Thanksgiving

This year, our Thanksgiving was a very special occasion. About a week prior to the big day, Husband and I were talking and we realized this would be the first Thanksgiving we’ve spent together in two years. It just hadn’t dawned on us for some reason. The last Thanksgiving we were together was in 2005.

In September of 2006, he deployed to Iraq for his second year-long tour. We looked forward to being able to spend Thanksgiving together the next year, since he should have returned in late August or early September of 2007. Unfortunately, all Army deployments were extended from twelve to fifteen months right as husband neared the half-way point of the deployment. And with that, he spent two Thanksgivings in Iraq. Thankfully, he deployed in September, not October. If he’d deployed in October, he would have missed two Christmases too. Although I really enjoy Thanksgiving, Christmas was always the hardest holiday to get through when he was deployed.

The extension was an unexpected emotional blow, but I know it would have been so much worse had we also missed spending the Christmas holiday with him two years in a row. My heart broke for those families who weren’t as fortunate. Twelve months apart is hard, but for some reason, adding on those three extra months made it so much harder. So, this Thanksgiving, we all were most thankful for being able to spend the day together.

Daughter spent the morning helping me in the kitchen. We had such a good time talking and cooking together. She’s eleven, but looks like she’s a teenager. She’s almost as tall as me, can wear my shoes and clothes and she’s so mature. Sometimes I forget that she’s only eleven. Husband and son enjoyed some football and helped us get the table ready. After we ate, the men-folk did most of the cleanup saying it was the least they could do since daughter and I did all of the cooking.

After our bellies were full and the kitchen was cleaned up, daughter and I went and rented some movies. We spent the rest of the afternoon and evening watching Christmas movies and enjoying hot chocolate and the pie daughter made.

It was a great Thanksgiving and we’re looking forward to spending many more together now that he’s retired. I hope everyone else had a wonderful Thanksgiving too!

Bull SHIT….

Check out this article:  In icy Alaska, U.S. Army can be sued over fall

Here’s the great quote of the piece:

An injured woman who slipped in an Alaskan parking lot can sue the federal government for failing to remove snow and ice, a U.S. Court of Appeals ruled on Monday.

Carol Bolt has been permanently disabled since April 1999, when she broke her ankle outside her U.S. Army apartment in Fort Wainwright, Alaska, where winter temperatures fall to as low as -65 F degrees (-54 C).

[RANT-ON]
HERE is the kicker for those of us who have LIVED in Alaska’s interior…IF SHE LIVED ON BASE IT WAS HER RESPONSIBILITY TO KEEP HER SIDEWALKS AND DRIVE CLEAR! So if she slipped it was HER FAULT for not clearing the snow!!

You know how many freaking hours I have shoveled that fucking white shit? FOUR LONG YEARS of shoveling it. Had a brand new baby and a toddler the last two years we lived on base – and left the front door open where I could see them in the little mud room while I tried to keep the sidewalk and drive clear when we’d get five feet of snow in an evening. Yeah FUN – all the while husband was gone being a soldier and I not only raised two babies, I shoveled snow and worked 50 hours a week mostly ALONE. And this lazy ass doesn’t clear her walk and now it’s the government’s job to clear the sidewalks and she gets a freaking payday too?

I’m glad my husband is retiring – the shit that is taking over and the freaking suits allowing them to make me sick.

[/RANT-OFF]…..

One Year – Twelve Months….

or three hundred sixty five days. Any way you cut it, it still sucks.

I couldn’t figure out yesterday why I was so down in the dumps. It finally dawned on me. September 20th, 2006 husband left for Iraq for his second tour. I guess I’m glad, looking back, that I didn’t know at the time that it’d be fifteen months instead of “just” twelve. It would have just made the good-bye even worse…

So much has happened in the last year. And, here we are facing another three months. It’s better than another twelve, but it still sucks just the same.

And I reserve the right to continue to bitch and whine for 90 more days ha!

Don’t Yell at the Thugs!!

Yep, I know better. But, what are ya gonna do? I’m a southerner…life sucks right now and I cannot STAND to see someone mistreating an animal.

Now, these two particular thugs are propably 12-14. They cussed my next door neighbors at some point this summer. They both said nothing (he’s a retired cop and gave the kid the look of death heh heh), but my other neighbors had a run in with them too. Their little girl was walking their dog and the thug wanna-bees told her they’d kill her dog. When she ran in to tell her Mother, she got in their car until she found them and made the two apologize.

So, I’m out in the backyard with my two big dogs (and the new puppy, don’t ask) when these two little fuckers walk by. The house behind us on the opposite corner has a huge privacy fence that houses their dog. These two are aggravating the piss out of the dog, poking sticks through the cracks at him – just being up to NO GOOD. The dog is wanting to eat their faces off…

I keep thinking they’ll move on, but NO…dumb and dumber just keep at it. So, what do I do? Yep, I yell down the block loud enough for it to make both the little shits jump.

