. The majority of the military is Republican for this very fact. But enough about politics, because the first person who tries to argue with me politically will get a whole lotta Erin fist wherever I choose to land it.

I admit I am sheltered to a lot of the real world. Here's where my civilian friends can help a girl out.

Adam has been with the same company (U.S. Army) for 16 years. He's been in the same UNIT (75th Ranger Regiment) since he graduated from Basic Training, Airborne School, and the Ranger Indoctrination Program. Currently he's a first sergeant, and along with the commander, they are in charge of anywhere from 200-250 men at one time.

In the "real world" I don't see how a $20 a month raise would be rational for a civilian counterpart. We get benefits, and we appreciate these. Healthcare is free. And the healthcare also sucks ass. I switched mine so I could see a civilian doctor. I pay some out-of-pocket, but it sure beats being sick and being told by the Army clinic that sure, they have an appointment in a month! Damn skippy!

I'm in no way complaining about living the military life. We love this life. Adam loves his job, and I love that he loves that. That's a whole lotta love 'round here. We have gotten fiscally smart the last 10 years and do not live beyond our means. No credit card debt, y'all!

But, it still seems like a slap in the face to a man who has given 16 years to his country, deployed 9 times in 10 years, and works tirelessly. It's also a slap in the face to every member of the military.

If you feel the need to try to point out anything related to the military life, and have never walked a mile in our shoes, don't even start with me. That said, I have some gold nuggets to go purchase.

Because I Want to Let You Know...

2012-01-11T18:53:00.002-05:00

I have a love/hate relationship with social media. I love how I'm able to keep in touch with old friends and relatives I haven't seen in years. I love being able to write on Adam's Facebook wall when he's deployed. I love meeting fellow bibliophiles and Boston sports fans on Twitter.

But here's what I hate. And I would be happy to never, ever see any of this on social media ever again:

1) "My two-month-old just said her first word!" Lady, no she didn't. She's two months old. Get a grip. She was probably pooping and let out a grunt that sounded suspiciously like "da."

2) If you think you may wake up the next day and regret what you posted on Facebook or Twitter, don't post it. (Drunken fun posts excluded. Those are always welcome. Only so I don't feel like the only one.) I'm sorry your husband, wife, boyfriend, girlfriend, mother, father, blah blah blah sucks. There have been enough of these posts to make me cringe when I see them. Just because you can post it doesn't mean you should. It's embarrassing for you and for those of us who read it.

3) I'm sure your baby is cute and you love him/her. Sometimes I'll even look at more than one picture of your kid. That is, until you start posting the same baby in 500 pictures in a month. Unless that baby is teaching the dog how to jump through a flaming hoop one day and teaching Grandma how to use her cellphone the next day, a few pictures here and there will suffice.

4) Constant whining. ENOUGH. If your life sucks that bad, maybe it's time to take a look at it instead of posting about it, and figure out how you can change it, even if it's a small change. After a while, do you notice you don't have any comments on such posts? It's because everyone hid your whiny ass.

5) For the love of God, can we please use proper spelling and grammar? Some posts I can't even read, and it's not because I'm old, SMH! I weep for the future of the English language. Stop making up your own spelling of words. My laptop screen is way too full of red ink from me correcting your lazy ass.

6) The next status I see that says along the lines of "OMG I'm so sad/upset/mad" I'm going to comment and say, "Awesome!" If you're that sad/upset/mad about something, get the hell off the computer and deal with it. Sympathy trollers will never receive an ounce of sympathy from me, because they're just that - they want sympathy. I am not cold-hearted (only 3/4, I have a working 1/4 "Give a shit" chamber) and I've offered sympathy, encouragement, etc. to those who actually tell why they are like they are.

7) If the best you've got to say is, "I just ate cheese!" then really, why post inane comments? No one cares. Honestly. No one cares. I'd rather hear what kind of bowel movement you had (ghost wiper? endless wiper? the kind that makes the toilet water splash back up?) That's just me. I'm gross. I'm also frustrated by posts you'd be better off saying to yourself in your head. Or keep a small notebook so you can jot down these random thoughts of your own genius.

These are just a few of my pet peeves about social media. I have more - but these are my top seven.

I don't hate babies, or you, I just get easily irritated sometimes. This is one of those times. If you're offended, maybe you see yourself in this post? Sorry I'm not sorry for not feeling bad. Opinions, which these are, are like assholes - everyone has one.

Because I Need Your Help...

2012-01-06T13:53:00.002-05:00

Last year my goal was to read 52 books. I reached that early in the year, so I upped the number to 100. Lo and behold, I ended up reading 150. Yowza. I read a lot of good books and I read a lot I could have done without.

That said, I have decided this year I will focus on my writing. I don't consider myself a "writer" per se, but this blog has helped me as an outlet to my thoughts, feelings, opinions, etc., ever since a friend suggested I blog during one of Adam's deployments in 2007.

So, here's my problem ... I'm not very good at coming up with what to write unless given a prompt. I once took a writing class in college and I hated it. Why? Because the whole semester we had to come up with our own ideas of what to write for each paper. I loved working at the newspaper because I was told what to write about.

This is where y'all come in. What would YOU like to see me write about? If you know me, you know I don't have a problem voicing opinions or feelings (to a certain extent). I refuse to be negative though, so that's off the table. I've slowly turned myself from a pessimist to an almost optimist. I've found it's a lot easier to be happy if I'm not always crapping on everything. I've learned to appreciate the little things, the things that make me happy (books, hoarding candles, and fabric softener that smells really good).

Let 'er rip ... "Erin, you should write about _________."

Thanks!

Because I Was 19 Once...

2011-12-12T21:26:00.003-05:00

I've seen a lot of articles and books lately where people write letters to their teenaged selves (they're now "grown-ups"). The more I thought about it, the more I realized I wanted to write my 19-year-old self a letter. Technically, I was a teenager, but that was one of the worst years of my life. Now, at the incredibly young age of 37, I am going to write myself a letter and go back 18 years.

Dear Erin,

What a year. Remember your 19th birthday, when the world was wide open, and you had plans for how the future was going to be? Your heart was whole. Sure, you had experienced pain and loss, but this, I promise you, will not break you.

It's scary to lose 13 pounds in two months because you cannot eat. I know it feels like the world is ending. There seems to not be any kind of future. Where do you go from here? Why, all of a sudden, does it seem like the whole world is crumbling around you?

This is a chance to learn. It doesn't feel like a learning experience right now - it feels like shit. Don't lose hope. Take this opportunity to remember who was there for you, because chances are, they will always be there for you. True friends will lop off your hair because you ask them to, because they know you are in pain and are doing what you need to to free yourself from that pain, one hair at a time.

ERIN - that guy, really? What the fuck are you thinking? You're not. You are looking for someone to pay attention to you, to love you again. But really, Erin, paying attention to you by ripping a phone out of the wall so you can't call for help isn't love. Threatening to bash in your windshield with your brother's bat while you are driving? He needs help. RUN, run fast, and run far. You know you are worth more than that.

It's scary to lose your way in life. Remember all those hours of playing Life (the board game) and how you got to choose different paths? This is one of those times. There is always another path.

Do not lose your fearlessness. This year will make you realize how utterly shitty life can be, but it will also make you realize, eventually, how very strong you are, and as you get older, you will become that much stronger in every way imaginable. You will do things you never thought possible.

I'm sorry, Erin, that this year happened. But I'm not. Because in time, you will look back at it and realize that this was the year you became you. Never stop learning, never stop dreaming, and most of all, never become someone who others think you should be - just be you. Remember when Lynne told you that you'd always be called "cute" and you just rolled your eyes? It works out when you're in your late 30s and still getting carded, kiddo.

Love,

Me

Can you believe this was all because the kids from Beverly Hills 90210 graduated from high school and I was heartbroken? Just some humor, in case my writing touched you that much and you're weeping into your hanky.

This was amazingly cathartic. Take some time, and write yourself a letter. Pick an age that was difficult for you. Let it all out.

Because this is why I love Christmas...

2011-11-01T12:00:00.002-04:00

Picture it: Christmas morning, 2004. Addison is 5 years old, and is up at the butt crack of dawn to open his presents. Within minutes, the phone is ringing. It's Adam, who will listen as Addison tears into what Santa brought him. I listen along with him, watching our son, with tears in my eyes. Adam is deployed. It's our first Christmas that our family isn't together.

Picture it: Christmas 2007. Reference above paragraph. Same Christmas, different year.

I'm a Christmas freak. I have no problem letting anyone know. This is my way of letting everyone know exactly why I love Christmas.

In 2004, my best friend Ely's fiance was also deployed. In an effort to make it fun, we wore pajamas, tiaras, and feather boas all day long. We drank mimosas and had tacos for Christmas dinner. Even though our men were overseas, we did our best to enjoy the holiday. We didn't try to re-create what Christmas would be like if they were there, because they were not there.

I put on a brave face for Ely and Addison. But it wasn't the same. It was glaringly apparent that Adam wasn't there. I made it through the day, but it wasn't easy. It was a bittersweet day. I was able to spend it with my son and my best friend.

We're a military family from Massachusetts. We live in Georgia. We aren't able to just jump in the car and be at grandma's house, or an aunt, uncle, or cousin. At the holidays, and every other day, our military friends are our family.

I admit, I felt sorry for myself on those two Christmas days without Adam. I also know that there are families who will never enjoy a Christmas with their loved one again, whether they died fighting for our country, from an illness, accident, etc. I knew I was lucky that Adam was alive and well.

This Christmas, Ely, her husband, and her son (my godchild) will be spending Christmas here at our home. They will fly from Utah to Georgia, and spend a glorious week with us. I am beyond excited. I haven't seen Ely in three long years. I miss her terribly.

Any year Adam is home is a special Christmas for our family. We do not take it for granted. So, if I gush a little (or a lot) about Christmas, let it be. It's a special day for us all.

Because this gets my panties in a wad...

2011-10-25T13:53:00.002-04:00

I'm a mother, a wife, a sister, a daughter, etc. I'm a woman, obviously. And this is what's got me pissy lately:

If I was new to this country, just woke from a coma, or something along those lines, I would garner from commercials that all moms drive mini-vans, wear khakis with cardigans (or, God forbid, Mom jeans), and think that their kids' shit doesn't stink. Wives are often portrayed as nagging shrews - why can't a dude change his daughter's diaper while discussing the football game with his buddy on speakerphone? Why can't a guy sit down and watch a football game on Sunday without his wife/girlfriend giving him a hard time?

I drive a Jeep. I have one child. I watch football, hockey, soccer, baseball, NASCAR, you name the sport, I'm most likely watching it. My adult drink of choice is beer.

I'm in no way saying I'm better than those women. I'm just different from them. There are others like me, some I'm lucky enough to call friends. But you will not catch me posting about Grey's Anatomy on Facebook, because I don't watch it. I'm more likely to be watching any old show I can (Charlie's Angels, The Brady Bunch, Three's Company).

So, advertising companies, listen up - not all moms fall into your stereotypical neat little packages. We're all different, we parent our children differently, we don't all watch the same shows or wear the same clothes. So there.

Because today can be gone ...

2011-06-30T17:32:00.002-04:00

Today has been tough. I'm feeling lonely and depressed, the first day I have through all of this deployment. It's been almost two months, so I see that as a good thing, a silver lining.

It's extremely hard for me on holidays. With the 4th of July coming up, I see on Twitter and Facebook all the plans others are making with friends and family. My best girlfriend in town is leaving tomorrow for a month. Well then, just make your own plans, Erin, you might say. Thing is, whatever Addison and I do, it's always glaringly apparent that Adam isn't there. When there's just three of you, and one isn't there, we both feel it. So while I don't want to sit around feeling sorry for myself, it's also kind of sad when we do fun stuff.

But, tomorrow I will wake up and shake this. We'll figure out something to do. Because, I know, in the back of my mind, we're incredibly lucky to have Adam be healthy and alive.

Because I'm holding tight...

2011-06-07T14:23:00.003-04:00

In two weeks, I will be the mother of a 12-year-old boy. I'm not one of those moms who declare, "Where did the time go? They grow up so fast!" No shit. I'm well aware of every day that passes, every minute, every hour.

Addison found a dictionary given to him at school a few years ago last week. It said, "To the Class of 2017." Wait, what? That's in seven years. Seven years may seem like a long time to most, but for me, I have exactly seven years left to make the most of every second with him. He's my only child. I have one shot to make him a productive member of society, to teach him manners, to nurse him through his first broken heart, to teach him everything he needs to know before venturing out into the world on his own.

Though I wish Adam didn't have to deploy, I am a realist at certain times. This is my time to spend with Addison, to make memories with just me and him. I want him to look back someday and remember that although Dad was deployed, Mom tried her hardest, we had fun, we laughed, we cried, we bonded. I have no doubt Addison will always be close to Adam and I. He's a good kid. But I also feel him beginning to test his independence. The upcoming teen years will be hard. The day he gets his license and drives off on his own I will be a wreck.

But I won't worry about that now. I have a few years left to cherish this time, to grab every day by the balls and make each and every day special.

Because I believe in signs...

2011-05-25T14:47:00.003-04:00

I often have dreams where my relatives who have died visit me. After my aunt died, I had a dream that we were sitting at a table together at some sort of function, and she said to me, "It's okay that you didn't go to my funeral." I had the flu so entirely bad I spent the day before her funeral, at my son's baptism, on the floor in the priests' room. I was too sick to go to her funeral, and felt bad about it. Her coming to me in my dream made me feel a lot better, and I truly believe she came to me specifically, in my dreams, to let me know that.

I've had several including my beloved grandfather. They are always fun, and I appreciate him coming into my dreams.

Last night, however, was different. I was getting ready to go on a boat trip. I met up with a red-haired man. The man I met was Jason Dahlke. Jason died in Afghanistan in August of 2009 while on a mission. He was one of my husband's Soldiers. I never met him. I have heard many great things about him as a person, and hearing and reading about him makes me know I missed out on knowing an extraordinary man.

I knew it was Jason in my dream. I can't recall everything, except I instantly liked him. Not romantically, mind you. He has a beautiful wife. We were instant friends. I offered him some sort of clothing to take on the boat. Then he went and got a jean jacket that was lined with lambswool to take with him. At the last minute, I decided against going on the boat, because of a warning of rough seas and my tendency towards seasickness. I made Jason promise to keep in touch through the boat ride, and that we would meet up again when he got back.

I woke up not knowing how to feel. I feel honored that Jason came to me in my dream. I felt the need to share this, to see if anyone had any other ideas. I like to think that this means that Jason and his fellow comrades are looking down and taking care of Adam and his men, currently deployed.

Thank you, Jason. I feel, in a small way, that we have met. You really are extradordinary.

Because it's been a week ...

2011-05-23T14:00:00.002-04:00

So I haven't been blogging every day since Adam left. Oh well. But I know exactly how I have felt since he left nine days ago. You name the emotion, I've felt it.

The first week I allow myself to feel a bit bad for myself. Just a little - no pity parties here. Addison had a tough time the first day and a half. It's tough for an almost 12-year-old boy to know his dad will be gone for the next few months. He'll miss seeing him play baseball for the All-Stars, miss his last day of sixth grade, miss his 12th birthday. Addison is a resilient, tough kid though. I like to think the life of a Special Operations soldier's child will prepare him for most anything life will throw at him.

So the first week is done. I'm still trying to pick myself up by the bootstraps, whatever the hell that means. Putting on my big girl panties. It's not easy, no matter how many times we've done this before. (EIGHT) It's an uneasy feeling giving that last kiss, the last goodbye wave, the last glimpse of his face. I try to be positive. He'll come home. He'll come home safe and sound. I can't bear to think of it any other way. Reality can kiss my ass right now.

This trip seems a bit easier in some ways. I was honest with myself. I went to my doctor. I'm on an antidepressant. It's only been two weeks since I started it, but it is helping. I still can't sleep worth a crap, but that is something I can work on.

So far, so good. I'm laying off the booze for the most part, and getting out and doing things. I can't stop life, and life won't stop me.

Because I've been thinking ...

2011-05-09T13:37:00.002-04:00

I've been thinking that I might try to blog this next deployment. It's hard, because of the operational security related to Adam's job, but I think maybe I can do it in generalities, more like what I'm feeling, how it's going, etc.

