Army Wife Blundering

My goal is to be like Claudia Joy Holden: Loving mother, supportive wife, successful college student, FRG president. Right now I’m like Roxie LeBlanc: shotgun wedding, living on post, baby-father drama, and I don’t even have a Hump Bar! I am, however, a loving mother,  a college student (success to be determined) and hopefully, come September 5th I’ll be FRG President, too. As for the supportive wife part, I’M TRYING. It’s actually a LOT harder than it sounds.

To love someone so much, we bump heads a lot. Right now, we are in the “Pamela and Chase pre-divorce” stage of our marriage. But I don’t believe in divorce. That sucker is stuck with me forever. He does whatever the heck he wants; apparently, I’m controlling and sometimes emasculating. Those weren’t the exact words he used but that is what I got out of it.  How to be supportive: I have no fricking clue.

How can I support a unit that keeps my husband away from home almost EVERY DAY for 14-18 hours a day? How can I support a husband who would rather play EVEonline than have a conversation with me most times? Don’t get me wrong, I love the Army and I love my husband; sometimes, I just want to kick their butts, though.

So I have recently been called to be the secretary for Relief Society at church, I’m taking 4 or 5 classes with a course-load of 10, I’m going to be the FRG president,  and I’m attempting to keep up with all my surveys because in a week I’ll be in Virginia and I’m going to need some extra spending money.

I’m going to be in Virginia for a month, separated from my husband. On the bright side, I’m going to get to see Jermahl, which is great because Druggie is trying to make it hard for me to talk to him. Unless of course, I pay for a 7-year-old’s cell phone when they have two working phones and 3 computers. They probably won’t let me Skype with him because the house is still filthy and they don’t want me to see it.

Anyway, non sequitur. I feel bad for Judas and Jesse. Judas will be away from his daddy and Jesse won’t have his wife or his kids. L He has this four-day weekend and I want to make it special. Unfortunately, a day and a half of it has been wasted. Claudia Joy would have already done something spectacular for General Holden. I pulled a Roxie and burned the bacon. Even Roland is better at being an Army wife than me.

Maybe I’ll let Jesse play Eveonline the rest of the weekend and Jude and I can watch the 4th season of Army Wives. Jude stops whatever he is doing when it comes on. It makes him do this, though:

He looks like Jesse more and more every day.

Eff You, Too, Miranda

Happy Monday, readers! So this weekend Jesse started his actual job, and we found out that he will be working from sunup to sundown for weeks on end. So pretty much, I’m never going to see my husband again unless he has block leave (the soldiers’ 2-week reward vacation after being treated like a slave). So yesterday, I decided I was going to unpack some more –there isn’t a lot left, just need the time to get to it—and Judas decided he was constipated and had to scream the entire day. He and I were miserable together.* So, I got to ‘straighten’ up my living room, and the rest of my day was spent nursing, comforting, singing to Judas.

DH saying goodbye to Jude before work.

Today, the husband had to be at work 6:30, and today was going to be attempt #2 at cleaning up. I finally got Jude down, and ran downstairs to clean up. I opened my dishwasher to find my dishwasher sucks SUPER-HARD and didn’t wash my dishes. So I’m going to have to hand-wash them. Unfortunately, the water in my new house is lukewarm at best, so I had to call maintenance to get some hot water so I can clean properly. So I swept and mopped the living room, cleaned off the counters and stove and am about to sweep and mop the kitchen when my DS decides his nap is over. Sigh. Well, I guess I can put him in the stroller and we can go check the mail. No one loves me; Jesse got something from the post office, though.

I decided to roll Judas around the house in the stroller while I put things away. I shoved some army gear in the closet, and I’m stopped in my tracks. There is a box from Things Remembered that his ex-girlfriend gave him. I told him to throw this box away. He didn’t. I’m going to assume he just forgot because it was in a pile of crap next to the front door. I look at this box, and I realize, it’s kind of nice. Unfortunately, it has a ‘beautiful’ engraving on it from the ex.

You Complete Me,
Love Always, Saima”

I’m a jealous hater (only sometimes) and I WANT this box, but in order to keep it, I need to get that chick’s words OFF! So I take it upon myself to get a steak knife and try to pry off the engraved plate. I’m getting excited because surely but slowly, it’s coming off.

I guess it was a spiteful thing to do. I could have just thrown the box away. But no, I had to put my mark on it. And karma decided to put its mark on me. The knife slipped and I stabbed myself in the middle finger. It was pretty deep. So, I bled all over my kitchen. I had to pick up Judas and carry him upstairs so I could rinse the blood off. So now I have a hole in my finger, that stupid box is still on my kitchen counter-engraving attached, and I wasted like 15 minutes of my life being an idiot. That’s what I get…

This was right after I rinsed some of the blood off so it doesn’t look as horrible.

*Side note: If your infant is constipated, and you need to give them some instant relief, use Karo light corn syrup. Just 1 tsp is all it takes. They should some relief within an hour or two.

P.S. I have some pretty awesome stories to share throughout the week, so stay tuned for more.

