Saturday, October 25, 2008

Worst Blogger Ever

I've chosen to not write for the past week. I've thought about it several times, and determined to put it out of my mind until I could sort myself out. Not quite there yet.
I'm not sure what's going on. A separation of mind and belief? I am, for once, caught up on bills. The house is stocked with groceries, and 'stuff'....I even bought myself new glassware & serving bowls for the kitchen. There's cash in my wallet, money in the bank, and more income on the way. The kids are fine. The week with their Dad went well, and I came back to a relatively unscathed home.

The X still has plans to see his daughter on the first of November (has anyone else noticed? That's just a week away!) and is acting strange. Lots of jokey emails, phone calls that last for hours. Last night, he asked to speak to Beena. Never. I've heard him complain about soldiers wives who force the kid on the phone and the soldier is left standing there with no idea of what his child is saying. It was surreal for him to ask, and even more so when I could hear him laughing up a storm at her gibberish.

He wants to take us shopping while he's here to stock up on winter clothes and shoes for her. He wants to put me back on his cell phone plan so that I'll have reliable phone service instead of using a pay as you go phone the way I've done since I left him and he turned off my cell. He's bringing additional money to add to my car fund & is planning on staying in Colorado after he's officially released from duty. (That's a big one...he always wanted to move to the East coast, and I couldn't fathom the idea of being so far away from my family once we were able to choose our location)

If I don't's because I don't know what to write. I feel emotionally challenged right now.
I'm sorry, and I hope you'll forgive me.
It'll get greater later!

Sunday, October 19, 2008

I'm a good 'lil worker bee!

I've been so dadgum busy....I've built two websites in the past 4 days.
Oh. My. Freakin'. Eyes.

We finally got home tonight about an hour and a half ago, and I suddenly realized I hadn't posted anything in days. I thought about it...many times. Just couldn't stop tweaking and tuning long enough to get 'er done, if ya know what I mean.

Tomorrow I will (I will! I WiLL!) post pictures and a long lovely blog about my happenings at the folks. Some of it funny, some sad, some downright disgusting. You'll want to eat before you stop by. Unless you're a Mom. Then, you've seen worse.

For now, please enjoy our version of "Redneck River-Rafting" (If you can't tell, we tied a rope around him to pull the girls on their 'boat' and he's standing...not swimming. The dam was open so the water was quite shallow!)

Wait!! Don't go yet!!!! Check this out first, and's a work in progress, so be nice!
(I've still got to add pictures that I couldn't access from my Mom's house, and change pretty much all of it. My biggest fear was the publishing part as that's the part my old partner used to do. The design is my forte, and now that I've gotten past my fear, I can focus on that) The other website is still waiting on the host...serves me right for not using the same for both....

Monday, October 13, 2008

Got Tagged!

Since, I've been at my Mommy's house, I've been regressing. I suddenly feel the urge to tattle when anyone makes me mad, I'm eating copious amounts of comfort food, sleeping in, ohhhh...I could really get used to this.

In keeping with theme, I've been tagged. And, I didn't even hear anybody say they were "It." That's sort of like cheating isn't it? It is!!! MOMMY!!! It was HER!
Here are the ruley-rule-rules. Don't expect me to follow them to the T, cause I'm in my teenage phase at the moment and am feeling particularly rebellious.

The rules:
1. Link to your tagger and list these rules on your blog.
2. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog - some random, some weird.
3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blog.
4. Let them know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
  • I'm a nomad. I get really bored after a couple of years in one place and have to move. It makes for an interesting lifestyle at times, but one I've had to tame since I'm now supposed to be all grown up and responsible and $hit.

  • For my 23rd birthday my girlfriend and I had matching butterfly's tattooed. Her's is on her neck. Mine is a secret.

  • In my fantasy world, one of the gazillion songs I've written is picked up by a major artist, and I only find out when I turn on the radio and hear my words being sung in a heavenly voice. Then, I go home and find a check for a hundred billion dollars in the mailbox. Sweet 'eh?

  • I really want some cider donuts today. It's become an affliction, and I can't think of anything else. Thanks for that!

  • I'm listening to crickets chirping, birds singing, the wind rushing through the trees, and an occasional splash from trout (I hope) in the river. You're jealous..aren't you?