When Adam calls us from "over there" as we call it, we talk about my day, and Addison's day. It's hard for Adam to share anything, because we both know he would never and never has shared anything even related to being over there over the phone. He takes his job and his security and that of others around him seriously. I appreciate that. I wish everyone would just shut their mouths and do their job, and not put others in danger. I wish wives would stop trolling for sympathy. Some is fine, but not ALL the time. I finally admitted to myself that I owed it to Adam, and Addison, and myself even, to get to the doctor for help. I am now armed with antidepressants, because I recognize the past few deployments have been harder than they should have. I don't need to walk around in a constant fog of depression. That's not healthy for anyone.

So I think most days I will try to post what that day feels like. I'm no dummy, so the first few days will all probably show up at one time. I'm not telling you when he leaves and I'm not letting you know when he'll be back. I want each and every person over there to come home safely.

Because sometimes secrets are good ...

2011-05-03T10:09:00.002-04:00

I had an interesting conversation on Twitter today. Basically, it was about the constant need of the general public to know absolutely everything.

We aren't owed anything. We know there's two wars going on, but really, how much do we really know about what goes on in the big sandbox across the globe?

Honestly, I don't know a whole lot about what Adam has done with each and every deployment. In a sense, I don't want to know, because realistically, we don't know how many more times in the next few years he'll have to go over. I'm a realist, and I know his job is a dangerous one. I just don't want to know how dangerous quite yet.

We made a deal many years ago. On the day of his retirement, we're getting a couple cases of beer, and he's going to go through all of his memories, and share them with me. I know what he has done overseas is amazing, along with his entire unit. The public and mainstream media will never know all the brave acts of these men.

Why people feel the need to think they know absolutely everything because they watch the news and read the newspaper is beyond me. They have no clue. Someday, I look forward to these men and women being able to tell their story. We had the Greatest Generation, now we have the Next Great Generation unfolding before our very eyes.

Because do you really think I wouldn't have something to say today? ...

2011-05-02T12:17:00.002-04:00

I knew something big was happening last night while laying in bed watching t.v. The president speaking at 10:30 at night? Something was up. So of course I got on Twitter, because if you want to know something, anything, get on Twitter.

Within minutes it was confirmed that Osama Bin Laden was dead. I waited for a few more confirmations before rousing Adam and telling him the news. I had to repeat myself a few times, it sunk in, he gave me a high five, then fell back asleep.

It wasn't the reaction I was expecting from a man who has spent a good amount of time overseas for the past 10 years. But that's him, not me. For me, it was a catharsis. Each and every deployment, every lonely minute Addison and I spent was somehow made right. Sure, there are a million more bad guys for every one Bin Laden, but for me, he embodied all that is evil. He was the mastermind behind 9/11, and that day began our war against terror. Everyone's lives were changed, including our entire military.

Here's where I become angry - the whole joyous event of finding out about his death has become politicized. How hard is it to simply say, "Way to go American troops, you did it!" Why turn it into an agenda? How very immature and self-centered. Do you know how much planning, how many years of intelligence, how many troops on the ground and beyond went into the operation? It wasn't one person.

The surge in patriotism is great, don't get me wrong. Do you want to know where the patriotism has been since '01? With every single military family. We have been quietly sending our men and women off to war, never knowing if we will see them again. We let that breath go when we see them again, no matter how long the deployment may be. We grieve with those who lose their loved ones. We offer support to each other; we are a family. Adam, and his brothers in arms, are the true silent professionals. They leave and come back with no fanfare. They do their job, and they do it spectacularly. They don't ask for handouts, or recognition.

My wish is this - for just one day, put aside the politics. Celebrate the death (my that sounds horrid of me, but you get the gist) of a tyrant, who killed our fellow Americans. Don't forget those still fighting, those returning, and those getting ready for yet another deployment. Take a minute to remember our fallen service members, their families, our wounded warriors and their caretakers. It's just one day, one day, to look beyond yourself to recognize some truly amazing people, people I am proud every day to say I know and love.

Because I love books ...

2011-04-21T15:59:00.002-04:00

According to Adam, I'm a nerd because I read so much. Well, I think he's just jealous and I actually really hate when people who read are branded as "nerds." I love to read. As soon as I learned how to read in first grade, I've always had my nose buried in a book, and for the last two years, in my Kindle. I LOVE my Kindle.

At the beginning of the year, I gave myself a goal of reading 52 books this year. So far, I've read 40. Hey, I don't work and I have one kid who is almost 12. I have the time, especially the hours I spend at the baseball field for his practices and before games.

I've been keeping track of every book I've read. Here's the list:

1. A Shore Thing - Nicole "Snooki" Polizzi
2. The Hunger Games - Suzanne Collins
3. Catching Fire - Suzanne Collins
4. Mockingjay - Suzanne Collins
5. The Best Laid Plans - Lynn Schnurnberger
6. Water for Elephants - Sara Gruen
7. When You Reach Me - Rebecca Stead
8. Prom and Prejudice - Elizabeth Eulberg
9. Starlit - Lisa Rinna
10. Between Friends - Debbie Macomber
11. The Red Garden - Alice Hoffman
12. The Wolves of Andover - Kathleen Kent
13. Sprinkle With Murder - Jenn McKinlay
14. The Weird Sisters - Eleanor Brown
15. Here Lies Bridget - Paige Harbison
16. I Think I Love You - Allison Pearson
17. Buttercream Bumpoff - Jenn McKinlay
18. Less Than Zero - Bret Easton Ellis
19. The Clique #14 - A Tale of Two Pretties - Lisi Harrison
20. Trapped - Michael Northrop
21. It's Not Really About the Hair - Tabath Coffey
22. These Things Hidden - Heather Gudenkauf
23. Before I Fall - Lauren Oliver
24. The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society - Mary Anne Shaffer
25. The Book of Joe - Jonathan Tropper
26. How to Talk to a Widower - Jonathan Tropper
27. Everything Changes - Jonathan Tropper
28. Eighteen Acres - Nicole Wallace
29. Three Stages of Amazement - Carol Edgarian
30. Secrets of My Hollywood Life 6 - Jen Calonita
31. The Peach Keeper - Sarah Addison Allen
32. A Visit from the Goon Squad - Jennifer Egan
33. The Boyfriend List- E Lockhart
34. Sweet Valley Confidential - 10 Years Later - Francine Pascal
35. The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake - Aimee Bender
36. Bossypants - Tina Fey
37. Garden Spells - Sarah Addison Allen
38. Sugar Queen - Sarah Addison Allen
39. Commencement - J. Courtney Sullivan
40. The Shadow of Your Smile - Mary Higgins Clark

I find that books are a very particular taste. I read a bit of everything, and yes, there's a lot of Young Adult books in the list. It's okay to be an adult and read YA. Hello, Harry Potter? Hunger Games? All written for kids, yet it seems like adults enjoy them the most.

The books I really enjoyed are anything by Jonathan Tropper and Sarah Addison Allen. They are two totally different authors, and the books are not similar at all. Commencement was a great book. A Visit From the Goon Squad was great, and actually, it just won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction. Bossypants I absolutely loved. Tina Fey is not only hilarious on TV, but on paper too. The two books I really didn't like is Starlit and The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake. Lisa Rinna should stick to making her lips look not so fucked up, and the Lemon Cake book was just weird. I kept waiting for the book to start, and yet it never seemed to.

I'll keep adding to the list as I read more. I guess my goal now is 100 by December 31. Wish me luck.

Because Here I Go Again ...

2011-04-12T12:39:00.006-04:00

Last week I was pissed off. It happens every now and then. I've gotten better at controlling my anger, and waiting a day or two before I go spouting off, my emotions bubbling over no matter how hard I try to keep the lid on them. I'm not angry right now. I'm not sure how to explain it. I'll try though.

One of the best things in my life is being a military wife. It's such an intense feeling of pride to know my husband serves his country each and every day and has for almost 16 years. I've been right there with him, and although I've complained a LOT (mostly when I was younger and immature), but for the most part, being a wife in the military community has become a large part of who I am. I was angry last week because of the government shutdown that was looming, and the fact that it looked like if it happened, Adam's paycheck would be cut in half. Ouch. I don't care who you are, half a paycheck hurts. It didn't happen, I'm happy to say.

BUT, this week it seems like all of a sudden the White House is pro-military everything. I saw a quote on Twitter by Joe Biden about owing us military families a lot. This is where I will most likely disagree with him, and others will disagree with me. Why are we owed anything? Anyone whose spouse joined after September 11, 2001, knew the word "deployment." Even if you just dated them for awhile, you knew there was always a chance of a deployment, or 10 deployments. They are difficult things, and you might question why in the fuck did you agree to this life when you agreed to marry them. One word, my friends, one word. Love. I love my husband. So I do the deployments, the loneliness, try to help my son understand why Dad is gone yet again. This is what you do for love. I would expect the same thing from Adam if the roles were reversed.

I'd rather see all the effort go toward the men and women who are in the Armed Forces. One thing that really makes my blood boil is seeing the stickers that say, "Army Wife. Toughest job in the Army." REALLY? I mean, really? You deploy to a foreign land and get shot at? You are away from your children for months on end? I don't think so. Get over yourself. A lot of places offer military discounts. Thank you to these businesses. Every little bit helps. We get free passes to Sea World, or Busch Gardens, and Disney World offers (or used to) a discount to military families.

What more do you want? I don't feel we are "owed" anything. You know what satisified me the most? A simple, heartfelt thank you to my husband. He does the hard part. I'm simply here supporting him. And that's enough for me.

Because this is what disappointment looks like ...

2011-04-08T14:35:00.002-04:00

I've tried to be positive. I've tried to realize that there are tons of things that I cannot control, and to not worry about these things. I've done well, for me, lately. Until now. I won't hold my tongue. I try to control my temper, I try to hold my tongue, but sometime the Irish temper flares, and there's just no dousing it. The government has not yet shut down, yet the paycheck Adam will be getting next week is ALREADY halved. It's not all about the money, but in reality, a lot of the anger is directed at that. We'll be okay for awhile. We don't live beyond our means, but we enjoy what we can afford after many, many years of living on slim means. We have sacrificed. When we bought our house, we made sure we were several hundred dollars below what we are given for a basic housing allowance to allow for the bills associated with owning a home. But still, each paycheck makes a difference. Today I can honestly say I have never, ever been so disappointed in my country. Adam has given 15 years of blood, sweat, and tears to this country, and Addison and I have been right there along with him. We have endured holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, etc. alone. We have sent him to war 8 times to be blessed enough to have him return to us each time. I have sacrificed, damn it, for this country. I try so incredibly hard each and every single day to not be selfish. But when my government basically tells us that Adam has to work and be paid eventually, it really chaps my ass. I don't have a job or career because I always wanted Addison to know that he had one parent with him, always, that he could depend on so he wouldn't feel alone. No one likes to feel alone. But that's how I feel, because my disappointment is so damn thick today. I can say with all honesty I am crying while I write this. All of the pride I have in Adam and his fellow Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen and Marines drives me to tears to see what is going to happen to the families who depend on this money, who sacrifice so much every single day. (And this girl is NOT a crier. Only when the Red Sox lose in the ALCS. Goddamn Aaron Boone.) My fellow military families, let's band together. Let's tell our government we're not expendable, that we count too. Make your voices known. Do not rest.

Because this is for Marlo ...

2011-03-28T12:31:00.002-04:00

This is a post just for a woman I know named Marlo. I know Marlo because we went to high school together. While we didn't hang out, we had friends in common, and Marlo was one of the nice kids. Fast forward to today... Marlo is a newlywed who today saw her husband off for a yearlong deployment overseas. She's now a fellow military wife, going through her first deployment. I promised I would writer her a blog post with my best advice on how to survive this trying time. I'm not an expert. I have never gone through a yearlong deployment with my husband, because his job is different, but I have been through eight deployments averaging about four months in length since 2001. What I write here is my own ways of coping I have found to be beneficial to myself and my family. Everyone has to find their own groove and what works best for them obviously. I'm not going to lie. The first two weeks are always the hardest for me. That first morning I wake up after he has left hits me like a ton of bricks when I remember he won't be laying next to me in that bed for awhile. It's okay to be sad. There's a list I see every so often that has major stressors in life (like having a baby, moving, becoming an empty nester, etc.). I haven't seen one lately, but I wonder if they've updated it to include deployments. You will feel stress. How you deal with that stress is up to you. I chose to drink, probably too much, for a few deployments. Not the best coping mechanism, that's for sure. As I've gotten older and had a better grasp on what was to come, I've tried to use that stress as a motivator to exercise instead. Again, it's totally up to that individual how they choose to deal with the stress. Expect the unexpected. Something will break or need to be repaired at some point. In my case, it's usually within that first two weeks that Murphy's Law goes into full effect at the Nash house. I've gone and bought lawnmowers (twice), a washing machine on Christmas Eve, and much more, by myself, because I had to. Be prepared, especially if you don't have family readily available or in your area, to learn how to do a lot of things you never thought you'd have to do. You might amaze yourself as to the strength you do have as a woman, and as someone who is able to do stuff independently. It's okay to ask for help. I admit, I am awful about this. I will try, and try again, and try some more, before I ask anyone for any sort of help, be it watching Addison or figuring something out. I've become independent to a fault I suppose. When people offer help, or even say, "Hey, if you need anything, let me know," well, let them know. You will find out soon enough whose ear you can bend at any time of the day, and who may be a little standoffish because suddenly you're alone. You'll find out who your true friends and family are. It's very rare that I will unload my fears or sadness when I get the chance to talk to Adam when he's overseas. He's got enough on his plate. I'll complain every now and then about something trivial. But for the most part, I make sure he knows that everything is under control here. A Soldier is only as good as his counterparts are back home. If a wife is constantly nagging him, asking why he only emails once a day (HI, HE'S AT WAR YOU SILLY BITCH), his head isn't going to be where it needs to be. If you have to fake it, fake it. I'm not saying you have to BE fake. But I also wouldn't want Adam to be worrying because I happen to be having a crappy day and have his focus taken off what he is over there to do. You don't have to be Sally Sunshine, but there's really only so much he can do from over there. We don't often get much more than a 15-minute phone call once or twice a week, so there's no way I'm filling that time with complaining. He can't tell me what he is doing over there, so I let him know what we did that day, or what we have coming up, to give him a feeling of home and normalcy. If he's reassured that we're okay, it should be that much easier for him to be able to do his work. Again, not going to lie, but holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, etc., are hard when he's gone. Our first Christmas without Adam was miserable, no matter how hard I tried to put on a happy face for a 5-year-old Addison. The second Christmas was somewhat better, but really, it's just not the same without him. I've become somewhat jaded after almost 15 years of being a military wife, admittedly. It's fine he will be gone for my birthday this year. I've had 36 birthdays, and I understand. Addison will turn 12 without his father here. He is somewhat understanding of it, and as a typical kid, let Adam know that it "sucks" he won't be here. There's probably all sorts of things I forgot to add here. Mostly, the first deployment is all about learning what to do and what not to do. It's a scary, exciting, prideful time. Most of all, let him know how much you support him and what he is doing. And, of course, how much you love him. Marlo, I have no doubt you will be exactly what your last name is. You have my number - don't ever hesitate to use it. I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it.

Because it's who I am ...

2011-03-23T11:23:00.002-04:00

Sometimes I'll be driving around, and see a blonde woman in her BMW, Acura, what have you, and think to myself, "I wish I was blonde and had an expensive car." That lasts for about a second before I remember who I am. I'm happy being me, because I accepted that this is who I am, which is not a blonde in an expensive car.

I was blonde once, because I was 18 and had a major lack of self-esteem. I thought I looked beautiful. In reality, I looked like a Puerto Rican porn star. I'm neither Puerto Rican, nor a porn star, so it was pretty ugly. I really believed that blondes had more fun. I was fun no matter what my hair color was, I just didn't realize it way back then.

So when I see these women, I feel bad about myself for a millisecond. A lot of work goes into being them. That's not me. I feel exhilarated every single time I get into the Jeep and the top is off. The feeling of sunshine on my face makes everything better. My hair inevitably is mussed and tangled, but I don't care.

If I had it my way, I would live on or right down the road from the beach. I would love the feeling of sand between my toes every day. I crave warm weather, sea breezes, and beaches. When it's warm outside, I also crave beer. I don't know why, but I do.

