Before Iraq

(Photo of Sergio taken Aug. '06 by SGT Leonard of Bravo Co. 1/68 ~ Baquabah, Iraq)

I don't think it comes as any surprise that I love my husband. States & Separation be damned. I married him because he was everything I'd ever wanted and then some. Because his idea of a first date was carving pumpkins with my Turkeys and ordering pizza so we could all watch movies together cuddled up on blankets on the floor. Because he shared the values I based raising my children upon. And, because every time he knocked on my front door, I was deliriously happy.

The day he left for Iraq, he had to be at his duty station at 5 am. We woke up the Turkeys and bundled them in the van. It was winter and everything was gray & gloomy out. I remember sitting in the dark van waiting on his soldiers to show up before he left and thinking that these would be our last moments together for 12 long months.
What do you say in those moments? He wasn't leaving for college, or going on a long trip. He was going to Iraq. To war. To kill or be killed. I told him that I loved him, and that I would be praying for him every moment. And then, I cried. He left and I sat there and cried. Deep, crushing sobs that woke up my babies and had them climbing into the front seat to comfort me.

The next several hours are a blur. My girl had school, so off she went. My Jen-nay showed up with 2 pictures she'd taken of Sergio with a cell phone and framed for me. We sat on the floor in my bedroom and she told me how he'd pulled her aside a few days prior and told her that he was worried about how I was going to take him being in Iraq. He was worried about me.

When my phone rang at around 10 am that morning, I never expected to hear his voice asking me to get to post As Soon As Possible with.......his keys.
Yep. You can send the boy to war, but you can't make him tie his shoes!
Off I went, happily jingling his keys and for once, glad that he was as forgetful as a 4 year old. Ft. Carson was a zoo that day. Women and children were everywhere in every state of sobbing, and consoling you can think of. It was madness, and Sergio and I found a quiet corner to sit in until he was told to get on the bus that would take them to Petersen AFB where they would board the flight that would fly to Kuwait.
I have no idea what we talked about that day. I remember the feel of his ACU's against my face, and the way they smelled. (Never good..no matter how much fabric softener you stuff in the pockets) I remember being interrupted by nervous looking soldiers and thinking, "He's just a little boy. Surely his Mama's not letting him really go to Iraq. There's a friggin' WAR over there!" And being asked by every other person we saw to, "Please take one last picture of our family."

There was a woman with a small baby who also stayed off to the side by herself. I remember wanting to talk to her..she looked as lost as I felt. And determined not to cry, but I saw her hands shaking when she took their baby from her husband right before he walked away. I saw her stare at the ground determinately and then raise her clear eyes to her husband for one last wave before she turned and hurried from the building. It took every ounce of energy I had, not to run after that woman and hug her. I wanted to tell her that she was just as brave as he is. Letting her soul walk away had to be the hardest moment of her life, and that she is a wonderful woman for holding her composure. For making sure that the last image her husband had of her was one of a smiling, strong face. He could get on that plane knowing that his wife and little baby would make it through the next few months because of her. I still think of her...of them to this day.

After the boys were really gone, I went home and collapsed on my bed. I didn't cry again though. Seeing all the families that were torn apart that day made me realize how fortunate I was to be in the position I was in when he left. We weren't married yet, and I'd already been living alone and was a single parent. The only thing that really changed after he left were the empty nights. My children missed him, but he wasn't their Father and it wasn't a life-style change for him to be gone.
Little did I know...Nine days later, every bit of that would change...

Another Bombshell.....

Really? I don't get it. Am I a target of some kind?
The X just called. He wants another chance. To ensure that happens, he's moving to DF-Dub.
Isn't there a limit to the amount of morons this state can handle?
OK, I'm just being hateful. But, I don't understand how he thinks he can just force his way back into our lives. He wants to put a halt to the divorce proceedings because, "we're making a huge mistake'.
Ya, so I thought so too. A year ago. When I begged for counseling.

I'm just getting to a point where I'm proud of the things I've accomplished since I left. I'm happy with my life (albeit, it's crazy and half the time I'm rushing too much to know what's really going on)..but it's MY life. I've created, and endured all the good and the bad that comes from this place.