  • I worry too much

  • Love, love, loooooooove True Crime stories. I'm obsessing over the Changeling right now. (Though, from what I've read, the movie is highly fictionalized from the 'true' story)

And, that's it. 7. That was a whole lot harder than it actually looked. And, since I'm from a generation of slackers, I'm not going to tag anybody. (really..I just don't think anyone knows who I am and am too afraid of rejection to try.) (Really, who are you kidding? Rejection? Whatevs!) (Really, it's all kinda true. hehehehehehe)

Oh ya, and a shoutout to my homie on the Midland P.D. who welcomed a brand new baby boy into the world on MY birthday. Over eight pounds. HOLY MOTHER OF GOD. Next time, might I recommend a little less miracle grow? Oh ya, and get your wife a spa day. NOW! I said, MOVE BOY!!

Nectar for the soul.....

Saturday, October 11, 2008


Want that cake. No. I need that cake. Could it possibly taste as wonderful as it looks?
Ahhh...another form of art for me to obsess over. Wonder if I could make that in my kitchen.

I'm at my parent's house. We're safely ensconced in the little bedroom that I've claimed as mine, with my Beena sleeping so peacefully next to me. She doesn't know it, but she's been kissed about a gazillion times since she fell asleep. She's so beautiful.

It's been a crazy day. Between dog fights, lost keys, and an insane amount of coffee...I'm exhausted. My birthday gift from my Mom was a bag with plates, napkins, balloons, streamers, and all the other fun stuff so that I can "throw myself a party." Hey. Don't judge. She asked for (and received) rocks for her birthday. I'm lucky she didn't give me a glass jar full of dirt and tell me to save it for my Great-Grandchildren. (now there's a get rich-later scheme. Collect dirt. Someday, that stuff'll cost more than fuel!)

My brother and I almost immediately got into a heated debate over the election. That lasted right up to the point that I thought he was going to have an aneurysm. Good Times, I tell ya. Good Times.

My parents house isn't very big. My bedroom is caddy-corner to my brothers room and off the hall from the living room. I can hear my Dad watching his Western (Loud! When will someone convince him that he needs hearing aids???) And, my brother listening to music on his computer in his bedroom. My Mom's asleep (because it's late, and she's been up with babies all day) and I feel wonderful. I miss Turkey's #1 & #2...but I know how happy they are with their Dad.

So, here we go. Day 1 of 7. Get ready to be bombarded by everything log homes. Tomorrow, I'm making my Mom take me to the office to check out the computer systems there. I need to know what kind of memory I'm working with and what kinds of changes are going to have to be made before I can sit down and write out a detailed plan of what I'll need to accomplish this week.
I may not have time to write much, but I promise to keep up as best I can. This week will be the hardest. We have to figure out exactly how much work I can do from home and how much time I'll actually have to spend here in Oklahoma.
For the Turkey's...I'm hoping for a 10 to 12 day period once a month. Just me though? 24 days per month oughta cut it. Maybe a few more...


Friday, October 10, 2008

You knew it was coming.....

.......didn't you?

Jekyll & Hyde

Yesterday, as I was breezing through my day with naught a care in the world (hehehe) I got an email from the X.

X: "Hey can you call me please? It's really important"
Queen Mommy: "Nope. Sorry. Only have email at the moment as my phone is on the fritz...whats up?"
X: "It's too much to write. Just call when you can"
QM: "You ok?"
X "Yes"

So, a few hours later, I gave him a call. He did this "hold on, hold on" routine where I could hear him scrambling in the midst of the barracks to get somewhere private to talk. I'm almost positive I heard a joke directed at him about his current sex life, which sounded quite optimistic for him!