I guess I am a beach bum at heart, a girl who should have inherited millions of dollars early in life, so I could pull a Hemingway and write wherever I wanted to my heart's content.

Those girls can have their fancy cars and their manicures and such. I'll be the girl with the top off the Jeep, barefoot, hair blowing wildly in the breeze, dreaming about my future beach house stocked with good beer.

Because sometimes it's too much ...

2011-03-08T13:08:00.002-05:00

As someone who keeps up with Facebook and Twitter on a somewhat regular basis, I have to stay I'm pretty surprised at what people put out there these days.

First off, enough of the friggin' complaining. Maybe I follow the wrong people on Twitter or have overly negative friends on Facebook, but it seems like for a long time now all everyone does is complain, and complain about everything! Shut it! I'm sorry if your life is so sucky, but instead of whining about it, why not try something different or new? I understand that not every situation is fixable, but attitudes are. I sometimes find myself falling into a chasm of self-pity, especially when Adam is out of town, whether training or deployed. Then I remember the families who will never again see their loved one, who never got the chance to say goodbye, whose son, husband, father, etc., died in a foreign land for his country. That'll clear up any feelings I have about feeling sorry for myself pretty quickly.

Then there are the "oversharers." Again, I'm sorry you are in a very loveless marriage and you hate your husband. I really don't want/need to know this, neither does the whole Internet. I'm sorry you can't afford basic life necessities for your family. But when you post the same link countless times to your blog with this information on it, it seems like maybe you're looking for a handout or donations without actually saying it. If so, that's fine. I do my best not to judge. At the same time, though, I wonder about people like this. Are they really that miserable? Are they trolling for sympathy? Do they want attention?

Maybe I'm just a simple person. I don't have Internet-worthy drama. In fact, I don't even have drama, because I choose not to become entangled in anything that could potentially turn into drama. I have a happy little life. I'm thankful for what I have, and I don't pine for what I don't have.

Because I don't understand why ...

2011-02-16T15:04:00.002-05:00

I don't understand why adults feel the need to proclaim their hatred of Justin Bieber. The psychology behind it fascinates me. I think back to my teenage years when all the boys I knew absolutely hated The New Kids on the Block. It seems to make sense that they were jealous - jealous of their fame, money, ability to get girls, etc.

It's not a new phenomenon. I'm sure tons of young men wanted to be Elvis, or John Lennon, even Mick Jagger. But lately it seems like the people who are supposed to be mature adults like to spit their vitriol toward someone Justin. I think it's ridiculous. He's a child. Do these people realize they're letting the world know, via Twitter, Facebook and other social media, that they are incredibly immature and "hate" a young teenaged boy?

You don't have to like his music, or think he's talented (which he is, jealous much?). Don't listen to his music. If he offends you that much, you might want to examine yourself first.

Who wouldn't want to be a teenager worth a reported $100 million dollars with Usher as your mentor? Sounds like a pretty good life to me. I, as a newly minted mature adult, wish Justin the best of luck in his life. I hope he stays true to himself, his family, and his fans. Americans seem to like others to fail, so they feel better about themselves. I find that truly pathetic. Worry about your own life, and cheer on others when good things happen to them.

Because New Englanders are going to hate me ...

2011-01-27T14:05:00.003-05:00

But I really do miss the snow this year. I've lived in Georgia since April of 1996. I haven't seen more than an inch of snow at one time since then. Growing up in New England I saw my fair share of snow. My dad always asks me if I remember the Blizzard of '78. Nope. I was 4 years old. I do know the story that we went across the street and got some Kentucky Fried Chicken though.

I know New Englanders are hating the snow. There's been storm after storm after storm, and they all seem to dump copious amounts of the white stuff at one time. I get it. I remember being about 19 years old, and that winter we had more than 100 inches of snow. And that was on Cape Cod, who usually gets rain.

But, after all these years in the South, I sometimes do miss a good snowstorm. I miss being a kid, waking up at the ass crack of dawn to see if school was cancelled. I miss that night before feeling of making plans as a teenager with all my friends, prepping for the snow day. I miss having that feeling of togetherness with my family during a blizzard, because none of us could go anywhere. That "let's hunker down, make a fire, eat some candy, read some crappy magazines, watch t.v., etc." feeling is always pretty cool.

What I like the most is watching the snow fall, watching it accumulate on the pavement, the cars, the roofs of the houses nearby. I really think falling snow is pretty. Sure, a week later when it's brown and dirty it's not so pretty. There is really nothing I like better than a beautiful snowfall at dusk.

So, New Englanders, while I can feel your pain about ALL THAT DAMN SNOW, know there are a few of us displaced Yankees who are sort of jealous.

Because I'm embracing my role...

2011-01-25T12:42:00.002-05:00

That would be my role as a housewife, homemaker, domestic engineer, whatever you'd like to call me (besides Bitch, although I have answered to that once by accident). I've finally started to find my footing as someone who can cook. I'm not sure why I always found it so intimidating. I'm experimenting with new things - veggies and meats and spices and everything else.

I cannot wait for Springtime so I can plant stuff. I'm feeling all Mother Earth-y and want to grow all kinds of stuff - cucumbers and squash and beans and everything else I can. I want to cook with said food.

I'm trying hard to be a good wife and mom, and feed these boys. Adam is a great husband - he'll eat anything I put in front of him, and grin even if it tastes like a hockey puck. Addison is good about trying new things. Hell, the kid has me cook him salmon and broccoli and I even got out my tweezers to take the bones out of it. If all else fails, the dogs will pretty much eat anything. (The new dog has been caught eating her own excrement. I'm sure anything I make will taste better than that. And yes, she's gross.)

Because I realized this ...

2011-01-18T10:59:00.002-05:00

I'm not looking for sympathy, or encouragement, or anything like that. I'm self-assured enough to not be that type of person.

What I realized the other day is that I seemingly have no discernible talent. I can't make things out of wood, or sew a quilt. I can't draw to save my life. I can't sing, or play an instrument. I can't take really nice pictures.

I've been searching myself and thinking, pondering, wondering if I do have some sort of talent. Maybe I do, and it's been dormant my whole life. Maybe I am just a really ordinary person. Maybe I still need to discover it. I think that it would make a really neat blog, like "Finding My Talent" or something like that, a quest to find out if I really do have any sort of gift.

Until then, I'm going to be thinking and thinking about it.

Because I like these days ...

2011-01-11T15:16:00.002-05:00

I know everyone likes to complain about the cold, snowy, icy, what-have-you kind of days the entire country seems to be experiencing lately. Me, well, I like this weather.

I like the cold, gray days. I like to ask Adam to build me a fire so I can lay down in front of it and absorb the warmth (and dry skin). I like wearing sweatpants, a cozy sweatshirt, and thick wool socks. I'm lucky in the fact that I don't have to go out in the cold, or the snow (because I live in southeast Georgia.) I have no right to complain. It's January. It's winter. I'm making the most out of it, because in a few short months, the hot, sticky weather will be here, and then everyone will be complaining about that.

I'll enjoy the winter season as long as it will last.

Because these people bug me ...

2011-01-07T15:15:00.002-05:00

I've been trying hard to be a more positive person, to roll with the punches instead of trying to fight everything. I think I've been doing a pretty good job of it, and life is a lot less stressful. What I've figured out, though, is that there is a certain breed of people who I will never, ever like. I bet you know one or two or even more, because they're certainly rampant. They are the "I'm better than everyone else because _____" (fill in the blank.)

You know those people who make you feel bad because you happen to like Justin Beiber's music? The ones who say, "Oh, if you don't listen to the new record by I Pull My Pud you suck so bad." It seems like everyone tries to be original, to not be mainstream. That's fine, but you don't have to try to make yourself feel awesome by making others feel bad about what they listen to.

Or read. Or eat. Or drink. I don't care if I won $190,000,000 - me and my taste buds would still be eating at McDonald's.

It seems some "trashy" things are cool to own up to - watching Jersey Shore, for example. I don't watch it, but if I did, I'd own up to it. I'm reading Snooki's book. Go ahead and mock me, I don't care. I read all kinds of books. I just finished the Stieg Larsson trilogy and really liked the books. I love Willa Cather and I love Jackie Collins books.

People need to get over themselves. If you want to drink your Keystone Light while reading Cervantes, you go for it. If you want to listen to New Kids on the Block while discussing Beethoven's works, who the hell cares? Like Joseph Campbell is reported to have said, "Follow your bliss." I'll add to that and say, "Follow your bliss, and fuck anyone who gives you any shit about it. They're douchebags, yo."

Because it's reading time ...

2010-12-28T12:13:00.002-05:00

There's something about the holidays that makes me want to sit on the couch and do nothing but read nonstop. I actually did this one day, and by evening I was nauseous and my eyes hurt really, really bad. But, I love to read. I may be "just a housewife" but I love to learn.

I finished reading Just Kids last night. It's about singer/writer/artist Patti Smith and photographer/artist Robert Mapplethorpe, how they met, lived together in the late '60s and '70s in New York City, and what their lives were like during that time. I've always romanticized what living in NYC might have been like in the '70s, the drugs, music, sex, etc. I think the opening credits of Saturday Night Live during the late '70s gave me this view. Whatever it was, I loved the book. I only knew the names of Patti Smith and Mapplethorpe, and this was a great introspection by Smith into both herself and Mapplethorpe. The book is beautifully written. I read each and every word so as to absorb the whole book.

I ponied up and started reading The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest by Stieg Larsson. I have read the previous two in the trilogy. They are intense reads, that's for sure. Usually, if I enjoy a book and know the next in the series is already published, I plow ahead and read as many as there are. With these books, I had to take a few months' break between them. It could just be me, but I find them psycholgically and mentally exhausting. But I do love them, so I'm glad to be on the last in the trilogy.

Because it's that time of year ...

2010-12-14T16:45:00.002-05:00

I have this incredible yearning for nostalgia lately. I feel the need to comfort myself. I'm not sure why I feel like this. Maybe it's because Adam's still only been home less than two months. Maybe it's because it's almost Christmas, and we aren't lucky enough to live near family to be able to spend it with them. Whatever it may be, I'm nostalgic.

I want to be 6 years old again, sitting it the back of the car while my mom and dad (who would divorce a year later) bring my sister and I to my grandmother's house for Christmas Eve, in the snow, looking at Christmas lights the whole way to her house. I want that innocence back. The belief that Santa was real. The non-divorced parents. When getting an Annie doll was the best thing that ever happened to me.

I want to watch every Christmas episode of the best shows I used to watch growing up: Laverne and Shirley, Good Times, Happy Days, and all those sitcoms that made me feel good.

When I have a lack of control in life, I tend to gravitate toward my old creature comforts. Adam will be taking on a job with more responsibility next week. I'm so proud of him, but I also know it will involve even longer hours than the usual 13+ hours a day he's at work. I miss him when he's at work, and I miss Addison when he's at school. But I'm okay with this. This is life.

I will enjoy the slowing down of the next few weeks, because it doesn't come along often, maybe once or twice a year. I'm going to watch all the Christmas shows I can, read Christmas books, listen to Christmas music, and overall, just enjoy the season.

Because I admire her ...

2010-12-07T14:43:00.002-05:00

I'm incredibly sad that Elizabeth Edwards is nearing death, according to the news reports. Though a staunch Republican, I've always admired her. I read all about the Edwards family when John was running for office, and felt awful about the loss of their son in a car accident. I can't imagine the pain a parent feels when their child dies suddenly.

Through all the news about John's infidelity and his fathering of another child while still married to Elizabeth, she remained classy. She even bought the kid Christmas presents. I highly admire people who remain classy and graceful during times of high stress, when they have the right to freak out and rail against those who hurt them, yet don't. They take the high road. I aspire to be like those people.

Although Elizabeth has been preparing her children for her death, no one can ever replace a mother. My heart breaks for her children, for her family, for her friends, for all who know and love her. She is able to impart her final words of wisdom to her children. I don't ever want to die before Addison, and I can't quite fathom knowing that I didn't have much longer on this earth, and the hurt associated with that.

All I can say is I sincerely hope Elizabeth is at peace and in no pain physically. She has a lot of admirers, including me, praying for her and her family. Godspeed, Elizabeth.

Because I effin' love to read ...

2010-12-02T11:21:00.002-05:00

Bad Erin - no blogging for almost a month. November was pretty busy, yo. I'm looking forward to a relaxing December but for some reason I have much more energy than ever, so I suppose that's a good thing.

I've gotten my Christmas shopping done. Presents are wrapped, and have even been shipped to our respective families. Christmas cards (which were made in August - I've either incredibly anal, organized, or have a lot of time on my hands) have been sent out as of two days ago. I even finished the stocking stuffers for Adam and Addison.

Around this time of year, I get a hankering for reading. More so than usual, because it's rare that I'm not reading a book.

I'm not real proud to admit I just finished Nicole Richie's book Priceless. But after having read 3 500+-page books in the last few weeks, I needed something pretty mindless, and this delivered in that respect. It's a quick, easy read. It won't change your life, but if you're looking for something fluffy to read, go for it.

As soon as I finished Priceless, I started Matched, by Ally Condie. It's a Young Adult novel, and supposedly along the lines of the Hunger Games, which I still haven't tucked into the trilogy, yet I want to. Maybe after this book. Needless to say, I have tons of books on the Kindle to read, which I fully intend on doing this month.

Because I feel the need ...

2010-11-10T11:18:00.002-05:00

Let me preface by saying that I am in no way complaining in this post. I used to be a huge whiner, until the advent of Facebook. When I saw people who constantly bitched about how awful everything was, I took a good look at myself and decided I did not want to be that thoroughly annoying asshole everyone ended up either unfriending or hiding from their feed.

I do feel the need, though, to tell what normal, everyday life is like for both myself and my family. I used to run my mouth a lot, to try to right the wrongs of the world. I've also learned that sometimes it's better to just keep my mouth shut, although it's been hard. I can't make whiners into Sally Sunshines. If they are going to complain, they're going to complain.

These are facts: Adam, my husband, is a first sergeant in a special operations unit in the Army. He started out as private way back in 1995. I was dating him then. I've been along for the ride the entire 15 years he's been in the Army, and in the same unit for 14 of those years, after basic training and airborne school. If I ever open my mouth to offer advice to other wives, it's because most likely I've been there, done that, and even got the T-shirt. It's not because I think I know better than them. Chances are, I've probably been through a similar situation.

Another fact: I have a son who is 11 years old. We are riding that slippery slope of the pre-teen years, and hormones are starting to come into play.

Explaining what life is like for us only applies to us. Our life is not what the normal Army life is like. Sure, there are similarities, but in reality, they are two different worlds.

Fast fact: The bulk of my family and Adam's family live in Massachusetts. It's more than a 20-hour drive from here in Georgia. I am lucky enough to have my only sister a mere 6 hours from our house. So, if you ask me to try to plan to do something months in advance, I cannot guarantee I can make it. This life of ours is not dependable. I can't just ask Adam to please be home at a certain time because I won't be there for Addison. I would gander that 99.99% of the responsibility for Addison falls on me. I'm fine with that. That is why I have chosen not to work in the past few years.

The 10 years I did work was part-time. Most of it was done from home. When I did have to go into the office, Addison was with me. It was perfect. I wanted Addison to know the stability of having one parent he knew was always there. That is not a dig at Adam. It is the nature of his job, of the military.

Super fun fact: The higher your rank in the military, the more responsibility you garner, therefore, your hours will become longer. It's hard for me to bite my tongue when I see or hear wives complain at the time their husbands get home. It's the military. There are no set work hours. So many times I want to point out that most days, my husband is getting home hours later than their husbands. But that seems immature to me now. I don't need validation for being patient. I want to see my husband more than an hour a day, but I also understand that he has a LOT of work, and that it never gets done before he leaves for the night. He is a stand-up, good, hardworking family man. We all have a certain level of co-dependency borne out of living this life the past 15 years. But complaining isn't going to make him come home faster. And I would never, EVER nag him. I think he appreciates this.

I know he has thanked me for letting him do the job he loves. I am glad he has a job, and one that he loves. Not too many people can say that nowadays. I support him wholeheartedly in every aspect of his work.

This hasn't always been an easy life, but it's been good to us. I would love to be able to have Addison grow up near his grandparents, and to have his cousins in the same town. So many times I longed to instantly be at my mother-in-law's house, letting her take care of me and cook me supper, as selfish as that sounds. Sometimes I become very weary of being responsible. I want to be taken care of, just for a day. I don't want to worry about what is for supper, making sure the laundry is done, the house clean, homework done, or trying to figure out what time Adam will actually be home.