I'm not sure that I'm ready to be in a position where I have to decide whether or not to give up my freedom.

Me. Me. Me. I. I. I. Mine. Mine. Mine.....I sound like one of the kids. Petulant, and angry because a change is coming that I have no control over. Maybe some coffee will make this seem a little less crazy.

Here & Gone

It's over. Emotional Roller Coaster... I'm gonna make a song out of that.

I don't know where or how to start. The X called last Tuesday to say he wasn't going to be able to make it. The Army changed his schedule again, and he didn't have anyone to cover down for him.
Breathe. Sigh. Get upset. Get over it.
Cut to Thursday. My phone rang 4 times while I was conferencing with a client online. Finally answer it. The X wants to know if I'll "be around" later. Cause he's in the car. On the way. Here.
Panic. Breathe. Get annoyed. Get the house clean.
It was strange. Beena didn't know who he was or why he kept trying to hold her and kiss her. She's gone through a stage of calling every male she sees "Daddy"... so it wasn't hard for her to call him by name.

Grrr. I just can't deal with him. He IS an emotional roller coaster. While he was here, it was all about Beena. Heartfelt conversations about how much he's missed out on. How much he's missed her. Then he's gone and..just, gone. No phone calls. No emails.
His attention span is that of a 5 year old child.

The VA is requiring him to be treated for PTSD in order to receive disability for his injury. Thank you VA!!!!!!!!!
It's about time that someone else recognized the need for treatment. I'm a bit infuriated that his wife wasn't listened to during the crash of our marriage. The phone calls to his commanders that went ignored, meetings with chaplains where promises were made that never came to fruition, letters to the FRG, and Post Commander that wasted my time and brain power...
He's also being treated for something else that I'd always thought was Sergio's way of 'getting out of it'...
Apparently, there really is some short term memory loss. I can't tell you how many fights started with, "But, I told you..."
So, on that one I'll say this, "My bad"

We dressed Beena up in her Steelers outfit and bought 4 huge bags of candy in anticipation of the neighborhood hordes showing up. The older Turkeys went to their Dad's where all 4 of them dressed as pirates. (Much as I hate to admit it...they were a cute 'lil pirate family!)
Sergio left at about 8 pm after getting a phone call from the soldier who was covering his shift. Apparently, the guy's wife can't stand S. and wasn't losing her husband on his day off for him. (Ya, I've been there) So, he had to make a mad dash back to Colorado in order to get a few hours sleep before he had to work a 24 hour shift.

And, just like that...it was over. I was left with a baby dressed up for Halloween, and no-one to take her trick or treating. (I have a real problem with an empty house on Halloween night...I feel like I'm disappointing children and it hurts my heart too much to swallow.)
So, Beena and I danced around the living room, played our music waaaaaaaaaaaay too loud, and Mommy had waaaaaaaaay too much (really good) wine.
We didn't get a single trick-or-treater. I guess all the kids in the neighborhood knew that The A's were going to be in Flower Mound and didn't think (?) I'd have candy. We passed out goodie bags when the older Turkey's got home to make up for it, which saved my Mommy Soul.

Last night, my baby boy came into my room about an hour after he'd gone to bed. He was crying gut-wrenching sobs, and told me he wanted to move back to Colorado. He misses his friend, he hates it here.
We talked for a while about what it would mean if we were to move back to CO. We'd lose the friends we'd made here (ok, so I meant them...it's not as though I've really branched out). We wouldn't be as close to his Dad and the weekend visits would come to an end, and his friend (darling Gabriel) is an Army Brat...which means his life in Colorado is tenuous at best. They could be transferred at any moment with no choice but to go where the Army sends them. Just like we were when we were Army Brats.
I moved the wii to his bedroom last night because he wanted to play the new Lego Indiana Jones game, and Turkey #1 wanted to watch election updates (seriously. She's that cool!) and that triggered his memories of hanging out with Gabriel. (The pic is of Gabriel & his sister Jade) Gabe & his family lived next door to us on post. The place where my nightmares came true. I went through hell there and his Mother held me up. Her name was Maritza, and I miss her as much as my boy misses Gabriel.