He finally gets somewhere semi-quiet and this is what he had to say,
"Um, I don't remember what I needed to talk to you about...(insert much hemming & hawing here)...oh yea, do you think you could meet me halfway between there and here in a couple weeks so I can see Corrina? I'll pay for your gas and a hotel room for the weekend. No cute stuff...we'll get two beds"

What? You haven't so much as asked about her in 5 months. Now you want me to drive for 6 hours with a child who doesn't even know who you are anymore? You're insane man. Go back to the bar...have another drink.
I should have said that. Instead I said that I would think about it.
Of course, as with everything else in my life, this isn't an easy decision. If I go, I take the risk of leaving with a broken heart. Not because I have expectations, those have been gone for some time. But, because I don't want to feel what I felt before I left him. I don't want that ache in my chest that makes it difficult to breathe. I don't want to cry all the way back home because I know my marriage is over. I've already been through that. I cried for 12 of a 13 hour trip. Basically, if I wasn't stopped at a gas station or rest stop...I was bawling. Why do it to myself again?

Well, here's why. The kid. This man and I created her together. She has a right to know him. To love him, and maybe she can help him.
Maybe she can't. Maybe this is all BS, and he's going to bail in a week or two anyway. Maybe I'm getting all discombobulated and screwy in the head for no reason.
But, what if he puts her in his car and drives away? What rights to I have? None. At least, none that will get her back immediately. If that's his plan, then I'm willing to bet there are already plane tickets purchased to get him to PA as fast as he can. And, yes...there is an airport in the town he wants to meet in.
My Mom wants me to go...but, take my Dad.

I sent him an email asking if he would prefer to fly into DF-Dub...I can pick him up from there and he can stay at my house for the weekend. That way, he has no vehicle to take off with her in, and his only ride back to the airport would be me or a $60 taxi-cab (which would be hella easy to stop if he tried to run with the kid...suckers have dispatch. So do cops.)
I didn't get much sleep last night for thinking about this. Totally threw me for a loop. I hate loops.

Thursday, October 9, 2008

The season for change...

I don't want to mess with whatever powers that may be out there tweaking things here & there to make my life a bit easier. So, I'm hesitant to take a deep breath and accept that things may actually be taking a turn for the better.
But, I think they are.
It seems like each day is bringing more and more good news, positive reinforcements, and opportunities for me to better our lives.

Last night I got the news that a chunk of cash that's been "missing" since June, will be arriving on my doorstep in 3 weeks.
As you know if you've been following along, I just chose to split my time between my home here in DF-Dub and the business my Grandfather, Mother, & Father run in Oklahoma.
For that, I'll need something a bit more efficient than the 1995 Buick Skylark I was able to purchase after my husband ceased payment on the 2007 Mitsubishi Gallant that he agreed to pay in lieu of child support. (Let me condense a really long story; I sold my paid off nice mini-van, bought him a motorcycle and caught up on his car payments when he got behind last year, I had no vehicle and no choice but to agree with him & got severely screwed. Never trust an X)
Anywhooo, This chunk of cash that's coming is going to purchase a car that will make the 5 hour trip to Mommy's house without fear of it falling apart while I motor down the freeway. I am not kidding. It's also going to purchase a TomTom or something to go in the new(er) car. Cause, I have been so damn lost since the Skylark had the audacity to come without navigation.

Could I get screwed and this money never show up? Yep. Might it show up and be a significant amount less than I expect? Absolutely. It's coming from the X. My expectations are very low. However, this money is also money that he cannot claim he didn't receive, or he receives less than what we expect. The amount was known almost a year ago, and while he may try and pull something shady...he's got to know that we will eventually be going to court, and that he will be required then to provide all the cash he's jilted from me since I left him. (The amount is staggering, and would make your jaw drop. Especially considering all of his needs are paid for through the military, and his paychecks are just fun money to him.)
I keep good documentation, in the hopes that someday, someone will require him to explain his rationale. I don't even care so much about the money. I've made it this far... I want an explanation as to how he could do it to his child. I pray for a court psychiatrist to be appointed, and for that psychiatrist to finally see what I see. The man has no emotions. Unless he's on a high of some kind, he feels nothing.