One more thing about our life: We can't just decide when we would like to go on vacation. The unit plans the two times a year Adam gets his vacation time (it's called "leave" for all of you civilians). Four weeks a year is great when I see how many years civilians have to put into a typical job to get that many vacation days. We were incredibly lucky that last summer and this summer we were able to actually go on vacation to Florida, because Addison was out of school.

I do feel like I left out some basics: Like I said before, there are no set working hours for Adam. He leaves the house every morning before 5 a.m. He is usually home sometime after 6 p.m. Every day is different. We are lucky enough that he gets a smattering of three- and four-day weekends here and there. There are also the times he cannot be more than two hours outside of the area. He is in charge of a company of Soldiers. Some of these Soldiers get into trouble. I have been woken up countless times because these guys were arrested for DUI, fighting, you name it. Again, it's the nature of his job.

There's a lot of things people don't know about the military. I have no problem letting people know what military life is like, and that's just as a wife. I'm sure if Adam sat down and wrote out what a typical day is like for him, a lot of people wouldn't even believe him.

I wrote a lot of this in my head today. Typing it out, it's totally different. It sounded great in my head. I think I got my point across. I hope so.

Because this is who I am ...

2010-11-05T15:41:00.002-04:00

I made an important life discovery a few days ago. I had gotten a new friend on Facebook who I don't know in real life but I do know through the Internet. I was thoroughly impressed with her Facebook profile - she's a brainiac. I started feeling bad about myself. Sure, I can rock the socks off anyone while playing Jeopardy! with them, but in the academic sense, I lag seriously behind. I'm okay with this, and this is what I figured out.

That will never be me. I'm not an academic. But, instead of saying, "Oh, I'm not academically smart" I started thinking of everything that I AM. I AM an avid book reader. I AM a really loyal friend. I AM a good wife. I AM a good mother. I AM funny. Instead of being negative and going through everything I'm not (in my own head, especially) I've decided to focus on what I AM. It's a pretty comforting feeling, and affirming. Try it for yourself.

Because I'm a simple girl ...

2010-10-29T15:50:00.002-04:00

Today is the day I've been waiting for for a long time. A crisp Fall evening with my husband and son, with a fire going in the fireplace, some tasty adult beverages, watching a movie together, and BAM ... perfection. I'm way past that point of getting together with others to hang out in a garage and get shitty-ass drunk. Once in awhile, sure, but I haven't seen Adam in over a 100 days - he's been home a week - I'm not ready to share him with the outside world yet. He's gone to work all week (not regular hours, thankfully), and now we get yet another two full days together as a family.

Some deployments rip families and marriages apart. Deployments strengthen ours. We are old enough and mature enough to see what can happen to others, and it makes us appreciate what we have that much more. We lament the fates of others while being more appreciative that we are stronger than ever. We see what war does - wives who cheat, wives who have sex with other men while their husband watches on a webcam overseas (a pure rumor, but Jesus H. Christ, REALLY?), husbands who cheat, all kinds of sick, depraved stuff. I wouldn't believe half of it if I didn't know it wasn't true. I wonder where the truly normal people are. I like to believe we're normal. We don't do that stuff. We don't swing. We are in a very committed, loving marriage. We enjoy our time as a family. We like to do normal stuff - bowling, sightseeing, golf, fishing, what have you.

It seems like there's a whole different world out there, one I don't want to be a part of. I want to live as normal a life as possible. Sure, this isn't always possible. Things happen; shit happens. I refuse to let life break me. I haven't made it this far to let anything break me now. Life's just beginning.

Because I've got my groove back ...

2010-10-26T12:54:00.002-04:00

Go ahead and call me Stella, because my groove is back, in the form of my husband. Every deployment seems endless, regardless of how long it is. It's like time stops moving the moment we say goodbye. But enough of that mushy stuff, because those are feelings I choose not to share with the public. I will keep those for myself and my family.

What I'm really, really wishing for is actual weather that doesn't feel like summer. Summer in Savannah was HOT. As in, I'll leave the house when it's dark, and even then it's still HOT. In my 15 years living in Georgia, I do not remember such a hot summer. The fall is proving to be a warm one also. We had maybe a few days when I could wear pants. Of course, the real Southerners wear pants yearround. I still have enough Yankee in my blood that if it's over 70 degrees I'm in shorts and the Southerners looks at me like I'm crazy because they're in pants, long sleeves, and actual jackets. Crazy asses.

We have near record-breaking temperatures today and tomorrow. I'm biding time until Friday, when the temperature will be about 20 degrees colder. YES! Break out the long johns! Okay, maybe not, but when it's so warm and then gets cool, it feels that much colder. I can't wait.

Because my eyes were opened...

2010-10-08T13:59:00.002-04:00

Yesterday Addison came home from school and asked if we could go to his middle school's football game at 4:30 p.m. "Sure," I told him, because I knew he wanted to go, and I can see the field from my front door, so the fact that it's right there made that decision easy.

His friend was dropped off at our house, we put the leash on the dog, and two minutes later we were at the game. Addison had misplaced his phone, so I told him I'd stay in the same spot so he could find me easily.

Within 30 seconds, I realized I was in 'tween hell. I was instantly transported back to middle school (I went to junior high, if they even still have those. I don't remember sixth grade at all.) In a rush came back all my insecurities. I saw the pretty girls, the ones who were already wearing make-up and getting their hair cut at expensive salons. I saw the rocker chicks, wearing their high-top sneakers and skinny jeans. I saw the nerds, the group of Hispanics kicking around a soccer ball, and the misfits.

I turned and looked around. I saw Addison and his friend talking with other kids, and talking with girls. That's when it hit me, HARD. My son, all 11 years of him, was no longer a little boy. He may not technically be a teenager, but he's in that world already. My heart about broke right there. His simple life of Spongebob reruns is over. His life is now about girls, Facebook, texting, sports, school, and more.

I want to protect him. I want to let him know his heart will be broken; he will have friends who turn out to not be true friends; and many more life lessons we have all learned at some point. But I can't. I can't shelter him forever, and this is the hard part of being a mother.

I've never told anyone, but when I was about six months pregnant, I woke up in the middle of the night one time and couldn't go back to sleep. Something made me go into his nursery and sit in the recliner. Looking down at my stomach and knowing my son was in there unlocked some sort of deep emotion in me. I began crying, and started to talk to God.

"God, please, please, let him be okay. That's all I ask. I promise I will be the best mother possible to him, if you just help me out on this part." I went on like this for awhile, and every so often, I thank God for listening to me that night. I try hard to make good on my promise.

Raising Addison is one of the most rewarding things I've ever done as a human being. I'm proud to say I'm his mother.

Because I need to vent a bit ...

2010-10-07T13:14:00.002-04:00

I'm not going to rant long, but this blog is one of my ways to get frustration out. I can say what I think and don't care who reads it.

I really wish people would stop complaining so damn much. If life's that tough, then you must really suck at it. Believe me, I understand life is hard, and it throws challenges daily, even hourly, to some people. My life is not hard, because I look around and see how much worse it could be. I could have been the pregnant wife with two young children watching her husband's body come out of an airplane in a flag-draped coffin today. That could have been me, but it wasn't. For that reason alone, I will pray very hard for her tonight, and once again count my blessings.

I do not take my blessings lightly. I believe there is something good in everything, every situation, no matter how bleak it may seem. Seeing as I have been a pessimist as long as I can remember, this is something entirely new and different for me. Maybe it's because I've seen what life does to people. People fight over silly things and lose family, people die and never have a chance to say goodbye, people lose good friends because they are selfish and immature, people lose their houses because they lose their jobs, etc. I could go on forever.

If people knew what went on in other's lives, if they for one second thought of someone other than themselves, I believe this world would be that much more caring. I would love to see people appreciate what they have, instead of harping on what they don't. I have everything I've ever wanted out of life. I wish the same for everyone else.

Because it is fitting ...

2010-09-10T13:55:00.002-04:00

Tomorrow morning Addison and I will drive out to the airfield and get a 15-minute video teleconference with Adam. We had one last deployment, and I left that VTC feeling elated. I thought maybe I would be sad and it would make me miss him more, but it proved to be the opposite. I'm thankful for that.

I can't wait to see his face, and hear his voice attached to said face. It seems strange when I think that I haven't seen his face and heard his voice at the same time for 2 months. This sounds weird, I know.

What is fitting is that tomorrow is Sept. 11. I feel incredibly selfish writing this post. What happened to our country 9 years ago tomorrow still takes my breath away. It makes my heart ache. I can't imagine the pain of those who died and those who have lived on without their loved ones. But it was also that day that I realized that Adam would finally be putting his years of training to use - he would be going to war.

I knew our country needed to strike back. I knew Adam was a "go-to-war" Soldier, called upon first when needed. I just never thought it would actually happen. So if I don't feel bad when I see wives complaining that they haven't gotten an email in 24 hours from their husband who is AT WAR, I have my reasons.

Adam left a month after 9/11, after several aborted "Okay, I'm really leaving now." I don't know how many good-byes we had, and then he would come home, for an entire week. It was emotional, to say the least. Finally, they left, and we did not hear anything. We had no communication. The first I saw of what could have possibly been him was footage on CNN of his unit parachuting onto an airfield in Afghanistan on Oct. 19. I know I've talked about this before, so I'm not going to rehash all the feelings, emotions, etc. Suffice it to say, it was one of the hardest times in my life. Thank God Addison was 2 at the time and had no idea what was going on.

I plan on making sure I thank Adam for his service to our country tomorrow, and to ask him to pass on that sentiment from not only me, but all of us over here who so appreciate what they do over there. They do their job, and don't expect anything in return. The least we can do is thank them.

Because I like stuff ...

2010-09-09T16:02:00.004-04:00

Life's not all about complaining, which is easy to do but gets old. Here's what I am loving on lately:

- Sue Heck from the show The Middle, on ABC. She's so naive and so upbeat it's hard not to love her.

-The smell of Gain. I have Gain laundry detergent, fabric softener, dryer sheets, Febreze scented with Gain, and even a Gain-scented Febreze candle. It's a clean scent and very pleasing to the olfactory.

-I picked three pictures from throughout the year and got our Christmas cards made. I love them.

-Antibiotics. I wreaked havoc on my bowels taking a week's worth of Keflex for a staph infection in my face in July. It never quite went away (the infection). I finally got a primary care physician (a civilian - I can't tell you how much this pleases me) and he gave me a Z-Pak. Please, please work antibiotic.

-Online shopping. Seeing the UPS man pull up makes me giddy.

-Warm baths and melatonin. I'm finally sleeping through the night again.

-I love the Capital One commercial with the guy who says his name is "Peggy." It's a funny one.

-The anticipation of Fall. Sure, Fall in the South is nothing like it was growing up in New England; but, I've lived here long enough to wait for that one really hot week of weather, followed by a day of rain and thunderstorms, and then the lessening of the humidity. Bye bye Summer.

-Football. Since my Red Sox are sucking more than a Dyson, my focus is slightly shifting to football. I love football. Not as much as baseball, but I love it nonetheless.

Because I'm a Gleek ...

2010-09-08T10:53:00.003-04:00

I finally watched a full episode of Glee that I recorded last night. It was pretty good, and I'll be watching the new season, no doubt.

Part of the reason I think I liked it so much is that Neil Patrick Harris was a guest star. I LOVE NPH probably to an unhealthy point. I know he's gay. I know he's going to be a dad soon with his partner. It's not so much a physical attraction - it's his sense of humor. I've always been attracted first and foremost to men with a sense of humor above all other qualities. How else can I attribute attractions to Johnny Knoxville, John Ritter, Tony Danza, etc.? They're funny. They may not be the best looking guys ever, but when someone has a killer sense of humor, they are that much more attractive to me.

NPH seems like a guy I'd like to hang out with. I just started watching How I Met Your Mother, and seeing him portray a skirt-chasing man-pig makes me love him that much more. He's a great actor, end of story.

I also have to be honest - Matthew Morrison is HOT. His hair is so wavy and he was dancing and it was pretty awesome.

I'm a Gleek, and proud.

Because I'm reading this now ...

2010-09-03T12:59:00.004-04:00

I finished Star Island by Carl Hiaasen. It was a good, funny read, but after I finished it I wondered the the actual point of the book was. Maybe I'm not the best grasper of the point of a book unless it's right there in my face. Regardless, I enjoyed reading it.

Now I'm reading Freedom by Jonathan Franzen. He wrote The Corrections, which I've never read, but did download last week. I believe I bought it back in 2002 when it was published, but wasn't quite ready to read it. Now it looks a lot more interesting to me. I truly believe that as I get older, I'm a lot more open to reading new things, things I wouldn't have touched back in my early to mid-20s. I think I just really like learning, especially since I have no job and am not the most social person. I like being by myself, I'm comfortable with myself to spend hours alone. Of course, I do miss Addison when he's at school.

Anyway, I've been sick since yesterday, a fever (hopefully I'm sweating off some of these nonsmoker pounds) and I always think, "Oh, I'm stuck on the couch sick, what a great time to read." Duh. I always forget that when I'm sick I'm useless, and pretty much sleep the sleep of the sick. When I'm awake I watch t.v., because that's how sick I am, too sick to do anything else. I was so damn cold last night, I was shivering, but sweating, and had to wait for Addison to come in from outside to ask him to run a hot bath for me. I was miserable!

Today's better, but I'm still sweating this fever out. This might be a good reading day - in between washing all the sick stuff (sheets, clothes, etc.)

Because I'm reading this ...

2010-08-27T16:16:00.002-04:00

This is what I'm reading now. I've read another Carl Hiaasen book (of course I can't remember which one) and I enjoyed him, so I'm giving this one a whirl.

Because I'm growing up ...

2010-08-27T16:02:00.002-04:00

Finally, finally I seem to be maturing. I'm still "fun" Erin, but over this deployment I've realized that it's okay to be quiet. I don't feel the need to share every little thing with the world, whether it be by text, phone, e-mail, Facebook, blog, etc. I'm comfortable in my own skin, in my life, and with choices I've made throughout my life.

What you won't catch me doing (at least I hope not): Complaining about things I have no control over. Sometimes it's just a lot easier to go with the flow. Complaining is annoying, especially when there are so many others who are either going through the same thing or there are others who have it worse. It's okay to do what you have to do, but if you can't get over something after a certain amount of time, it's time to do something about it. Whining isn't attractive. It makes people not want to be around you. Sympathy baiters just don't do it for me. Grab your balls and take care of business.

I am enjoying my quiet life. Though I don't enjoy deployments (that sounds wrong, no one enjoys deployments, duh) I really believe it gives both myself and Adam time to grow as individuals, and it also strengthens our marriage, because with each deployment, we grow as a couple. It's amazing to me, really, but it's true.

I have no idea where I'm going with this post. I lost all train of thought because I'm watching the Little League World Series. My bad. I'll try to collect my thoughts from now on.

What I have been thinking about is sharing more about one of my true loves: books. I love to read. I want to share what I read. So that may be on the plate. I'll think about it.

Because I can relate ...

2010-08-22T15:01:00.003-04:00

I'm 36 years old - not young, yet not old. I feel sort of stuck in an age limbo - I can easily hang out with a 21-year-old as I can with a 43-year-old. I have friends of all ages, and I'm sick of people thinking that just because you're that much older or younger than someone you can't be good friends. Maybe I'm just appealing to the masses. That sounds much better.

In the meantime, I am reading this book. I am relating to it, for the most part. I'm realizing you're either my age and have a child over 10 or a child younger than 5. There really doesn't seem to be an in-between. Of course there is, I'm not a total idiot, but for some reason it seems this way. So, while I don't understand what it's like to be 40 and have toddlers, I do understand that feeling of not being young yet not being old.

Because this is who I am ...

2010-08-10T12:59:00.003-04:00

You know who I will never be? I will never be the woman who classifies herself as a "Mom." I'm aware I am a mother, but I am also so much more than that. I'm not going to list it all here, because that would just be boring. I think it's nice when women see themselves as first and foremost a mother, but I also feel badly when that's all they see themselves as.

If I see one more blog by a "mommyblogger" who thinks she's the only woman to ever procreate, I will probably cry. Come on, ladies ... while it's easy to fall into the a world of apple juice and graham crackers, don't forget who you are, besides being Little Johnny's mom.