Life changes and we evolve into adults based on how we react to those changes. My job is to steer my children in the direction that I hope they'll take. I hope the Turkey takes the memory of a wonderful childhood friend, and maybe this is a friendship that can last throughout the years. Maritza and I exchange emails and IM fairly often...without a doubt, it's time to get the boys in on the mix instead of just calling him in when I get a funny picture of G.

And now...its back to the grind. I'm SICK of log...wood...the color brown...google...and hello???? $50 for rights to use an image I can make with photoshop??? Jeez. Guess I'll spend 34 hours glued to that program tonight a$$wipes.

My website is up and running, albeit unfinished. Payge Diana Designs
Comments? Suggestions?

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 post...it'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!

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.

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! ;-)

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 armor...in 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.

P.S.
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.

Starlight, Starbright....

First Star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, make a wish upon you tonight.

The night my littlest baby was born was bittersweet. I was finally holding the little Turkey who'd been kicking me for months, and forced me to bed rest weeks before she made her squalling appearance. Of course I was happy, thrilled, and madly in love. But, I was also tired and achy, grouchy & sad. My family had all visited and left at my request...I wanted to be alone with my newest Angel.That day, I'd spent hours before, during, and after the labor & delivery with a cell phone plastered to my ear, talking to my husband in Baquabah, Iraq. His Commander's had given him the day off and he'd spent his day in a tiny cubby hole not nearly big enough for his 6'4" frame.
My Mom kept the video camera running right up until the last moment (due to some strange new rules regarding video taping in the birthing room) and Sergio stayed on the phone the entire time.
I still don't know why, but I was afraid for him to hear me make a sound. I didn't want him to think I was in pain. Though~ duh. He told me later that it made him unsure of what was going on. All he heard were the Dr and nurses telling me I was doing great and "PUSH". After she was born and being weighed the Dr. chimed in to Sergio, "I'm Proud of you Daddy! You didn't even Faint!" with her light southern accent, and sweet little voice.
After that things went blurry. There were people in and out of my room, Flowers everywhere. Sergio had sent 2 huge bouquets himself, and my mother (always aware of peoples feelings) cheated and had a bouquet sent "from Daddy" (just in case he wasn't able to get a florist) along with the flowers & fruit from her and my Father. All up and down the halls were doors with baby wreaths on them. Beautiful creations of ribbon, and plastic booties & pacifiers. My door boasted an Army poster of a Blackhawk & the saying, "An Army of One."
It wasn't what I would have ever wished for. And, oh, how I feel for women who are going through the same thing. But, it was beautiful. I bonded with my baby even more because I wanted to savor each and every tiny moment of her life. I knew that my phone would ring (usually around 4 am, and right after I'd just nursed her back to sleep) and I would get to relate each burp, funny face, and goofy noise to someone who was just as obsessed with the news as I was. I appreciated holding her close to me, and the smell of her hair even more because I wanted to be able to describe it to him in perfect detail.
My baby is 2 now. Into everything. And dangerous. Scary dangerous. But, I'll never forget the deep, raw love I had for her in those first few months. Where just looking at her could send my heart pitter-pattering and I would be overcome with a fervent desire to hold her little body close to mine and breathe in deep, the scent of my child. Where being away from her for even an hour was an intrusion of epic proportions, and I refused at any cost.
There's nothing like the first few weeks of falling in love with your newborn child. Getting to know them in a way that you'll be able to build on for the rest of your lives. Pretty soon, the love you feel stops making you tear up with a flood of emotion and grows into the confidant, relaxed, easy love of a Mother & Child.
I hope, when my children are old enough to have their own children that I'll remember to pass along the best piece of advice I was given, "Savor Every Moment."




Thanks for giving me the idea for this post, and if you enjoy creative writing, be sure and check this out before the contest ends! What a fun way to celebrate becoming a new Mom (again!) I had a lot of fun digging deep into the memory banks and remembering the feelings from those first few weeks. Made me go smother my baby Turkey with Sloppy Kisses!
Congratulations to those expecting!!