This isn't about the X though. This is about me and making it. If he comes through without trying to one-up me, or make me literally pay for leaving him again, we're going to be better than ok sooner than I'd hoped. (Not sooner than I'd planned, because this shit should've been done a loooooong time ago)
Saturday is my birthday. I'm asking all my bloggy friends to send up a little prayer that all the little details behind this cash go well. That nothing interferes and we're able to purchase a vehicle that I can place my baby seat in without a twist in my tummy telling me the thing isn't safe.
I'm also asking that each of you drink some nice wine, or open a beer, or knock back a Jagerbomb for me. At least one. Maybe ten. Or fifteen. Don't go overboard though! ;-)

Wednesday, October 8, 2008


You know what? I just deleted a post that I spent an hour and a half typing because it doesn't need to be out there.
Writing out what I liked and disliked about each candidate and reading it myself, made me realize that I'm not sure who I want to vote for. I thought I knew, but a conversation between a Grandfather and his Grandson this morning, made me doubt myself. The funny thing is, what I heard only made me more staunch in my choice at first. But, I came home and in the course of writing...did some fact checking.
Not only was I wrong, but the Grandfather was telling his Grandson lots of things that weren't true at all. Was it because he didn't do his fact checking? Probably. But, the kid didn't know that. And, neither did I. I saw this man, who was speaking about his service in Vietnam, and how his generation did things differently, and I simply believed that he knew what he was talking about. That he wouldn't spout off information that he didn't know to be true.
My mind isn't changed~yet. I think I'll still vote for the candidate that I've believed in all along. But, I'm beginning to wonder how many things that have helped form my decision are really true. If you knew me, you'd be shocked to know that I just admitted that. Jen-nay, they haven't gotten me...don't worry. But there's a light..way up there~ See it? No? Sonofabeatch. Maybe they have gotten me.
Not much longer. I've got lots more fact checking to do...


OK. Give. Her. Back.
It's been 3 days. I need my baby. I'm not cool with this anymore. I know she's having a great time chasing turtle's (Tuk? Where go Tuk?), and splashing in the River with her Pawpaw and bestfrienemy. But, uh...please?
It's waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too quiet out here. There isn't anyone demanding to watch Diego on the computer even though there's a perfectly good 42" television in the next room. There's no one to remind me 467 times a day that the "boobus" is coming to bring "Bubba."
No-one asking for food then throwing a temper tantrum when I make her eat. No-one slathering herself with make-up products then washing herself off with my favorite silk shirt. No-one to put each morsel of dog food into the water bowl so it's softened enough to eat.
The worst part? No kisses, no hugs, nobody climbing into the chair behind me and tickling me on the neck. No-one sneaking into my bed in the middle of the night and forcing me to cuddle with her dirty, stinky, dirt-trodden woobie.


How many more days 'till this torture is over?

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Personality through portraits

Youniverse Personality TestYouniverse Personality Test

I sometimes do these types of things to pass the time and laugh at how inaccurate they actually are. This one was dead on. Surprisingly, when I read through the pages at the end...I really felt like it was talking about me.
Try it out, and let me know if yours is as good a match for your personality as mine was!

Monday, October 6, 2008


Holy...What happened?...Where am I? Who am I? Whuz goin' on here?
I just got out of bed. No, I'm not sick. No, noone has died. No, there hasn't been a catastrophic emergency that had laden me with fear and reduced to a crumbling mess of nerves and therefore I stayed in bed to wait out the bad times like an old Victorian lady...though, that might be cool.
Nope. Just slept in. Till Noon.
Let me clarify, I did get up at 6:30 as usual to wake up the older Turkey's. But, as I was pulling the box of cereal out of the pantry for their breakfast of champions, Turkey #1 says, "Mom, you never have a morning without Corrina, why don't you go back to sleep and I'll let you know before we get on the bus." (That child is friggin' amazing, I tell ya!)
It is unbelievable what a full night (and half the day)'s sleep can do for you.
The wind is blowing outside, and my chimes sound beautiful. There's a cool breeze coming in through the open windows, that smells heavenly. The dogs are chillin' out peacefully, and I haven't heard a baby cry in 24 hours.
Someone come pinch me so I'll know this is real.

Steppin' Up

My folks are in the log cabin business. My Mother & Grandfather run the sales and building side of things and my Father does the restoration. (Please excuse all the shameless link plugging...but I want you to love log homes as much as we do, and subsequently purchase one of the beauty's and help fund my children's college educations fall in love every time you pull into your drive.)
Anyway, back to my original, what the heck was my original thought? Oh yea, Log Homes and How They're Changing My Life.