Because it happened ...

2010-07-29T22:55:00.002-04:00

I've finally grown up. Matured. Whatever you want to call it, I've changed. I do not give a shit, two shits, or a whole toilet full of crap about stupid things anymore. More specifically, stupid people. I don't understand most people and why they act they way they do. Last deployment I suddenly came into my own self-confidence-wise. This deployment seems to be one of I just don't care about silly stuff.

I would delete my Facebook account in a second if it didn't mean I would lose contact with those people I do care about, but may not have contact with otherwise. Sounds weird, I know, but trust me, I know what I'm talking about. What I hate is people whining, complaining, sympathy baiting, etc. I don't expect everyone to use Facebook to express how much they enjoy life and how great it is. It can be a good sounding board, but sometimes I really don't give a shit. Get over yourself. Seriously. Get over yourself. Your shit smells, you pick your nose and masturbate just like everyone else.

This isn't meant to air any rancor. I actually started this Bud Light-fueled post as a homage to one of the smartest, funniest, most loyal friends I've ever known. Jennifer I.M.C., that would be you. I was such an asshole at times during our friendship, yet you've always been there. I felt like I was always trying to tell you how beautiful you were all the time, yet I'd be at your house, and you'd be excited because you just got a new diet pill in the mail. I love you, we all love you, because you're you. Love doesn't know numbers, unless you happen to be a Real Housewife. Then it's bankruptcy or bust, baby. My point is, I am reminded several times a week how lucky I am at the ripe age of 36 to have had a true friend since the age of 14, when, in our freshman math class, she introduced herself to me by saying, "Hi, I'm Jen. Most new people don't like me." I swear by this. I had just moved to Cape Cod. Everyone should have a friend like her. The world would be such a better place. Even Bin Laden would come out of his cave to spend time with this classy woman.

That's my diatribe. From now on, I'll try not to drink and blog. I'm honest when I'm sober, I'm honest when I'm drinking, I just tend to be a little more sappy when slushy.

Because it's lost ...

2010-07-14T17:37:00.002-04:00

I seemingly lost my sense of humor sometime in the last few days or weeks. Just because Adam deployed doesn't mean I have to suck the fun out of life. It really sucks here without him. It takes some getting used to when there's 3 of us all together, all the time (mostly, unless Adam's at work or they're out fishing). You'd figure by the 8th time I'd be used to it.

It might get easier in some ways, but also each deployment brings about new and different challenges. Such is life. I'll deal, and be grateful for what I do have. Namely, a kickass kid and a dog who keeps us entertained because she's cute and stupid.

Because life's busy ...

2010-06-09T14:45:00.002-04:00

It's been awhile since I blogged, I know. I've been busting my ass trying to finish my last two classes for my Medical Transcription certificate. I finally finished my second-to-last-class yesterday, and figured, I'm good, I have 5 weeks once we get back from vacation to finish my last class.

HAHAHA, joke's on me. I looked at the class today. I have an average of about 20 transcriptions per unit (with a total of 8 units). I trucked through all my other classes, and thought, "I'm way ahead of the game." And I was. I'm going through Kaplan University, which offers the course for 6 months, as compared to 1 year like other schools. Now I see why it could take a year. One transcription could take me 10 minutes, or it could take me an hour. It's impossible to say until I get into it. Most of it is a lot of research to make sure I have the correct drug, word, etc. It's labor intensive, to say the least.

So today I coughed up $50 for peace of mind. Why? We're on vacation next week. Right after, Addison will be in the All-Star games for Pooler. His first game is at 11 a.m. June 21. That's just the sub-districts. If we end up going to the state tournament, it will be out-of-town. Adam will be leaving soon. Addison will be out of school. There's a lot of factors that prompted me to pay the $50 for a month's extension. I hate stress, and there's about to be a lot coming up. I'm a month and a half smoke-free, and don't want to start again because of stress.

This is starting to bore even me, but I feel much better now.

Orlando or BUST!!!!!!

Because I'm always thinking...

2010-05-18T11:28:00.002-04:00

I've got two things on my mind today.

The first is how disappointed people make me. Grown adults, who can't get over themselves and their own egos, for the better of 10- and 11-year-old boys. Boys who like to play baseball, and be with their friends are pretty much without a team because adults act more immature than the children. I'm sad for Addison if the rumor that his travel ball team is being disbanded is true. Sure, it will free up our weekends for more family time, and this is important to me now, since we only have a few weeks before Adam leaves yet again, but Addison really enjoyed it, and it was good experience for him. I'm trying hard to get over this, but when my child is hurt or disappointed, Mama Bear takes over.

The second is this: I need to get over myself. I need to stop being such a bitch, and wanting recognition for the smallest things. Do I really need Adam to acknowledge every single thing I do for the house, the kid, the family? No. A small acknowledgement every now and then would be nice, sure. But not for everything.

Last night, he asked, "Do you even pay the bills?" I felt slighted. Of course I pay the bills! Many, many years ago when we had no money, I tried to put off paying the bills as long as possible. As soon as we were financially stable, I paid them, all of them, as soon as they showed up in my e-mail or the mailbox. I pointed out that his water wouldn't be coming out of the tap, and that the light that was on would not be on if I had not paid the bill. It made me feel like he really doesn't know what I do around the house. I was snide when IMing him this morning. I said, "Ttyl. Gotta go to the grocery store, because the food in the house doesn't just magically show up you know." Maybe I was bitchy, maybe it felt kind of good to be a bitch.

I like doing what I do for the boys. I like to cook and clean, so they don't live in filth or eat shitty meals. I even got ice cream and cones, so we can have a nice dessert tonight.

I'll try from now on to just know that what I do is what I do. I don't need cartwheels and fireworks every time I scrub the toilet or fold the laundry. I know what I do, and I'll be happy with that.

Because I'm a non-smoker now...

2010-05-14T12:11:00.003-04:00

I've been a non-smoker for almost two weeks now. It's been surprisingly easy, especially since I'm using the patch. I really don't miss it. I suppose the pull of wanting to live a healthy, longer life appealed more to me than smoking. Who will teach my grandkids (in 20 years, thank you very much) how to fetch beers if I'm dead?

Along with not smoking, I'm exercising. Not because I like it so much, although the endorphins are pretty awesome, but because I'm eating like a heifer. At least I'm aware of it, so I don't end up looking like Roseanne, but still ... I had a really hard time not buying the humongous box of Snickers today at Sam's. I would probably sit down and eat about 10 in one sitting. My appetite has returned, I can smell my food, and damn, I like to eat now. Wonderful. I'm really hoping the exercise keeps the fat off. It looks like it's Fruit City from here on out.

Because it's day two...

2010-05-05T14:04:00.003-04:00

Adam and I started the nicotine patch yesterday in an attempt to kick our habits (snuff for him, cigs for me). I am determined to be a non-smoker, and for a lot of reasons. I like looking young and still getting carded. I want to live to see my grandkids. I'm stupid enough to have been smoking with mild asthma for the past 17 years. I know, DUH. I've had enough sickness that I know what it's like to not be able to breathe properly. I don't ever want to have that feeling permanently. I'd have to call Jack Kevorkian.

The nicotine addiction is bad. But, with the help of the patch, tolerable. For me, it's all about filling in that extra time I so often spent outside smoking. Yesterday I got down on my hands and knees with a nail brush and cleaned my kitchen tile floor with Clorox Clean-Up. I scrubbed the shit out of it, and now have a very clean floor. I even got the grout clean again.

Today I scrubbed my shower. If you have hard water, you know how hard this can be. I swear by the Scrubbing Bubbles in the blue can and a yellow Dobie pad. Just put a little ass into it and it actually gets clean. I tried everything for my glass shower door. Again, I swear by spraying a little cooking spray on it and rubbing it in. Voila!

So I'm keeping busy. I'm treating this like a competition, because no one, absolutely no one, beats me. Okay, Adam beats me at most things (except basketball - I'm 5'2" and he's 6'3", but the boy has no game), but this is one showdown I'm going to win.

Because this is what I'm digging...

2010-05-04T11:32:00.002-04:00

I'm very decidely a creature of habit. When I was in the second grade I ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch, every single day. When I find something I like, I stick with it.

I do like some variety though. I find myself obsessed (not creepy-like, just interested in) different things. They may vary from day to day, week to week, etc. You know what I mean.

This is what I'm digging on right now:

*History. I've always liked history, but never got into it. It's Adam's thing. He's a history major. I started watching the History Channel documentary series "America The Story of Us" and I'm now really, really interested in everything history-related. I find myself wanting to know every detail of the Pilgrims (which I always liked anyway), the Revolutionary War, etc.

*Betty White. I've always loved her. Suddenly everyone else does too. Well, I've loved her since I was a teenager, when I watched the Golden Girls every Saturday night.

*Books. I've downloaded more than I can read on my Kindle, but it's a comfort thing for me. I like to know I have a lot of different books available for me to read at any one time. Today I bought Laura Bush's book, Spoken from the Heart, The Imperfectionists: A Novel, and Shit My Dad Says. I also ordered Jen Lancaster's new book to be delivered since it's not available on the Kindle, at least not yet. I really, really hope it makes it here by Friday like Amazon said.

*Candles. Okay, this is nothing new. I'm obsessed with candles. I enjoy everything about candles. I love buying new candles. Right now I'm into fruity, tropical scents, maybe because it's been HOT here in Savannah.

*Hockey. I'm loving the way the Bruins are plowing through games and opponents. I've always loved hockey, but don't get a lot of opportunities to watch the Bruins. It's fun to get into the game, yell at the t.v., and high five Adam when we score.

Here's what I'm not digging: the shitty way the Red Sox are playing; cleaning; schoolwork. I know this is all normal.

Because I'm trying hard...

2010-04-23T12:09:00.002-04:00

I'm a t-shirt and shorts kind of girl. I like to be comfortable. In the winter, I'm one of those people wearing the velour J.Lo pantsets, because they're so damn comfy. Not the most fashionable, I know, but I do make sure there are never any words blazing across my backside.

Every Spring I get a wild hair up my ass and decide that this year I will "girlify" myself. I love sundresses, I like cute tops, but I never feel really comfortable in them. I don't think I really have a "style" per se, so I'm trying to discover that. I suppose I'm most comfortable in the preppy style, since I spent my high school years wearing Polo and LL Bean, but I DO NOT want to look like a 15-year-old. It's hard to be stylish without looking like I'm trying to revert back 20 years. What's a girl to do?

Because I'll accept all forms of money....

2010-04-22T14:39:00.002-04:00

Um, Red Sox Nation, you're welcome? That's two wins in a row since I told the Sox to get their heads out of their asses and play some baseball. Apparently they listened. Not only were they wins, they were wins in spectacular, I-yelled-so-loud-and-jumped-out-of-my-recliner-and-scared-the-dog-away way.

Adam was at work Tuesday night when I sent him the IM that said, "We won, we won, we won! Darnell McDonald got a walk-off hit off the Monstah! Who the fuck is Darnell McDonald?"

I know him now. Dude is awesome. Don't send him back to Pawtucket, Tito. I'm already planning on managing his campaign to run for president in 2012, he needs as much exposure right now as he can get if I'm going to get him in the White House. And Tito, like I told Theo the Wonderkid, as much as I love the Papi, he's got to go. Keep Lowell in there. Was that homerun last night not enough proof to you?

So, RSN, again, you're welcome. If we hit the skids again, you're on your own.

Because it worked last year...

2010-04-19T15:12:00.002-04:00

I really didn't think I'd need to be writing this two weeks into the season, but once again, the Red Sox are shittin' the bed.

This happened at the beginning of last season. Loss after loss after loss prompted me to take to my blog and publicly decry their crappy play. So, here I am again. I'm not asking, Sox, I'm TELLING. Get your shit together. Theo, if you have to pay someone to take Papi, as much I love him and the clutch hitting he's done in the past, do it. He sucks. And if you are paying someone that much money and they're not doing their job, you fire them. It happens in real life. I know, contracts and yada yada yada, but do the right thing.

I have so much Sox gear, yet I really don't feel like parading around in it like I usually do, year round here in Georgia. I'm still a part of RSN, I'm no bandwagoner, but seriously boys, let's start playing some baseball.

Because it was a thrill of a lifetime...

2010-03-18T12:53:00.003-04:00

Yesterday was St. Patrick's Day, and if you know about SPD, you know it's a huge party in Savannah, an entire weeklong celebration.

We had our military ball on March 13, and of course, hit the bars afterward. There's nothing quite like partying in downtown Savannah with revelers in their green garb and get-ups. Needless to say, I had such an incredible time I wish we could do it every weekend.

One of the best things about being stationed in Savannah is the tremendous support of the military here. It's a stark contrast to Fort Benning and Columbus, where you had to hide the unit, because no one liked us. Adam's unit is always in the St. Patrick's Day parade. I didn't make it last year, because our dog was on his last legs and couldn't have gone that long without being let out.

Anyway, this year I went. It was one of the best, most thrilling days of my life. They provided a bus for us wives to get downtown, so as to not have to battle traffic. Our bus was behind the guys' bus, and we all had a police escort downtown. It was so cool to see people on the sides of the road waving at the guys and giving them a thumbs up.

The tradition in Savannah is that the girls (old, young, in-between) don red lipstick, and go out and kiss the military men. I had my lip gloss on, and gave my camera to my friend to take the picture of me kissing Adam when he marched by. As soon as I saw him coming down the street, I took off like a bat out of hell and immediately stuck my lips on his. We were hugging and kissing to the point where the parade-goers behind us were yelling, "WOOHOO!!!" I was so overcome with emotion and pride.

It was truly, truly, one of those moments that I will constantly replay in my head for the rest of my life, because it was just that amazing.

Because it seems to be working...

2010-03-10T16:24:00.003-05:00

So the Happiness Project seems to be working pretty well for me. Every once in a while, throughout the day, I have to remind myself, "You're happy. You're doing all this laundry because you love your family and want them to have clean undies." I'm not forcing myself to be happy, more like gently reminding myself to find happiness in even the most mundane activities.

I was reading a blog and the writer was talking about muffins. Since everyone is on a cupcake kick, I decided I'll go on a muffin kick. I made banana nut muffins last night, thinking I would reach for one this morning when I was hungry. Yeah right. Those donuts from Wal-Mart were screaming at me to eat them. I couldn't let perfectly good donuts go to waste, even if I was the one who bought them. After reaching for my fourth one yesterday, and trying to close the box, I got a cardboard cut. Like a papercut, my worse. Okay, God, I get it, I don't need to cram four donuts into my flabby self. Point taken.

Today I went to Kroger and bought what I needed to make the boys REAL blueberry muffins, none of that shit from a package. Because it makes me happy to cook and bake from scratch for my boys.

Because it really is a choice...

2010-03-08T15:08:00.003-05:00

I downloaded a book, The Happiness Project, by Gretchen Rubin, to my Kindle a few weeks ago. It looked interesting, and I finally got around to reading it over the course of a day or two. (I have time to read, that makes me happy.)

It's hard to sum up the book in just a few sentences. This is what I got from it: Yes, even though I have a great life, in my opinion, there's always room for more happiness. I can change my attitude to make myself happier, and in turn, that makes those around me happier also, even if they don't realize it.

One thing I have been doing, which was talked about in the book (score one point for me) was using things today, and not waiting for tomorrow, because we're never guaranteed tomorrow. Now, I don't have china to use or really fancy undies, but I do have something I love that I surround myself with - candles. I buy $25 ones, I buy $2.50 ones, but I love them all the same. Being cheap, I tend to only light them when someone is coming over, or I want a cozy atmosphere when it's cold outside.

When I started my Anatomy & Physiology course, I realized right away I absolutely hated it. I know, great attitude, Erin. BUT, what I thought was going to be interesting turned out to be SCIENCE. I hate Science almost as much as I hate Math. I took the prerequisites I had to in high school, then chose less taxing classes, like Foods, where my cooking partners had a dime bag of weed they wanted to mix into the brownies we were making. Way to challenge myself, I know.

Anyway, when I sat down at the dining room table with my A&P book, I lit a candle. It wasn't necessarily for the smell (although cinnamon vanilla really does rock the nostrils) but more because it made me HAPPY. What was the harm in burning a $1.50 candle (yes, it was on clearance at Wally World) to make crappy classwork more enjoyable? Absolutely nothing, and it made finishing that class (which I did in less than two weeks, I really do impress myself sometimes) that much more enjoyable.