From there....To here

That Turkey Cracks Me Up.

There are some days where I feel as though I've been fighting this battle forever. Reality check; it's only been 10 months. 10 months of depression, and anxiety, severe weight loss, pills, doctors, diets, pills, pills, pills..then something snapped and I decided I couldn't take any more pills. Couldn't take the doctors or diets either. Couldn't deal with the X's selfish and destructive behavior any longer. Wasn't going to be a single parent who just happened to also be married. There were too many fights that began with where I needed to cut costs while he stared blankly at the wall with a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. And ended with him storming off to spend days on end at "buddies" houses because he couldn't drink & drive on post. Seriously.

On May 1st, I was told that 5 gallons of milk (per week) was too much for a family of 5. Never mind that one of the 5 was an 18 month old baby. Or that my diet included 3 servings of Carnation Instant Breakfast per day. Made with milk. Or that 50% of the dishes we prepared included generous helpings of....yougotit! Milk. No. That was too much. I (very quietly & calmly) told him that he'd just hit the brick wall. We were over as soon as I figured out a way to get my family out of Colorado (where we moved because he was stationed @ Ft. Carson) and back to my "home" state of Texas. On May 29th, I packed the car with nothing but the kids, dog, cat, and a promise from the X that he would have our 'stuff' sent to me through the military's moving company. (A failed promise, I might add)

Since then I was able to find us a home in a quiet little town outside of Ft. Worth. Close enough to the crazaziness that is DF-Dub that I don't feel too isolated, but far enough away that I don't have drug dealers living next door to me posing as Insurance Salesmen. Or something.
Yesterday, another huge hurdle was jumped when I received wheels to chauffeur my Turkeys around in. I have a fully stocked kitchen, my bills are paid (well, sorta...I say paid, I mean; they have been dealt with in an adult like and appropriate manner...they'll be paid soon) kids are clothed, bathed, groomed, loved & reminded on a daily basis that I'm the Alpha Dog in this Disney Movie!

Basically, it's all coming along. There are days where I feel like it's helpless. I can't do this because I'm not strong, smart, resourceful, driven, enough. But then days like today happen, and while it's far from idyllic, this is my Tranquility. And, I thank God for getting me through the dark days. When I'm alone, and I feel like everyone has forgotten that we're still here. We're struggling and I need you. He's there.

That makes all the difference in the World.

School is sucking me dry...

At this fabulous time in my life, I am without a vehicle. My husband and I had bought a super perdy Mitsubishi Galant Ralliart about a year ago. Then, sold my mini-van and bought him a motorcycle.
When I told him I was leaving, he agreed to pay the car note & insurance in lieu of child support. (Cause the last thing he wants to do is spend his hard earned money directly on his child)
Before I had a chance to even move out of our home, I found out that he hadn't been paying the car note. Of course he wanted me to take it. He knew I wouldn't be pimpin' it too long.
He never did pay the note, and my beautiful car was repossessed a few weeks ago. I'm working my way up to paying cash for a semi-beater because the last thing I need in my life right now is another bill. In the meantime, I'm relying on a dear friend to take me wherever I need to go. Problem is, it's a 30 minute drive to get to me. It truly sucks, because I am not a planner. I've never been a list person...even though I. Try. So. Hard. In order to be (*ahem*) afoot, you must be able to plan. Otherwise, you go to the store and you forget staples like sugar and tortillas.
Who forgets sugar? And, we use tortillas daily around here. (Great for rolled up PB&J's for the baby Turkey)
So yesterday, as I was pondering the fact that there are 2 recipes in the universe that don't call for sugar, and both of them call for tortillas...my Angel Faced 2nd Turkey hands me a note in RED writing that says "Bring snacks for 21 kids." That's all. No, please. No Thank you. I don't know about you, but RED writing from a teacher always scares the crap out of me. I found myself huddled in the bathtub with a woobie wrapped around me and my thumb in my mouth while rocking back and forth and crying, "Mommy?" "Mommy?"
Then I remembered that I am Mommy. Shit.
What I would like to know is, when the hell did school get so friggin' expensive? Why am I bringing snacks once a month for the entire class? Is there a party every day? Why are school pictures taken twice a year now? (And, why are the Spring pictures so much nicer than the Fall pictures?) Why are there Book fairs every damn month? Why did I buy $80 worth of school supplies for the boy only to be told that I need to send another $40 for more supplies?
There are forms every week for t-shirts, bags, fundraisers, money, money, money!
And, if you don't send the money that the school wants, you doom your child to be the only kid in the WHOLE SCHOOl that doesn't have his/her whole body plastered with the school name. (Which in our case is just not a real appealing one.)
I actually used to love doing the kids school parties. Making pretty platters of fruit & cheese...Now, you get no choice. The day before the party you get a note demanding to see 87 pizzas from the Italian eatery 2 states away on the teachers desk before noon the next day. And, it's written in red ink.