“Hey! You need to leave that dog alone!!”

They look back, see me and start walking the other direction. Once the pissed off simmered, I thought, “that probably wasn’t wise. They’ll be back at midnight keying my cars…”

I talk to my neighbor and he says to go to the police department and they’ll increase patrols here in our neighborhood. So, since daughter forgot her homework, we run by her school and stop at the police department on the way back. Super nice officer talked with me. I explain the small problem we’re having with these two and ask if they can step up patrols. He said it won’t be a problem, but next time, to give them a call and maybe they can ID them and have a talk with ‘em too. He said that the trailer park a couple blocks away have lots of single parents and unfortunately, their children are often the ones out late at night causing problems.

I just hated to call the police about it at the time…but having two thugs come back to seek revenge which my retired policeman next door said was probably likely, I thought I’d at least go down and let them know several of us on this street have had problems with the little gang-banger wanna-bees….

If I could just learn to keep my damn mouth shut heh heh…just can’t take a dog or a child being mistreated though . Hopefully these two are not brave enough to try their hand at breaking in….between the two dogs and the redneck here, just could see a bad situation turning worse .

Advertise He’s Gone or Not….

that is the question (and other ramblings of course).

I took daughter and son to the park last week and met one of daughter’s friends and her mother. Her husband will deploy this fall and in the course of letting them play, we talked quite a bit.

She mentioned that she’s not putting up a blue star banner while he’s gone so as to not advertise that she has a deployed husband. I told her my banner’s been up since the last time he deployed and will stay up until he retires. My neighbor has one – for his son deployed in the Navy and so do a lot of folks in town.

On the back of my car I have a magnet that says “Half of my heart is in Iraq.” It’d been packed up in a box in the basement with other memories from the last deployment and when he deployed again, I dug through the box and put it back on my car. I told her that I probably shouldn’t advertise, but it’s a small town and everyone already knows. That I’m just sure to put the bee in everyone’s bonnet that I’m a hillbilly from Alabama, I’ve been shooting guns since I was old enough to ride a bike, I’m a member of the NRA and I’m a damn good shot. Not sure if it scared her LMAO or she now thinks I’m a nut, but hey – I refuse to allow anyone to think I’d be an easy target.

I’m proudly armed and as God is my witness, as my two big dogs try to eat your ass off (a rottweiler and my “police dog” aka German Shepherd who sticks by my side religiously) I’ll be taking aim. If you get in, you’re going out toes up. I’ll be damned if I’m going to become a victim in my own home…the ONE place we should be safest. No matter where I am in this house, there’s a firearm within reach and I make NO apologies for that. The world is just a sad, sick place these days and taking chances is not something I do.

Would I suggest that all military spouses advertise they are alone? Of course not. If we were still in Virginia or even North Pole Alaska living out in the woods, I probably would do things differently. Our small town is pretty decent – or was. I’m starting to see a bit of “rough around the edges” folks in our neighborhood and downtown. But, I have a retired policeman living next door and his German Shepherd IS a retired police dog. A local policeman lives a few houses down, a policeman for another small town not far from here lives at the end of the street and a state trooper lives two doors down from him. I have great neighbors who keep an eye on everything and until yesterday I was pretty secure in my feeling safe.

My across the street neighbor is moving however. And she came over to talk yesterday while my babies were outside riding their bikes. We were out from about 4pm until 5:30 – just sitting on my front steps watching our children play and yacking it up. We’d just became pretty good friends right before school got out, so I’m truly sad to see them leave. Her husband is a reserve policeman for a neighboring town too – so that made three policeman and one retired policeman within a block lol. Just super people and it’s just my luck to finally get a great friend about my age in my town – only to have them move. And, just to clarify, they aren’t military and never have been.

At any rate, while we sat outside, these two rough looking characters come schlepping down the sidewalk. They avoid eye contact – which tells me they’re up to no good. One looked like an eighties rocker wannabe reject – the other just a dirty bum. About half an hour later, rocker reject comes back down the block without his buddy, once again avoiding all eye contact. Not twenty minutes later, here comes another guy on a bike…again, we live in a neighborhood with doctors, retired teachers, cops – these people CLEARLY do not live on our street or in our neighborhood.

And what is the ONE thing every fucking bum IS making eye contact with? Yeppers, my mid-life crisis car sitting out front with the big ol’ advertisement on the back of it that I’m living in this old house all by my lonesome. So, I’m guessing after eleven months everyone in town knows and there’s really no point in removing it. But with these characters walking around the neighborhood here lately, I’m starting to lean toward the NOT advertising side of the fence.