I'm further exploring the whole "Happiness Project" to see what else I can do to make myself happier. It may sound selfish, but really, if I'm happier, I know it will make everyone around me happier too. At least, I'm hoping so.

Because he's not a baby anymore...

2010-02-24T13:40:00.002-05:00

I bought Addison the Wii game Boom Blox Smash Party for getting all A's on his report card, and yesterday afternoon we started playing it. I suppose we both have addictive personalities to a fault, so when it was time to start cooking supper, I said screw it, let's go grab some Burger King, even though Whoppers usually do a number on my bowels, but hell, I wanted one.

We had the windows down (it was that nice, ahhhh) and I glanced over at him, and it just hit me...he's not a baby anymore. He's not a toddler. He's a "tweener," those kids who are not yet teenagers but not little kids anymore either. My heart just about broke then and there. I didn't feel old, that wasn't the problem. I can't quite place my finger on it, but I realized that he'll be 11 years old in June. 11! Where did time go? I never listened to those people who told me, "They grow up so fast! Enjoy the time now." I liked him more and more the older he got, but now, maybe for just a day, I want my little boy back. The five-year-old, blond-haired, blue-eyed sweetheart who didn't know what Facebook was (and get asked out by girls on it), didn't talk back and didn't question everything I told him to do.

My heart broke just a little more when he texted me from his bed, "How old do I have to be to kiss girls?" I answered him back with, "38." We texted back a few more times (he asked, "For real?") and I finally told him that it would be up to him, that I wasn't going to put rules on stuff like that. I was glad we discussed it, even via texting, because it's hard for a boy to talk about stuff like that with his mom, especially me, who is extremely blunt with him and tells it like it is, which of course embarrasses him.

I can't reverse time, but I can learn to appreciate every single moment I spend with him, which I fully intend on doing.

Because I can say I've been busy and won't be lying...

2010-02-09T18:30:00.002-05:00

It's been a pretty great couple of weeks.

I resigned from a volunteer position that sucked the life out of me, and also made me realize a lot of people live in their own little worlds, entirely selfish worlds and can't admit anything unpleasant to themselves. But enough of that, I've moved on, and know reality will be a bitch when they wake up.

The very next day, I enrolled in a program for military spouses that pays up to $6,000 for schooling. I've always been interested in medical transcription, but I was always too cheap to pay for the schooling. My friend told me about the program, and within a few days I was accepted into the medical transcription certificate program through Kaplan University, with everything paid for by MyCAA. Score!

I'm fully immersed in my first real class, Medical Language, and I absolutely love it. I would spend all day every day doing the work if I could. I find every single aspect of it intriguing, and I love learning.

Needless to say, this is one of the best things I've ever done for myself. I can't wait for all my next courses, and the best thing is that before July, I'll have my certificate in hand, ready to work, from home...being not much of a people person (the general public irritates the living shit out of me) it's a perfect job for me.

It's never too late or too early to begin something new. It's felt so great, so refreshing to start a new chapter in life.

Because I'm going to need lots of tissues...

2010-01-12T11:09:00.002-05:00

Thursday afternoon will be tough. It's the day we will honor our unit's three fallen Soldiers with a memorial.

Adam decided to volunteer me to be the FRG representative several years ago for a memorial at our old battalion. When I got there, and saw I was smack in the front row, between the two families, I panicked. I didn't know their sons, I didn't know them, and I felt very uncomfortable.

Everything was fine until they did rollcall. I was absolutely devastated when the sergeant major was calling out for the fallen Soldiers. For a split second, I wondered, "Doesn't he know they've passed away? Why is he calling for them? Why isn't anyone telling him they're not here?" Then I realized it's a tradition, and the sergeant major hadn't gone batshit crazy. That's when my tears started. I could hear the families crying, and I could not stop my own tears from falling. Though I didn't know the Soldiers, rollcall will drive the toughest nut to crack and cry. It's incredibly sad. Then, of course, they played Taps.

This will happen again at the memorial Thursday afternoon, when we will honor three incredibly brave men who gave the ultimate sacrifice for their country, for all of us. These men will rightly be honored, and many tears have and will be shed for them, mine included. RLTW.

Because I'm totally lame ...

2010-01-07T13:03:00.003-05:00

I like variety, especially when I'm shopping. That said, I shopped for 13 years at the commissary on Fort Benning, because it really was a hell of a lot cheaper than "real" grocery stores.

Since moving, I now go to regular grocery stores, and have been patronizing the nearest Food Lion for the past year. It's incredibly better than shopping at the commissary, even if it is more expensive. It's not worth my time or gas to drive to the commissary on Hunter Army Airfield - it's tiny and I hate always having to tip the baggers when I'm very well capable of putting the bags in my car.

Today I was giddy when I found a Kroger within a 10-minute drive of our house. I'm not one to foray into the unknown (we've driven around the area, but never to this part of town) so I looked up the store online and followed the directions. It was like pulling into the parking lot of heaven. A Starbucks, inside the store? Hell yeah, give me a LARGE (I feel stupid saying venti) coffee. For some reason, the bigger the store, the more comfortable I feel. I browsed around that store for a good 45 minutes, amazed they sell pots and pans and even coffee makers.

I know this is quite normal for regular people, which is why I feel pretty lame being this excited. Sometimes it's nice to feel like a "normal" person, not part of the military community. Don't get me wrong, I love the military life, and will miss it someday, but after 13 years of living on post, I'm really enjoying living among civilians, in a regular house we pay a mortgage on, and shopping at regular grocery stores.

Because, really, it is winter ....

2010-01-06T11:45:00.002-05:00

It's cold, and that seems to be all anyone wants to talk about.
No shit it's cold, it's January. There's a season called Winter, and it's currently happening.

Sure, it's colder than it's "supposed" to be. It happens. You know when it feels like a million degrees in the Summer? That's what's happening, just in reverse.

I am digging the cold. Sometimes I actually miss the New England winters of my youth, though not very often. I like a little taste of it now and then. Of course, if it's still like this in two weeks, I'll be among the bitching. For now, I'm going to enjoy the sweaters, blankets, fires in the fireplace and warm comfort food courtesy of Paula Deen and sons' cookbooks.

Because I'm turning into freakin' Martha ...

2010-01-05T12:16:00.002-05:00

I have no clue why, but lately I'm the goddess of domestic. I wake up and start thinking about what I can clean. I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, because in the last two (almost three) years of not working, I have not been the best housewife I could have been. Who wouldn't rather sit on their ass watching t.v.? Not everyone is lazy like me, and I'd prefer to lounge on the couch and read a book, read a magazine, stalk people on Facebook or anything besides clean.

So what has gotten into me? I guess I've finally grasped the concept that I am a housewife, and this is my job. No one else is going to dust the furniture, because, really, between Adam and Addison, they are male and don't notice dust. They also don't notice that the toilet bowl is big enough to be able to get all their urine inside it, not on the outside. I'm thinking of trying to get them to sit when peeing. Maybe I'll stitch up a sampler of the tried but true, "If you sprinkle when you tinkle, be a sweetie, wipe the seatie."

Regardless, I feel good having a clean house and underwear in my drawer, not languishing in a basket. I have found out I can cook. I'm not spectacular and will never be invited to be on The Next Food Network Star, but I've moved beyond tacos and beef stew. I even bought myself a Paula Deen hand grater, and a zester, because everyone needs a zester, right?

Because I'm trying out this whole honesty thing...

2009-12-16T10:31:00.002-05:00

Not-so-breaking-news...Adam has been home a week. YAY! It was a most joyous homecoming, and I've never been happier to have him home after an especially hellacious deployment.

Here's where I'm honest - there's a fair amount of guilt associated with his homecoming, and with my own happiness. I can't help but think of the wife who's husband came home in a casket 3 1/2 months ago. It's almost Christmas, and she doesn't have that opportunity to spend it with her husband. I can't even imagine what pain she must feel, and because of this, I feel a modicum of guilt feeling so happy. I don't want to feel guilty, but I do. It's not overwhelming, but it affects me. Maybe I'm more sensitive than I ever thought. How many of the other wives/girlfriends are thinking about her, or are so selfish they are only focused on themselves?

Or is it not selfishness? I really don't know. I'm confused as to how I should feel about this. I don't think I'll ever forget hearing that news. It will stay with me the rest of my life. Hopefully, with time, that pain will subside. For the widow, though, it's probably a lifetime. My thoughts and prayers are always, always with her.

Because it's again one of those days...

2009-12-03T13:37:00.002-05:00

It's another one of those days, when I want nothing to do with anyone or anything. Unfortunately, I have a meeting tonight I have to show up to. It's a good meeting, but I don't feel like I'm able to paste a smile on and be happy to see a bunch of other wives. I'm sure once I get there I'll be fine, but a lot of times I have a hard time keeping my mouth shut, especially when someone really irks the shit out of me.

I've been cleaning all day, and it's been therapeutic for the most part. It's always nice to have a spotless bathroom. That is, until I use the pot tomorrow morning.

I'll get over it, and tomorrow's another day. I hate falling into a funk, hate it hate it hate it. I wish I could kick my own ass some days.

Because it is Thanksgiving, after all...

2009-11-24T14:46:00.003-05:00

I feel sort of guilty, because I'm not that upset that Adam will not be here for Thanksgiving. There are several factors why:

* This isn't the first, and it won't be the last holiday he's been gone. Good lord, I think we've covered every holiday, birthday, anniversary, etc. without him. It's not that I get used to it, I am just a bit jaded by now.

* Obviously I'm not throwing around timeframes, but he will be home sooner than later. Of course I miss him, and wish he could be here, but he can't. He's at war - it's his job, and we chose this life - so I understand.

* We have family coming to spend Thanksgiving with us. Thank God my brother-in-law can cook, because the Moroz sisters just aren't very proficient cooks. We can, but we are also smart enough to have married good men that can cook. Mama didn't raise no dummies.

* To Adam, it's just another day over there. I know I will hear the sadness in his voice, that he can't be with us, and I will do my best to let him know that yes, I miss him and wish he could be here, but at the same time, try to keep it lighthearted. I can always tell when he's sort of sad, because his voice gets really low and monotone.

I suppose I sound pretty bitchy, writing a whole post about not being upset my husband isn't here for Thanksgiving. This year, I am most thankful he is alive. There are many wives, husbands, brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, etc. who will never, ever share the holidays with their loved ones again. That hits home, and shows me the bigger picture of life.

Happy Thanksgiving, please don't forget about our troops overseas who will not be with their family, and keep yours that much closer.

Because I procrastinate...

2009-11-18T09:37:00.003-05:00

Before every deployment, I come up with tons of stuff to keep me busy - paint the bathroom, make everyone scarves for Christmas, clean out the attic, etc. I guess I do this as a way to ease my mind, that I will keep myself busy and also accomplish something along the way.

Have I done any of this? Yeah, I painted the bathroom and the vanity and replaced the silver stuff with bronze. It took me weeks, but I was very busy with the logistics of tragedy and being an FRG leader.

Now that the end is sort of in sight, I'm rushing around like a damn fool. I need to clean! I need to buy every single thing for Thanksgiving dinner! I need to get the guest room ready by next Wednesday!

In reality, it's not much. It just feels like it, because I didn't do much during the deployment, always pushing it off, thinking I had plenty of time.

Here's where I could really kick my own ass - I was told that our company HAD to spend our money that was so generously donated. I had to come up with something within a few hours. I'm not a good thinker under pressure, and usually my brain farts one of those juicy, better-check-your-panties farts. You know which ones I mean.

I decided, oh, it would be nice to make an ornament for each and every wife in the company. After some trial and tribulation, I think I've figured it out (and lots of anger and frustration). It will be time and labor-intensive, but I think anything handmade is always nice. Then I tallied up how many wives....55. Fifty-fucking-five. I'm a glutton for punishment.

Because people are ridiculous...

2009-11-13T10:12:00.002-05:00

It's the never-ending debate - working moms versus stay-at-home moms. I think it's utterly ridiculous, and would be quite happy to never see a single word written about it again. When I'm done, of course.

Why, as mothers, do we judge each other so harshly? Who gives anyone the right to judge what we choose to do with our own lives? I believe that the most outspoken ones (on both sides) are those that are the most miserable, and choose to target the other women for their choices in a pathetic attempt to justify their own choices. I could be totally wrong, but I see no other valid reason for some women to criticize anyone else's life.

In fact, I see no reason for anyone to judge someone by how they choose to live their life. It's the reason why I only have a few close friends...I don't like people up my ass, in my business. Since moving to a small town, I have heard more gossip about people I have never met than in my entire life. I live and let live, and while I have a certain amount of curiosity of how others live, I could care less. I am the happiest I have ever been in my entire life (current deployment not included).

If someone wants to judge me for not working, fuck 'em. I made the decision after working for 10 years (mostly at-home, and when I did go into the office, my son was with me) to quit, because the office decided that children were no longer welcome. I packed up my shit and resigned that day. My family will always come first. Because Adam is either deployed, training, or working long hours, I want Addison to have a constant presence of at least one parent around.

It's hard enough worrying if his dad will return from overseas (and the poor kid had a nightmare that Adam died ... that will break any mother's heart). He knows I am here every day when he gets home from school, even though he says he'd prefer me to be gone at least half an hour. He's exerting that independence recently, which I will not quash, but I would like him to have that comfort right now.

I don't give two shits whether you are a working mom or a stay-at-home mom, or somewhere in between. Live your own life, and quit worrying what everyone else is doing with theirs.

Because every day is different...

2009-11-09T09:54:00.002-05:00

I'll admit it - yesterday sucked. Sundays are the days I feel the loneliest, when I wish I had any sort of family within a reasonable driving distance. They're super depressing, especially when I read on Facebook how people are snuggling on the couch with their husbands, watching football, having family day, or having dinner with their parents. I'm insanely jealous of those people.

Today's better. I have a spark of energy. I have a better attitude. I refuse to sit around feeling sorry for myself, even though it's so much easier. I'm a fighter, not a lover, and will fight the loneliness until he's back home. Addison and I are counting down the days (even though we don't have a set date yet, just a general idea). That makes it easier, knowing it's closer on the horizon than it was yesterday. Until then, I'm counting my blessings every single moment of every single day. I highly recommend it...you might realize life isn't so bad.

Because I am keeping up with the Joneses....

2009-10-30T15:41:00.002-04:00

Today I decided to mix up my exercise routine (which usually consists of either walking on the treadmill in the garage or walking the track down the street) and walked to some of the other housing developments in our general vicinity. I'm highly nosy, and like to see how people decorate their yards.

I was amazed at the number of houses that seemed to just not give two shits what the outside of their home looked like. There were a lot that looked really nice, who had pretty palms and flowers, don't get me wrong. And I can only assume that the 20+ houses who leave their garage door open about a foot do it because they have a cat. If I was a burglar (and I'm not sure why my mind thinks like this), I could totally shimmy me and my ghetto booty under that door and be in their house, lickety split.

When I got home 2.5 miles later, I tried to look objectively at my own house, and see what others would see through their eyes. Ummm, yeah, I'm an ass...the grass needs to be cut, I need to de-leaf the landscaping, weed out the old dead shit, etc. It's not that bad, but bad enough to where Addison and I will be spending some time on it this weekend. I hate doing yard work. Adam and Addison do the yard work. The inside is my job.

It's about time I stop pretending like there is no outside of the house and take care of it. Adam's not here, and hasn't been for weeks and weeks and weeks. Thank God Addison asks if he can mow. Do it to it, Boy.

Because this is reality, dear...

2009-10-29T14:26:00.003-04:00

I've heard a lot of complaining the last few months, I've read a lot of complaining, I've done my own complaining. Complaining amongst the wives about this and that (not getting a phone call every day, not getting every detail about every single thing going on with the guys, etc.)

Here's where I might sound unjustly cruel. Get over it. It's not all about you. Our men are at WAR, and if they call you once a week, be grateful. Be grateful your husband is alive and well. Others aren't that lucky, and will never talk to their husband on the phone again, crappy connection, dropped calls and all.