(That's my Daddy up there...and dang. I miss that car!)

Positive Thoughts......

I totally wanted to post a blog today, but I have nothing positive to write about. I don't really mind writing about the ups & downs, the crappy with the good, right? But if I feel like I'm just being a whiny, snivelling, cry-baby. Well. I've got some pride left. (And, besides...what is my Mommy supposed to be for?)
So, instead of alienating anyone that's had the misfortune of landing on my page today, I decided to post a simple, sweet survey. OK. Maybe not so much sweet. I am a bit bitter these days. Sorry.

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Have you ever showered naked with someone?
Yes I have. Several times. You should try it.

Where was the first kiss you had with the last person you kissed?
In the hospital room where she was born.

Who is your last text from & what does it say?
Not a clue

Latest you stayed up in the past week?
About midnight. That's when I finally feel like I've had a moment to breathe and can sleep.

Are you listening to music right now?
Always

Are you currently craving any piercings or tattoos?
I'd like to get a small clover somewhere to go with the small butterfly I have somewhere else. :-)

How long can you go without your phone?
we shall soon see....

Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?
My Jen-nay

Who last called you babe/baby?
My Dad-day

Does your phone ring in the middle of the night often?
Not very often, no. When it does it better be important. And, it usually is. Barring late night wanna-be hook-up phone-sex BS from the X.

Do you know anyone who is married that shouldn't be?
Right here folks.

Do you curse in front of your parent(s)?
ya. I've got a horrible potty mouth

What is your current annoyance?
do not get me started.

Last time you saw fireworks, with who & where?
Driving home from my parents 4th of July party with my brother in my car. Enough info?

Are you afraid of roller coasters?
Yes. They don't make them safe enough for people of my itty-bitty ness.

Who pissed you off yesterday?
do not get me started.

What are you supposed to be doing right now?
This is MY time. I'm supposed to do WTF I want.

Are you slowly drifting away from someone?
perhaps

When was the last time you felt unbearably guilty?
Weekly, Daily, Hourly......I'm a Mother. It comes with the territory.

Are you bored?
no. I'm vegging. I want to blog, but I have nothing hopeful or helpful to write about so I'm keeping my trap shut. Or not, since I'm doing this survey...but whatev's. (My oldest Turkey said that today to her brother. LMAO!)

The last person you talked to on MSN?
Just got MSN the other day to talk to Er-nin, my sister from another Mr.

Have you ever kissed anyone who's name started with an a?
Yep.

What do you currently hear right now?
JuJu snoring, and Beyonce singing "Naughty Girl" (itunes on shuffle, mkay?)

How old do you think you will be when you kick the bucket?
9 Million Years Old.

Would you rather watch football or baseball?
I'd rather be footballed in the face with a baseball.

Where is your number best friend?
Sierra Vista, AZ

Three things you did today?
made my bed
danced with Mickey Mouse through my House of Mouse
forced the Turkeys to take their Gatorade's and butts outside so I could sit in the garage and smoke a ciggy in peace.

Did anyone see you kiss the last person you kissed?
Maybe. All 3 Turkeys were in the room when the smallest one cornered me and smothered me with her sloppy kisses.