I talked to my next door neighbor who is a retired policeman about these two characters and he’s telling me about another regular that he sees snooping around at least once a week when folks are usually at work. He said he makes it a point to come out on the porch and stare at him heh heh. And I’ll be damned if while we’re talking, that fucker doesn’t come slithering by too….

Am I paranoid? Yep, usually am. It’s just my nature I guess…I was bad when I was in my twenties, but have progressively gotten worse after becoming a Mom. I think the fact that I’m not physically able to defend myself like I could have done five years ago also worries me. Where I used to could bench press about 100 pounds, squat 200 to 250 pounds, and worked out six days a week and now a good day is being able to make it through Wal-Mart… Well, it’s a huge adjustment and I’m sure somewhere inside (now that I’m writing and thinking about it), the fact I know I’m not able to fight off someone if needed, most likely impacts my feelings of security too. Probably another reason why I’ve purchased one firearm since husband left and have plans to buy another gun in the next few weeks heh heh.

Well, this got off topic a bit, but the question remains…advertise or not? It’s a personal choice and there’s no right answer per se. However, for most spouses who may be like me and live far from any family, I’d say not. It’s better to be safe, than sorry.

Regardless, watch your surroundings, vary your routine, have a plan of action for everything from a house fire to a home invasion.

Don’t keep the same lights on (or off) when you go to bed or leave your house. Keep outsiders guessing on whether you are in bed asleep or a night owl awake and watching TV. It’s often too easy to pick up on people’s regular habits, so make sure your own routine isn’t clear to outsiders. And as always, above all, whether at home or while you’re out and about, watch your surroundings and listen to your inner voice….we have that “inner voice” for a reason, so pay attention .

Finding My Way Back…

A week and one day…that’s how long it’s been since husband got on a plane headed back to the litter box full of turds on the other side of the world.

I keep trying to remind myself that it’s only been a week – but at the same time, my rational voice keeps yelling at me to get over it, he was only home two weeks. How settled could you have truly gotten in two freaking weeks? Stop the pity party and get on with it.

The Army makes a big deal about soldiers coming home – and how they need to take things slowly, how things may be different or take time to feel “normal.” Husband and I never have had that problem though. Each time he comes home, we’re both amazed at how it feels as though he was never gone.

The first time he deployed to the middle east, he wasn’t gone a year. So, when he came back and things were immediately back to normal, we didn’t think much of it. When he went a second time in 2003 to the middle east and was gone an entire year in Ramadi, Iraq, I worried that we might have a hard time adjusting when he came home. The year he spent in Ramadi was hard on both of us – he lost friends and co-workers and the stress on the families here at home was awful. It was a long, emotional year. When he came home though, again, it was as though he’d never been gone. The minute we saw each other, everything fell right back into place.

This tour hasn’t been as hard emotionally here at home. Ramadi was just a rough place and where he is now, while it’s not all wine and roses, it’s definitely not as bad as the last time. The R&R had me a bit worried though. Since we didn’t have this experience before, I worried a bit. Not so much about the reunion, but the good-bye being again so soon…

When we picked him up at the airport, the minute we hugged him it was as it’s always been…like he was never gone.

__________________________________________

Well, he’s now been gone two weeks and one day. Last week I just closed myself up in this house and went between wanting to cry and being pissed at the world. My normal adjustment. Anger is my defense mechanism. Always has been I guess and unfortunately I can do it OH SO well heh heh.

I let myself have a good long sob in the bathroom on Friday – and unfortunately my children heard. I just detest that…on the one hand I want them to know it’s ok to cry and grieve when Daddy goes away, but at the same time, the only glue holding us together these days is me. I’m not a big crier in front of my children, so when I do cry it scares them and that’s the last thing they need.

After enough years of this, I know this is my normal. It doesn’t make it any easier though. The anger part is slowly subsiding. By the time the babies head back to school at the end of August, hopefully I’ll have my shit together. I just honestly didn’t think him being home two weeks would make this deployment feel as though we’re starting ALL over again. I’m such an idiot….I should have known.

At any rate, August starts tomorrow. Month NUMBER ELEVEN. Four more to go. I still have to make it through son’s birthday, Halloween, Thanksgiving and if my luck is as usual, Christmas too. Just sucks and I’m not quite ready to say I’m done with my pity party for one. Almost, but I’m just not quite there….

Damn I miss you and I cannot wait until the day is here when you’re finally home for good….I love you so very much.

Now THIS????

When I was young, I had a problem that we never really discussed. It wasn’t that anyone was ashamed or anything of that nature, it was more, “Shannon has a tendency to walk in her sleep, so keep an eye on her.”