My brother and I are both going to work for my parents off & on for a while. He's gone ahead out to Oklahoma with our baby daughters while I get things sorted out here. I'll be headed back to the river on Friday (if all goes as planned), and the older Turkeys will stay here with their Dad and StepMom-ish. Yes. Here. In my home. My sanctuary. The place where no one can hurt me or give me grief. And, I've invited the enemy to sleep in my bed (ew. ew. ew. ew.) and gave them the responsibility of getting my children to school. Making sure they have their homework before they leave in the morning. Brushing their teeth!!!
One of the reasons the judge gave me custody in the odd situation we were in, was because Turkey #1 almost failed Kindergarten. (Texas doesn't require K, so we were able to sneak past the system. Because it wasn't her fault.)
She was absent or tardy more than 65 days of the school year. And by tardy, we're talking 10 or 11 in the morning. I'm sorry, but no 5 year old should be responsible for getting herself up, fed, dressed, ready & off to school without an adults help.
(I was working at a law firm with very demanding hours. Lived in a crappy area. His parents have loot and live in an exclusive neighborhood with an amazing school, so the kids stayed with him during the week)
I've had custody since then, and both kids are doing fabulous in school. (I'll brag on that in another post.)
I believe, cause I can be an optimist, that they've grown up and know better. That they'll be able to wake up long enough to get done, the things that need to be done. Then go back to sleep till the Turkeys get home from school.
We're going to try it for a week. I don't know if or how it's going to work out, but I'm preparing myself by knowing that this is a hell of a lot better than hiring some random person to care for the lives of two of my favorite people.
I know that the kids will be safe and taken care of. I know that they won't be ignored, or abused. If that means I have to let them stay in my house, use my bathroom, be together *ugh* in my bed (then burn the sheets and sanitize the mattress) and all that, then so dang be it.
But let me warn you now. If that hootchie Mama so much as scratches any of my cookery, I promise, it will be all out WAR.

My Mom wants me to be there, and that's the biggest reason I want to go. After all that this year has brought, I can be so grateful that it's brought me (literally) closer to my Mom. Instead of emails talking about our lives, we're getting to live them together. I know my parents want me to move to Oklahoma. They've both all but begged for it. They want this company to thrive because the name Heritage means more than just a brand. (I know this also sounds like shameless plugging, but it is the honest to God truth) The homes, and the company that my family is involved in are meant to be passed down from generation to generation. My parents want to be retired. They would love nothing more than to see my brother and I run the restoration side of the company. My Dad would love nothing more than to spend his days with his baby Granddaughters down by the river chasing turtles, and counting fish.
But, my kids have been in so many different schools already. Leaving Sergio, the military...that was all supposed to bring a stop to things. I promised to settle them, and I can't break a promise to my children. I have to stick it out here for a while.

Ugh. I hate being conflicted. It would be so easy to just go to my parents. Let my Mom take care of me for a while. Take a break. Enjoy the peace and quiet. Rake in the dough, and stash most of it away...

Sorry for the off topic, random, back & forth post tonight. My brain is on overload....

Saturday, October 4, 2008

Till Death (or drugs) Do Us Part...

Today was harder than most. Today, I miss my husband. Before Iraq. Before all the pain, drinking, fights and drama. I miss being able to cuddle up with him and feel like the world was going to be all right.
No matter what happens, for a while; I loved him. He was my knight in shining fatigues. He made me feel like the most beautiful, fabulously important person on Earth. We only got married after he begged me to give life with him a chance. His persistence only made me love him more.
I honestly believe, had he never been to Iraq, our marriage would still be intact. He wouldn't feel the need to punish himself for doing things he inherently felt were wrong. He wouldn't drink to drown out the voices telling him that he made a mistake.

Sergio was injured playing football on a "morale day." After his tour of duty was over, he had surgery and was unable to re-deploy with his company. The soldiers he'd trained would be facing some of the toughest provinces of Iraq without him. They would be led by someone else.
He failed them.
In their tenure during the deployment of 2006, the Infantrymen of Bravo Co. 1/68 captured (or killed) more insurgents than any other deployed group at the time. My husband was proud of the job he was doing for our country. More than that, he was proud to be a soldier. Truly. He was groomed as a solder, raised as soldier, he was always supposed to be a solder.