I'm sorry if your husband's job is an inconvenience to you. He volunteered to join the Army, he volunteered to be in this unit, he might have even signed the dotted line more than once. Not all of us knew exactly what we were getting into, dating or marrying this type of Soldier, but most of us did, or have chosen to keep living this life. It's not an easy life, but no one ever promised life would be easy. If they did, you should find them, and kick their ass for lying to you.

No doubt we also sacrifice for our husbands and their jobs. But to complain constantly is not going to change anything. That's not to say I don't complain, because sometimes it helps to vent. I'm not perfect...far from it. I don't particularly like reality. But I'm doing my best every day to deal with it, and realize the guys are busy. Let them do their jobs. God knows they'd much rather be home with us, going to our kids' sports events, carving pumpkins, watching football on Sunday, and so on. But they aren't. And no amount of complaining is going to change it.

Because it's just a box...

2009-10-28T11:48:00.003-04:00

You'd think I'd be an expert by now. I'm not. I'm very care package-challenged when it comes to putting together a box to send to Adam.

I started sending him packages in 2001. At that time, though, the box could be no bigger than a shoebox, and we had to bring them to his unit, because they didn't have an address, and they got shipped right there from Fort Benning. You know what it's like to try to cram stuff into a shoebox? My feet are sized 6 1/2. Being the rebel I am, I would go to Wal-Mart and buy the cheapest boots I could find, throw them away and use the box, because really, shoes did come in them, right?

I've been averaging about three boxes a month right now. Of course, there's always at least 10 cans of his beloved Copenhagen. Then the dilemma hits me...what the hell else can I fill up this box with?

The second Adam gets on the plane to deploy, he starts a diet. (I'm not sure why, he knows I'm a chubby chaser.) This means I don't send him cookies, brownies, candy, etc., because it will just go into the community pile. He asks me to send "healthy" stuff. That's like asking Willy Wonka to shop for him.

One deployment, I sent him a few bags of dried fruit. That's healthy, right? Except I forgot his allergy to sulfa, and the fruit is dried in sulfa. He did let me know his medic really enjoyed it.

Another deployment, I went to the cheap toy aisle in Wal-Mart (you know, the one where everything is a dollar, and you know within 10 seconds of playing with it it's going to break?) and got a recorder (I call it a flute, that's what it basically is), silly putty, etc. He seemed to enjoy it, and it broke up the monotony of beef jerky and hunting magazines.

Now I've got a new angle, and unless you know us, you'll probably think we're crazy. (We are.) I had the usual array while packing up a box last night...Bass Masters magazine, hunting magazine, beef jerky, Copenhagen, etc. It was still looking pretty sparse, so I consulted Addison and said, "Go look in the pantry, and find something we'll never eat while Dad's gone." He picked out a can of kidney beans. Now that I think about it, they're my kidney beans, when I make my Paula Deen chili. Anyway, Addison got a Sharpie and wrote on the top, "We ain't never gonna eat these." (Yes, the improper grammar was my idea.)

The beans are now nestled among the other goodies, ready to be shipped out tomorrow. I wish I could be there when Adam opens the box, and pulls out a can of freakin' kidney beans. I have no doubt he'll first be like, "WTF?", and then he'll laugh his ass off.

I'm also willing to be no one else will be getting kidney beans in their care packages.

Because some people need to learn some manners...

2009-10-27T12:21:00.003-04:00

Here's the deal - I am the leader of the Family Readiness Group for my husband's company. It's a military thing.

Anyway, there are about 40+ wives in said company. For the most part, they are independent and self-sufficient. Some do not contact me at all. Some contact me almost every day for things that I cannot possibly do for them unless I have a magic wand and fairy dust. That's all fine and good. I put myself out there to help everyone, regardless of it being something simple or something earth-shattering and life-changing. (Which has happened, and it's something I never want to experience again, God willing.)

Last night I got PISSED. I got a text at 11:22 p.m. (yes, P.M.) letting me know that this wife was back in town. (When they leave the area for more than 24 hours, they have to let me know, and I pass the information on, just in case something happens to their husband.)

I was asleep by 10, which is very rare for me. I'm a night owl, usually going to sleep after 11 or 12, so waking up at 11:22 annoyed the living fuck out of me. How inconsiderate. If she was afraid she'd forget to let me know (and it's not required to let me know, unless they had an open-ended trip) she could have written it down to let me know in the morning. She could have emailed me the information. But no, it had to be a text.

I know I put myself out there and offer to help anyone with most anything, but let's have some consideration for others - more pointedly, me. Not a day goes by that I don't do something FRG-related, some days spending hours doing it. I'm not complaining, but you will be on my shit list the next time you wake me up.

Because I do get scared...

2009-10-26T13:47:00.003-04:00

Every morning at 9 I usually change the channel from the Today Show to the Golden Girls or the Game Show Network, depending on my mood (yes, I'm am ready to live in a retirement community).

This morning, though, I got in the shower first. When I got out, I saw breaking news that 14 Americans had died in helicopter crashes in two different parts of Afghanistan. Talk about my heart dropping to my feet...

Of course, the first thing I think is, please don't let it be Adam. Please don't let it be his company, his unit, his regiment. Then I feel guilty, and say a prayer for those who died.

Then I started to wonder "Would I have been notified already? Is the news ahead of notification? What unit was it?" I woke up ready to go shopping for Christmas decorations, and didn't know if I should leave the house.

I decided to stop be paranoid and just get out of the house, and I'm glad I did. It was a welcome diversion from the 24/7 reality of being a wife with a husband overseas. And I of course got some great stuff, because, I'm all about Christmas.

Tonight I will count my blessings.

Because I'm a crazy Christmas woman...

2009-10-21T10:30:00.003-04:00

I love Christmas, plain and simple. There's something so magical about that time of the year. I love that families spend time together, and, if we're lucky enough to have Adam home that year, it's even more special. I love the fact that life slows down.

I've been a bit OCD this year. It's going to be the best Christmas ever, and I'm already so excited I began my shopping early. I have one more thing to buy for my mom, then I'm done with shopping, except, you know, that whole Santa thing. I really wish he was real, because it would save me an assload of money, especially on a child who already has everything (except an XBox, PS3, etc., but I don't find that they are necessities when you already have every other gaming system). This year the big present is a laptop...my 10-year-old actually chats with girls on Facebook. I'm sort of leery about this, and tell him to not be a stalker and don't be mean, but OF COURSE he already knows this, because 10-year-old boys know everything. Or so he tells me.

It's such a relief to have the shopping out of the way, so I can focus on decorations. This is our first Christmas in our house, in a REAL house, not on-post housing...ahhhhh. It's still so strange to me to realize we own a house - I feel like an adult. I really appreciate it too. Thirteen years of living in military housing will do that to a girl.

I might be rushing the season, but I am so looking forward to it that it's not even funny. I won't be putting the tree up anytime soon (I need to buy a new fake one, we chucked our old one before moving last year, because the expensive pre-lit one had a whole section of bulbs burnt out.) I have no doubt I'll have it up before Thanksgiving, but not too soon, only because Thanksgiving is late again this year.

Tis the season yo.

Because it's time for another one ...

2009-10-13T13:17:00.003-04:00

If I was a celebrity, I could write a book and make an assload of money. But I'm not, I'm just a regular person who has struggled with depression my whole life, so I'll talk about it here instead.

I've written about this before, but I think sometimes it deems repeating. I have depression. Dysthymia, to be exact. Dysthymia is an ongoing, low-grade depression. Stress can exacerbate major depression. I found this out when Adam did a paper on dysthymia for a class. (It was nice to see him try to learn more about what affected me, and how to deal with it.) I found it a tad bit hilarious that I married a man in the military without ever knowing I had dysthymia. Stress? Yeah, what military wife doesn't deal with stress?

I'm glad that depression is no longer a social stigma. It can really, really hinder me, and if people know this about me, and understand it, it's that much more helpful to me. I can't understand people who don't think medication is necessary. (I will point out that I am not on any sort of medication, but I feel strongly about this.) If your friend told you she had cancer, would you tell her not to treat it? Depression is an illness, and if it can be helped with medication, why not?

If you've never experienced depression, count your fucking blessings. If you know someone who does, try to understand. It's not something we can just "snap out of" or forget about. It affects us every minute of every day. I would love to be depression-free for the rest of my life. But that's not possible. Dysthymia will affect me for the rest of my life.

I've learned the warning signs of when I'm falling into a major depression. I've had two major depressive episodes in my life. I hit rock bottom, literally. I look back now and am glad I'm alive. I don't even remember much of those episodes, that's how unlike myself I was at that time. I thank God for those around me who helped and understood, and saved me before it was too late.

Depression is real. (Oh damn I sound like the Cymbalta commercials that actually make me more depressed.) Life is tough, no doubt, and depression can make it seem that much tougher. If you have a loved one with depression, reach out to them. Sometimes we need more help than we let on, or even know that we do.

Because I'm a tad bitter and shouldn't be...

2009-10-12T12:46:00.002-04:00

I've been sick a whole week. Addison was sick all last week, with the flu, and missed every day of school. No biggie, it sucks being sick, especially when there's no hubby around to take care of us, or family whatsoever.

I got angry the other day. I'm not sure if I was justified in feeling the way I do, but sometimes I tend to fly off the handle. It happens.

With the advent of Facebook, e-mail, even texting, it was old news that Addison and I were sick. I got an e-mail from a wife, letting me know another wife was sick, and maybe I should check up on her. That's when I lost it. Who called me? Who asked, at any point, if we needed anything?

Yes, I'm stubborn and all, and don't ask for help. Maybe it's my own fault for projecting that I am Super Woman and can do it all. Well, I can't. Even if I refused help, a simple, "Hey, I know you're both sick, Adam's gone and you have no family in the area. Is there anything you need or want that I can help you with?" would have meant the world to me.

Maybe it's time for me to pull back some, to let people take care of themselves, since they don't seem to worry about anyone else besides themselves anyway. Maybe it's time for me to focus on myself and my son, instead of worrying about everyone else. Hell, maybe I need a whole attitude adjustment.

Whatever it may be, it needs to change.

Because it's my son ...

2009-10-02T11:55:00.003-04:00

I know, I know, it's just my boy kicking for the two points after the touchdown, but I've seen grown adults who can't kick like this. So, being the incredibly proud mom I am, I'm subjecting you to it.

If you listen closely, you'll hear me saying, "Come on boy..." Then I giggle after he kicks it into the woodline, because I was so excited for him, and my nervousness vanished.

Enjoy!!

Because I'm repeating my favorite post ...

2009-10-01T13:10:00.002-04:00

I wrote this post a year and a half ago. For some reason I felt like sharing it again, if only to prove that I am still soft in the head:

Yes, it's official, I have lost my mind. The song, Too Much Time on My Hands by Styx (who doesn't love Come Sail Away, The Best of Times and Babe?) is running on a constant loop in my head.

To prove the point of mind-loss, here are my top 10 ideas on what my Silky Terrier, Baby, does when she squirrels up under our bed at various times during the day. (Sometimes if my big toe brushes up too close to the dust ruffle, she will emit a low growl, making me jump on the bed so I don't come to be known as "Nine-Toed Nash.")

1. I told Adam the other night while we were watching TV in bed and heard Baby rustling under the bed that she was running an underground meth lab. Hey, Baby, keep me out of it, but make sure you share the profits, bitch.

2. Has an internal debate with herself on whether she really is a dog or a cat. I can hear her now: "That short lady and the tall guy call me kitty all the time and laugh. Is it true? I smell like a dog and I eat dog food, yet when a cat food commercial comes on, they ask me, 'Baby, you want me to buy you that'"?

3. Is hiding out from that thing that is always following her around. (her tail)

4. Has an encyclopedia collection she is devouring voraciously in hopes of going on Jeopardy!.

5. Protecting her health since I haven't "gone green" with my household cleaners. I was a sucker and bought the Clorox "green" bathroom cleaner. Nope, doesn't work as well as regular Clorox Clean-Up. It'll burn the hairs out of your nostrils but you can bet your bottom there are no germs on my countertops.

6. She could possibly have a Playstation under there and is living a life of crime and destitution while playing Grand Theft Auto 4.

7. Wondering how she can get out of the fence and get knocked up so she too can be classy and go on Maury to find out who her baby daddy be, saying she is "2,000 percent sure he's the daddy because she's never been with anyone else".

8. Practicing her "looks" so Tyra doesn't tell her she looks "dead in the eyes" when trying out for America's Next Top Model.

9. Plotting my death, a la Stewie, so she can take my place as Adam's wife.

10. Budgeting so she can figure out if she has enough dough to run for president as the "crunk candidate."

Because I might've been a bit harsh ...

2009-09-28T14:10:00.003-04:00

I've written a post before about what you should and should never say to a military spouse or family member. One that bothers me to no end is when someone asks how long Adam is going to be gone, and their response is "Oh, that's not bad."

I decided to take matters into my own hands when someone says this to me, if only to educate them so they don't say it the absolute wrong person next time. Well, I got to use it last week.

I was showing a dad at football practice my Kindle, kindly explaining what it was and how much I loved it, yada yada yada. He's the dad of one of Addison's friends, so I was being nice. My friends always ask how Adam's doing, and he did too, and then said THOSE words, "How long is he gone for?"

I gave him a general timeframe (OPSEC, yo, I'm down with it) and he said the words...and I let loose. I wasn't rude, but here's a rundown of how it went (and this was after I restrained myself from launching myself at him, because I really wanted to wrap my hands around his neck and shake him like I was a British nanny):

Him: "Oh, that's not bad."
Me: "It is to me." At this point, he looked like the words "oh shit" shot through his brain.
Me: "He works all the time over there. His unit is rarely idle in that time period. They are constantly busy, always putting their lives on the line. He's not sitting over there counting bullets."

He smartly shut his mouth after that.

Here's what bothers me the most, though. No one would have the balls to say this to a child going through the same thing. If an adult ever said that to Addison, I would have no problem kicking their ass. Addison is a smart kid, but he doesn't understand why his father has to miss all his football games, school stuff, holidays, etc.

So why do people deem it okay to say to a wife, husband, brother, mother, etc?

I don't regret making him feel uncomfortable. Maybe he didn't deserve it, maybe he is now better educated because of my little verbal diarrhea tirade.

Here's a suggestion to anyone who may speak to anyone dealing with deployment - ask them how they are doing. Tell them you will keep their loved one in your thoughts and prayers (if you're a praying sort). Wish them a safe return for their loved one.

Because it's just a number, yo...

2009-09-24T09:53:00.002-04:00

I turned 35 years old in May. I'm still trying to grasp that I'm 35 years old. I'm really not sure how a 35-year-old is supposed to act, or look like, etc.

Some people identify with their age. I've never done that - I still feel like a 17-year-old, though with a husband and 10-year-old son, a house, dog, bills, and more. I guess you'd say "responsibility" but I see it as life.

So what's a mom in her mid-30's supposed to look like? I don't know. Am I supposed to be buying mom jeans from Kmart and rocking an ass in the front and the back? (You know what I mean...when someone's gut is so big it looks like their ass goes all the way around.) I loathe exercise, but I realize the older I get, the more my former fantabulous metabolism is slowing down. Good thing I'm a comfort drinker, not eater.

What kind of music is a mom supposed to listen to? Barry Manilow? Neil Diamond? I'm a Linkin Park kind of girl. I love JT, Rihanna, Disturbed, Jimmy Buffett, and many more. My musical interests are diverse, without a doubt. It usually depends on what sort of mood I'm in. These days I'm loving Adele. It's mellow, but her voice is beautiful. That just sounded so mom.

I go through a lot of identity crises. Some days it's "what's a girl supposed to act like" and others it's "what's a Yankee living in the South supposed to act like." Right now I'm trying to figure out how to act my age. And you know what? There's no rule saying I have to wear mom jeans, or make Addison eat organic food. I'll continue to be me, good and bad, and keep being the Erin that is comfortable in her own skin. The one thing I've learned as I have accumulated the years is that I don't care what people think about me.

That's the most comfort I've felt about myself in years.

Because I'm reviewing ...

2009-09-23T10:43:00.003-04:00

I'm reviewing the last few weeks of my life, those weeks since Adam's left. All I can say is, wow.

I've changed, and changed immensely. I feel a sudden onset of maturity. I'm not saying I'm not any fun anymore, and that I won't moon the nearest person at the first chance (After drinking, of course. Okay, maybe not).