Screw Father’s Day

So this past Mother’s Day, I woke up to kisses from my sweet husband, breakfast in bed, lilies on the nightstand and a spa day awaiting me, child-free. I was so happy that I—Oh, wait. No.

No, that’s what I wished had happened. Instead, I had a grumpy husband, who ignored me for his video game most of the day and…was less than verbally polite when he actually did acknowledge my presence. He went and spent around $300 dollars on himself and his brother, and I got a card…the next day. Mandi and our friend Jessica begged him to just tell me ‘Happy Mother’s Day’ and I wouldn’t be so mad, but he refused to do that. As a matter of fact, he didn’t say it until the next afternoon in Burger King. He told me that since the day before went so poorly, we were going to have Mother’s Day that day. I honestly can’t remember what we did. I think we went and saw a movie…but I was so extremely heated that it didn’t really matter to me. Of course, to keep the peace, I acted like he was being so sweet and I was so grateful for his generosity. In reality, I spent Sunday to Thursday crying whenever I found time alone. I know it doesn’t seem like a big deal. It’s just a Hallmark holiday, right? Wrong. I have postpartum depression, and everyday I plaster a smile on  because I want to seem like a cheerful wife and mother for the sake of my family. So, I deserved a day to be treated like I was worth something like every other mother the one day of the year our kids/husbands make an effort to show they care. I didn’t get that.

So for Father’s Day tomorrow, I’m going to get a hammer, smash his laptop, sell his tools while he’s asleep, and get some scissors and cut the crotch out of all his…Oh, wait. No. No…That’s just what I want to do.

I’m actually going to wake him up with kisses, make him breakfast in bed, get him something special, and try not to knock his face off because I love him…

Weekend Woes Pt. 1

I had surgery this past Thursday. I developed a hernia above my navel when I got pregnant with Jude. After I had him, I decided I was super woman and did too much, giving myself yet another hernia…this time directly behind my navel. So, yeah, I had to get them repaired before they got worse (which was happening).

It’s always a hassle for Jesse to get time off. Jude was c-section, which means Jesse was supposed to get an automatic 10 days off. I had to deal with going allll the way above his superior officers heads because they didnt want to give him his time off. :/ Having this surgery meant another 10 days. It was a hassle…and they only agreed to give him his time off he promised to come to work Monday, Tuesday and Thursday. I love the military but sometimes I hate his installation.

Anyway, Jesse is supposed to get time off because I can’t do anything for myself. I’m not even allowed to pick up the baby forat least a week. These 10 days are supposed to be me being able to drown myself in pain meds and not do anything. Because that’s pretty much what I’m supposed to do. I have Percoset. It makes me groggy; I pass out at random times, my vision is totally blurred (I’ve just been a typist for years so I can do this with my eyes closed). So, yeah, Jesse is supposed to be helping me like a good husband, right?

Day 1: Surgery…he wakes me up, I kiss Judas good-bye and leave with my friend Miranda, he drives me around the world because I lost my wallet (in my Miranda’s couch) and then takes me to the hospital. He drops me off at the door so he can park and smoke and I can check in. He doesn’t come in for like 15 minutes. That’s fine. When he does come in, he sits with me. When they take me up and I have to wash, he opens my socks for me…which I thought was really cute. We go to the pre-op room, and we talk and laugh and he tries to calm me down because I really thought I was going to die. He was great up until he needed to be calmed down because he wanted a cigarette so bad and they were taking too long to come and get me. So, he stood outside my curtain practically flagging down anyone with a hospital badge on, like, ‘Are you gonna take her yet, or what?’ LOL.

My fall risk and allergy bracelets 😛

They came and got me. I barely remember the anesthesia kicking in. They put something in my I.V., we went into the elevator, I woke up in the recovery room. Alone. Because he left to buy me a stool to get in his super-high truck and was still outside smoking. And no nurse could get a hold of him. So I called him, told him I needed him. My surgeon never came to talk t

o either of us about how the surgery went. They just discharged me when I was lucid enough to stand. I was really high. It felt extremely strange. I was in a lot of pain. Jesse put my clothes on me. All of them. So sweet.

We went back to Miranda’s. She and I talked a lot. Jesse helped me move around a lot. He super sweet about taking me to the bathroom. When we got home, he helped me inside. He changed Jude’s diaper (he rarely does that). He was just amazing.

Until he got sleepy. After that I was on my own. He is not a mo

rning person. He hates being woken up…But neither am I. I still have the common sense to not be a blow-hard at certain times. He was pissed he had to make the bottle. He was pissed he had to keep getting up to help me go to the bathroom. He was pissed he had to hold the baby. So I had to wake up from my Percoset-induced stupor and nurse Jude, get myself to the bathroom, cry a little.

I finally got to sleep, only to be shocked awake by the glorious feeling of my drugs wearing off and the pain coming on strong. It took 30 minutes to wake him to find my pills. This is all within like the first 24 hours following my surgery. :/ Tell you more about Day 2 later today.

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