I thought things were going to be ok when he came home. He would stare at Corrina in awe of his little person and ask me, "Do you think she's happy here?" "Do you think she knows how much I love her?"
He was so gentle with her, so curious about all her little movements. He wanted to see her crawl, and walk. He couldn't wait for the day that he could take his little playmate outside and have fun.
But, somewhere between there and here he got lost. He found out that his knee would require not just one, or two, but three different surgery's. He developed infections, and was in quite a bit of pain. Through that, he became addicted to Percocet. He was being prescribed 50 pills and they were being refilled every week. Sometimes more. For months after the pain should have been gone, he kept popping those pills. When his doctor refused to prescribe more, he stole them from our neighbor. Or, bought them from friends who'd had similar surgery's but didn't require the pain pills for them.
In November, I lost a baby. After I came home from the dnc, I left my purse and bag of prescription medicine on the dining room table and went straight to bed. Several hours later, I woke up for dinner to a beautiful bouquet of flowers and 5 of my Vicadin gone from the bottle.
Even knowing the emotional and physical pain I was in, my husband stole the medicine the doctor prescribed to me.
His addiction petered out once he realized that people were talking. Still, to this day as far as I'm aware, if he sees a pain pill he starts complaining that his knee hurts.
How very 'Army Wives' of us, 'eh?

I don't know the exact moment where I realized that my husband had an addiction. I know that his Mother warned me that he had the personality to become addicted. To alcohol, drugs, pills...whatever. She did warn me. But, when I called her for help; she brushed me off. Told me that I needed to take my children to church. That God was punishing me through Sergio for not being the wife I took vows to be. She warned me that if I didn't start going to church every Saturday, (they're Church of God, they believe the Sabbath falls on Saturday and not Sunday) that my marriage would continue to deteriorate until there was nothing left to save.
When I asked her why she couldn't talk to her son about his problem she told me that it was between her son & God, and she wouldn't intervene.
Instead, she bought him a plane ticket to go 'home' to PA for the holidays. Just him. He left the kids and I alone for 30 days over the Christmas season. His family doesn't celebrate Christmas as a holiday Per Se. I was once told that having a Christmas tree in my home was blaspheme and that I was teaching my children to disobey God. So, even though he'd previously promised me that he wouldn't be a "Grinch," and he would celebrate the holidays as a time for family, food and fun...he left. He spent over a grand on liquor, & beer and fun money in the month that he was there, while the kids and I scrimped just to get by.

I truly believe that he uses pills and booze as a way to forget Iraq. To numb the pain of the friends he lost, and the lives he took. Before Iraq, Sergio was full of life. Happy all the time. After a while, he was only happy when he was on something. Part of me thinks that he killed our marriage as a way to punish himself for whatever he did. He's told me so little about the things that happened. And, he tells them in a way that make you feel excited at the progress being made over there. He speaks proudly, animated and even boastful at times. But, I saw him when no-one else did. I saw the times that he drank alone and watched video's of troops being bombed in Iraq on youtube. I listened while he railed and ranted about the people being killed because they weren't being vigilant enough. And, I held his head in my lap the very few times he let himself cry over his mixed up and despondent emotions.

It's been 5 months since he last saw his daughter. 5 months since he heard her voice, or smelled her hair. He's cut her out of his life because I left. In so many ways, I feel that I failed him. Us.
But, I had to get my children out of a volatile environment. Things weren't getting better. Counseling didn't help. Being military certainly didn't help. I wish I could have helped him. I wish I would have done more, or tried harder. But, even now, I don't see any options that I missed.I feel like I'm the only person who sees what has happened to the real Sergio, but he won't let anyone else close enough for the truth. He stays jolly and happy until he's alone and can brood in silence. His family believes that God will sort it out. The minister that married us believes that his Mother knows best. His Commanders believe that he passed all the reintigration testing and therefore the matter should be closed.

I am a wife who lost her husband to Iraq. He didn't die, but he's just as lost as if he did.
I miss him. And, I will always love him. I wish he knew that.

This is probably the one and only post I'll ever write where I outline the X in a decent light. The things he does angers me so much that I rarely have moments to reflect on the true reason for our demise.