What I mean is that for the first time in my life, I feel capable. That if I can do this, I can do anything. This is my seventh time going through a deployment, and I finally feel like it's going to be okay. I've never been a nervous-wreck sort of person throughout any of them. I take that back - the first one was a nightmare. Not knowing where in the world your husband is, having no communication with him and not knowing when he was coming back sucked. At least I know where he is, although not being able to promise Addison he will come home bothers me. We don't broach that subject though, we focus on the positive.

Yes, there is a positive. The positive is the intense pride we have at being a military family. It's like having the National Anthem playing in a loop, constantly in your head and in your heart. Sounds corny, but it's true!

So yes, I'll make it through this one too. And more in the next six years before Adam retires (who knows, he might even stay in longer after 20 years). He absolutely loves his job. I love that he has a job and love that he loves it. It's a big ol' lovefest in the Nash family!

Because I'm in a rut...

2009-09-21T20:28:00.002-04:00

So I've hit a major rut in my life. I know it's depression, and loneliness since Adam's been gone over 5 weeks. This is my first deployment when I didn't work. I can tell a tremendous difference - I was actually busy and it made time go by faster. These have been the longest weeks of my life.

I've been so focused as our Family Readiness Group leader on everyone else that I've forgotten to take care of me. I just don't seem to have the energy or wont to take care of myself or the house. The rest of my energy is taking care of Addison. I would never be a parent who lets their child run wild or not feed them. He's my number one priority in life, always.

I'm missing the old Erin, the one who was fun. The one who would go anywhere, anytime, even though I'm a homebody. I'm a total hermit now. Between the depression and the feeling I need to be here, I don't leave the house that often. Sure, I go grocery shopping and to Wal-Mart and such, but there's no joy in shopping right now for me. I had planned on getting a good jump on Christmas shopping because I really enjoy getting it all done early, but I've lost the joy in most everything.

I'm not one for medication. I've done and tried a lot of medications, and now I just feel that this is something I can control on my own. I suppose admitting it here, on the blog, is my first step in taking control of it and getting on with life and finding the enjoyment in it.

Because I'm so stubborn...

2009-09-11T14:35:00.002-04:00

If you've ever had government-run healthcare, you can feel my pain. It sucks. Especially military healthcare. It's so bad that I only go if I absolutely have to (yearly girl stuff, and refills for my inhaler). Other than that, I usually just suffer or self-treat. I know, stupid, but unless you are in the same boat, you have no idea!

Last week my ear got really itchy inside. The next day it felt kind of full, and I could feel that it was swollen inside. I figured it would go away on it's own. I figured wrong.

Because, of course, I had to try to self-treat. I thought it may be some sort of sinus/throat infection. Then I figured it might be a big ol' zit, a cyst or something. Now I just have no clue, except it's putting a lot of pressure on everything around it, and it's uncomfortable. It's not painful, but of course I've been poking around in there, because I'd be soooo embarrassed if I go to be seen and have a big zit in there. For cripes sake, I'm 35 years old. I guess ears have no age though.

So now I'm going to stop being so stubborn. I'm going to wait until after duty hours (so I don't have to call my clinic, which will invariably steer me towards the ER, which I will NOT go to) and go to the walk-in medical clinic. Civilians rock. I'm so afraid they're going to be able to tell I've been sticking all kinds of Q-tips in there, poking around, probably touching my brain. Oh well, I'll bite the bullet.

I can't wait to tell Addison we'll be spending Friday night at Urgent One. What a glamorous life I lead!

Because I'll never be THAT wife...

2009-09-02T16:48:00.002-04:00

There's been so much going on the last five days it's been crazy. I am not going to go into right now, but needless to say, I've learned a lot about myself.

First and foremost, I've learned I am a strong person. People have told me that through the years of being a military wife, but I always figured if I didn't love Adam, I wouldn't do it. It's a tough life, no doubt, but there's plenty more pros then cons, and I wouldn't trade it for the world.

I've learned I might not be quite the follower I always thought I was. I'm not a born leader, but have been inspired by Adam and others I admire in that regard.

A few months ago, because of the rank Adam had achieved, I was put in the position of being a leader. I was not too sure of myself as a leader, but I felt that since I was in that position to help others, there was no reason I shouldn't.

I could tell at our first meeting the other wives were hesitant of me. They had to feel me out, see what sort of person I was. Here's the thing...I'm me, swearing, blunt, say-what-I-think Erin. Sometimes I come off as rough and gruff. I'm fine with people not liking me also, because I certainly don't like everyone I meet.

Because of Adam's job title, I get a title. But I don't want that title. I don't want to be (insert rank here)'s wife. I'm Erin. Not to take away anything from Adam and how proud I am of him and how great he is at what he does, but because there shouldn't be rank when it's a wives meeting. I respect all of the men's ranks, but believe when it's a room full of women, there's no rank, unless, of course, they are in the military.

I've met plenty of wives throughout the years who would refer to themselves as "the colonel's wife" and stuff like that. What, you don't have your own identity?

I could go on and on about this, but I won't. Like I said, there's been a lot going on. I'm fine, Adam's fine, Addison's fine...no need to worry.

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

2009-08-28T19:04:00.002-04:00

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

2009-08-19T22:57:00.002-04:00

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...

2009-08-04T13:10:00.002-04:00

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.

Because otherwise I'd have to kill you...

2009-07-31T14:04:00.002-04:00

This is probably the post that I should have posted the day I started this blog. Read on.

I'm an Army wife. My husband is in the Army, not me. Which means I don't have rank-he does. I refuse to be one of the wives who thinks her shit doesn't stink just because of her husband's rank. I hope I have remained grounded the last 13 years.

Anyway, what I really want to say is this...

I really, really wish I could tell you things. Things about Adam and his work and such. I know you are curious because you are just as proud of him as I am, but honestly, I can't say stuff I wish I could. For the most part, this is because I really don't know.

It's hard for not to share this stuff, such as deployment and redeployment dates. That stuff is usually so up in the air I would just be wasting my breath if I told you anyway. It's hard to keep it all in, when I know sharing with family and friends would make me feel better. It's always nice to commiserate. In this case, I can't. That sucks.

I do not know anything about what Adam has done overseas. This is for my own sanity. Knowing he is not done deploying for several years makes me stick my head in the sand. If I knew what he actually did, I would be a nervous wreck for the entire deployment. I always say I prefer to see him sitting on a bunk somewhere, staring longingly at my picture. That's how I see him overseas, and that's how I get through it mentally.

Not to say I'm not curious. I am a curious person by nature. I've told Adam the day he retires, we're going to get a couple cases of beer, and he's going to tell me everything he ever did overseas, every detail, until he's done. Whether this takes one hour or one week I don't care. I know he's got great stories and I look forward to hearing them someday.

Know that I'm not trying to be cagey when I seem to skirt around your questions. It's just that if by the small slip of my tongue caused harm to anyone or anything, I could never forgive myself. My top priority (besides the Boy, of course) is making sure Adam and his entire unit are safe. I know that's understandable.

Because it's Paula Deen, y'all...

2009-07-21T18:42:00.002-04:00

It's no secret I have a mad girl crush on Paula Deen. I started watching her on the Food Network and realized she cooked real food, food I can make. Real meals, ones with recipes that I know all the ingredients too, and know I can actually find them at the Food Lion.

So of course moving to Savannah was like a dream come true. Paula lives here.

Well, today was one of the best days ever. I finally ate at The Lady and Sons, Paula's restaurant in Savannah.

As a "local" I was able to call in for priority seating, which is what you have to do if you have a party of less than 10, since you can't get a reservation. Regular people have to go wait in line and put their name in for priority seating, but not me, I can call that in, bitches.

All I have to say about the food is WOW. It wasn't just a party in my mouth, it was an orgy. Mind you, this is coming from the girl who only eats to keep my blood sugar above a non-bitch level. Eating is a nuisance to me. But oh lordy, this was some gooood food.

We all left with fuller than full bellies. We all came home and had to take a nap. And now, almost 7 hours later, I'm still not hungry.

Thank you, Paula, for a wonderful meal. I'll be sure to be back as soon as possible!

Because I really, really want to go back...

2009-07-20T11:03:00.002-04:00

One week ago today, the Nash family was in the truck, on our way to Disney World. We picked up my brother-in-law from his hotel and proceeded to have five fun-filled days, riding awesome rollercoasters and doing the whole Disney experience.

I want to go back.

While we were relaxing in our hotel room at the awesome Caribbean Beach Resort (it would have been more awesome without me trying to squeeze by the big-ass ugly ducks and asking them kindly to please don't bite me), I ruminated out loud, "Could you possibly live at Disney World? You know, like how some people live in hotels? If you're rich, can you just live at a Disney hotel for like a year?"

No one had a good answer for this. So for now I'm going to focus on winning the lottery so I can live at WDW. A girl can dream, right?

Because you truly suck, DirecTV

2009-07-08T17:27:00.003-04:00

Dear DirecTV,
I have a HD receiver that was recalled last fall. Funny, you never let me know about it, and I never would have known but I Googled my model number and bingo! Recall. Most of the other people got a phone call or a letter. Not me. Gee thanks. Strike one.

Strike two-the reason I say this is because my receiver, which I've had for two years, is on it's last legs. I have to reset it a few times a day, interrupting my precious television watching. The picture freezes, or when I change the channel, no picture and no sound show up. I'm just glad I found out about the recall, otherwise I'm sure you'd try to charge me for a new one, just like you tried to charge me on the FIRST bill for three free months of premium channels.

And now, the kicker. I've been trying to call since yesterday. Apparently they have those cube-sized Macs like Jerry Seinfeld, because they've been updating since yesterday. They cannot access customers' accounts. Whatch you talkin' 'bout Willis? Seriously? How can a company as big as DirecTV have such crappy customer service?

I waited to call them, because every experience I've ever had sucks more than my vacuum. They are truly stupid. Once in awhile, the gods smile down on me and I get a coherent person, with a personality, who is more than willing to help me. For the most part, I get a representative who apparently is working there to pay off the lobotomy they just got the previous day.

If I wasn't such a rabid, tattoo-sporting member of Red Sox Nation, this craptastic satellite service would be gone faster than you can say boo. But it's my only way to watch the Sox, every day and as often as possible (which is quite a lot).

I'll drive on. And I will try my hardest not to be the rudest, meanest bitch if I so happen to get Lobotomy Larry the next time I call. Honestly.

Because I'm 17 again...

2009-07-07T19:30:00.002-04:00

Think back to when you were 17. You were on top of the world, invincible as hell and couldn't wait to grow up and be a real adult.

How many of us would love to feel like that 17 year old again, because we now know what it's like to be a real grown up?

I've been married to an amazing man for almost 13 years. I've totally jipped him out of a lot of me. Yet he's stuck around.

I've got issues, you've got issues, we've all got issues. I have abandonment issues. But when I was 17, I gave myself, all of myself, to someone else, and I ended up crushed and broken at the age of 19, not the same person I was before.

Since then, it's been hard for me to give me, all of me, to anyone else.

I had much time to think with all the driving I did in the past few weeks. What the hell am I doing? I'm screwing up the most perfect relationship with the most perfect man because I couldn't get past something that happened so long ago.

But that's changed. I'm proud to announce the new me, the improved me, the one that will give all of her, heart and soul and body, to her husband. I will no longer hide, afraid of anything.

Hear me roar.

Because I need to vent...

2009-07-01T13:50:00.002-04:00

I'm getting up on my soapbox, so if a little anger bothers you, go ahead and go, my feelings will not be hurt.

Here's the deal-we lived on Fort Benning for almost 13 years, surrounded by other military folks. When we moved to Savannah in January, it was weird living among civilians. Nice, but weird.

I realize now that I was sheltered at Fort Benning. I wasn't aware of what happens in the real world. People get divorced, do drugs, work hard and play hard. Not so different from the military community, but where I had lived there wasn't a lot of that.

This is where I need to vent. Most of our friends are civilians. Fine, I don't base my friends on what their job is. Most of them don't know a lick about military life. Okay, so it's my job to educate them.

I explained about Adam's deployments, the length and frequency of them. I've heard a few times, "Oh, that's not too bad. At least it's not 15 months."

I understand that 15 months must suck. But that's not how Adam's unit works. We're lucky enough that it's just a few months at a time, but it's also once a year that these deployments happen.

I want to scream. I want to ask them, "How about you put yourself in my shoes, when you wake up worrying and go to bed worrying for every day of that deployment about your husband? Why don't you parent your child alone, with no family around to help. Then come back and tell me, oh, that's not bad."

I'm not feeling sorry for myself. It's just that if you haven't been through it, you don't know, and telling me that it's not that bad insults me. Have you ever had to go buy a new washing machine on Christmas Eve by yourself, and get your friend to help you bring it in the house and set it up yourself? Then shut it. Have you had to put on a brave face for your 5-year-old son on Christmas morning, when he's opening his presents and your husband is listening through the phone, and it's killing you he's not there?

I know parents who are divorced go through a lot of same things. I have friends who are divorced. But their husband/wife is around to take care of the kids when they can't, or they have family who can relieve them of their parental duties now and then. I don't have that luxury.

My mom has taught me to never minimize someone else's problems or their pain. What might seem silly to you might be huge to me. I might think you're a loon because you lost your favorite pair of undies, but if they mean something to you, then shame on me for thinking that way.

The best advice I can give is to listen, just listen to a military spouse when they talk. You might hear through our bravado our pain, our pride, and our fear. Don't attempt to minimize our feelings. They are very real.

Because I've seen parts of Georgia I didn't need to...

2009-06-29T17:48:00.002-04:00

Wow, it's been two weeks since I updated the blog. That would coincide right around when Adam left to California for training. That said, it means I was left to drive Addison all around Georgia for baseball.

This is kind of confusing...Addison played recreation baseball for the town of Pooler. That season ended a few weeks ago. He was one of 12 boys in his age group chosen to be an All-Star for the town. That entailed practices several times a week. He also plays for a traveling tournament team. I know. Basically, it ends up being a shit ton of baseball.

Three weeks ago we had a tournament for the All-Stars in Lyons, Ga. Two days of traveling back and forth. Two weeks ago we were down in Brunswick, Ga., back and forth for two days. Last week we were in Blackshear, Ga., for three days, back and forth.

For a girl who bought her '04 Saturn brand new five years ago and had less than 15,000 miles on it, this was a lot of traveling. I put more than 1,300 miles on my car in those weeks. And, Adam was gone.

But I'm not going to complain. I'm thrilled Addison is good at baseball. I enjoyed our time together through all those hours. Sometimes his friends came with us, and I know he enjoyed that too.

I really could have done without the 100+ degree weather we endured for hours on end. But hey, it's Georgia, right?

Because it's officially summer...

2009-06-15T11:58:00.003-04:00

Addison's officially out of school as of last Friday. It's nice to have someone around during the day with me. I'm sure we'll get on each other's nerves at some point, but for now we're totally chillin'.

Although there aren't any kids in the neighborhood that Addison will deem cool enough to play with, he is still involved in baseball, so we have practice almost every weeknight and tournaments on the weekend so he's able to see his friends. We hang out with the other cool baseball parents so that's nice too.

The difference between this summer vacation and others is vast. Fort Benning/Columbus is a big vacuous nowhere. There's not much to do there. But the Savannah area? There's tons of stuff for us to do, and I look forward to spending the summer with the boy, learning more and more about this area I love so much and never want to leave.

Bring on the summer fun!

Because in my past life I might have lived south of the equator...

2009-06-10T12:06:00.002-04:00

I like hot weather. There's something sultry about it. It warms my bones, it warms my soul.

Yes I'm the same girl that lived in New England for 22 years. I enjoyed watching the snow fall, but didn't last long playing in it. I hated being cold and wet.

It's true the first year I lived in Georgia I actually started crying because it was still hovering near the 90-degree mark in late September. My body wasn't used to it. It was supposed to be cool and crisp and the leaves were supposed to change to beautiful colors, not dry up and fall to the ground.

Now, 13 years later, I enjoy the hot, sticky weather. I suppose my blood has thinned, and my psyche has gotten used to it. Disney World in July? We didn't think twice about planning our vacation there. When we invited my brother-in-law to be our "manny" he said something about the heat there in Florida. He's a northerner.

My ultimate dream is to be a beach bum in Key West, with a boat drink in one hand, my Kindle in the other, singing along to Jimmy Buffett tunes. A girl can dream, can't she?