I never worried about it and neither did Mother or anyone else- although looking back, maybe someone should have. I believe the last episode (without a better word to call it), I was over 16 because I know I had my drivers license due to what happened. I had an old muscle car that had eaten alternators from the time my father had purchased it brand new in 1977. In a three month span, I had changed the alternator, starter and solenoid. When you’re young, poor and capable, you fix your own car to save money. I’m proud to say I could work on a car better than most of my guy friends growing up. Always believing I came by my talent honestly – since I’ve always thought my Dad was so talented he could fix a car with a bowl of oatmeal and a string if necessary.

The sleep walking episodes were always few and far between – now that I’m thinking about it. I’ve not thought about this in years and years, so stay with me here as I try to remember and not ramble too much. The first incident I remember was while spending the night with my best friend at her grandmother’s house. I think we were 12 or 13 years old. For some reason we were there by ourselves. Her grandmother was in the hospital I think. Anyhow, we decided to sleep in the living room and I got stuck in this uncomfortable chair. Sometime in the night I dreamed a woman woke me up, took me by the hand and said, “Come on baby, sleep back here on this bed. No one is going to care.” I woke up to a panicked friend who got scared when she didn’t see me when she woke up – only to find me in a spare bedroom, curled up on top of the covers. She asked what I was doing back there and all I could do is tell her about what seemed real in my dream, but I distinctly remember in my dream how good it felt to lay down on the bed, compared to being cramped up in that chair. Being kids, sleep walking never dawned on us – we just assumed it must be the ghost and that was the reason we NEVER spent the night there again lol. We always felt odd in her grandmother’s house. The backyard was great with an old cement pool – but once you went inside, it was a different story.

I don’t remember any other sleeping walking until I was 16 or so. I’d gotten on the couch after supper one night. I didn’t feel good, so I thought I’d just rest for a bit. The next thing I know, Mother is talking LOUDLY saying, “Shannon, WHERE are you going??!” I remember feeling shaky and awful and confused. I’m not on the couch, I’m standing on the back patio with my Mother and I have no clue how I got there. She said I’d just gotten up and opened the back door and when she asked where I was going I said I was going to get the cat food of all things lol. She said I had a strange look on my face and even though her brain was going 90 to nothing thinking “Well, maybe she bought cat food and left it in her car” she said her inner voice said that something wasn’t right and she needed to follow me.

I would go a while without an episode and then they’d come on again once I was well into my teens, working full time and going to school. One episode, I never even woke up. Step father said I’d gone to bed several hours before and since it was 1 in the morning, he was startled to see me coming down the hall at that hour. I was a HARD sleeper as a teen because I was so damn tired lol and he knew it wasn’t normal for me to get up in the middle of the night. He said I walked to the front door and he asked if anything was wrong. I said something about my car needing a part (step-father is a lawyer and couldn’t work on a car to save his life so I’ll never know what part I was buying for that old car in my sleep lol). Step father said he told me he’d take me in the morning to get it, just go on back to bed and get some good rest. He said I seemed fine with that and went on back to bed.

Again, the sleepwalking would seem to go away and then one day I wake up with a sore on my right cheek. Not realizing it’s there, I go into the kitchen and Mother says, “What in the heck happened to your face? Did you sneak out?” I think she’s finally lost it and tell her I have no clue what in the world she’s talking about. About that time, my face starts hurting and sure enough I have a red, yucky looking long sore on my right cheek. She’s not believing I have no clue what happened – until she notices that we’re all just getting up but the front door isn’t closed all the way. Something we NEVER did was leave doors unlocked.

I walk outside and by my car is my tool set that had been in my back seat floor board and it’s on the side of the car the starter is located. A starter and solenoid I’d just changed about a week prior. The only thing we can come up with is I must have been out there in my sleep and scratched my face. I vaguely remember dreaming about working on the car…

Now, it’s been years and years since I’ve had any sleep walking episodes. I don’t recall ever having one during our marriage and don’t recall any episodes the years prior to meeting husband and marrying him. This morning though, I wake up in the chair in the living room. Not too odd. I’ve not been sleeping well and I often get up in the middle of the night and dose off in the chair. I go in to make coffee though and when I open up the coffee maker, there’s a used filter in there. Again, not too odd since I had made coffee yesterday evening to have a cup after supper and sometimes I forget to toss it out before going to bed. When I went to remove the filter, what I saw next scared the shit out of me. On top of the coffee grounds is sugar. The minute I see that, I vaguely remember dreaming something about putting a lot of sugar on top of the coffee grounds – which makes no damn sense. However, there it is – sugar around the edges that is now hard and stuck together. In the center there is no sugar, it’s just around the edges…

So I am a little worried. The idea of sleep walking without anyone here keeping an eye out scares me. Hopefully, it’ll be like years ago and I’ll not have another episode for months or years. This is just the last thing I would have thought would come up during this deployment….good grief.