Have you ever kissed in the rain?
Yes. It's not as romantic as it looks

Have you ever fallen asleep in someones arms?
Maybe. But I can't sleep touching someone, so maybe not.

What are you doing tonight?
not a heck of a lot if this is any indication

Do you know someone whos pregnant?
My Jen-nay. And, she better STAY pregnant for at least 5 more weeks dadgummit!

Do you still talk to the person you last kissed?
whats your obsession with the last person I kissed? It's my baby. My little 2 year old punkin face baby. Can I NOT kiss her without you planting stories in the press and having the papparrazi stake out my home with video's and flashbulbs? Wha? Huh? No-one's staking out my house taking pictures of me? I'm not famous? That is quite unfortunate, as I've totally invited ALL my friends to the awards ceremony when I win my Emmy. Shit.

Does anyone hate you?
A certain X just may. He just may.

Last place you hugged someone?
Alec's bedroom when I hugged him good-night. He doesn't like kisses anymore. Wipes 'em off. Makes me sad, so we just fore-go the whole experience.

Do you know anyone named Matt?
Sho' 'Nuff. He gave me away at my wedding. Fucker. What the hell were you thinking??? It was your job to yank my a$$ out of that hideous "church". Wanna pay for the divorce?

When was the last time you talked to one of your siblings?
Few days ago.

Is your hair curly or straight?
Straight

Who was the last person you took a picture with?
My kids maybe....don't know. There were lots of cameras at my Mom's party. (Not mine though. Thanks Travis.)

Do you have a best friend?
A few. Luckily.

Do you remember what you were like a year ago?
Yes. It was a sad state of affairs.

Do you use smiley faces on the computer too much?
Whats your definition of too much? :-) ;-) :-p :D

Who did you last go out to eat with?
Marc and my chit-lins

Do you wear glasses?
I'm supposed to. But that Bratty Baby Turkey keeps breaking them. Gonna hafta beat her one of these days.

Is the sun shining?
Somewhere...

What jewelry are you currently wearing?
a necklace my old neighbor and dear friend made for me

What were you doing at 10pm Friday night?
I think I was sleeping? Maybe? I don't know. That was almost a week ago dangit.

Where was your honeymoon?
Hahahhahaha! My husband was on mid-tour leave from Iraq. At the time I told myself that he deserved to spend that time hanging with his friends even if it meant I didn't really get a honeymoon. Now, I realize it was just another excuse for him to party. Just like our wedding was. A$$hole was drinking a beer before I even made it to the reception. No, there was no "Entrance of the Couple" or whatever. Ugh. Bad question.

Have you ever broken someone's heart?
Yes. It sucked.

Do you have any weird inside jokes?
I'm a weird inside person.....so yep.'

Do you find piercings attractive in the opposite sex?
not necessarily

Could you go the rest of your life without electricity.
No internet? Kill me now.

Name something you dislike about the day you're having?
Um. Let's not go there. Not blogging because I can't think of positive rays to send out...remember?

Is there anybody you're really disappointed in right now?
Yep.

Do you miss someone?
Dearly

Do you watch a lot of TV?
not at all. When I get uber bored, I watch my shows online

What was the last reason you went to the doctor for?
to tell her I wasn't taking any more of their "crazy pills".....they didn't advise me to stop. But they were the same bastards who advised me to start being a zombie with a pretty complexion. Dusty, dirty, cobwebby time of life. Thank God it's over.

Do you think you will be in a relationship 3 months from now?
Goodness, no!

Have you ever wanted something you couldn't have?
Haven't we all?

(The picture is of my middle Turkey. My only boy Turkey. He's the one that makes my heart beam rainbow's out my a$$. See why?)

The Swing of It

I'm trying to get back into the swing of the whole "blogging" thing, and have been hitting a brick wall for days. Do I have anything interesting to write about anymore? I've read through so many blogs trying to answer that for myself, and you know what? I really don't have an answer. What may be boring & mundane to me, could be someone else's idea of tranquility.
So, I guess...for my first post in forever (and my first ever public post), and what I plan on being a (at least) daily blog I'll just ramble on about myself for a bit & see if anyone gets bored enough to bash their head into their keyboard before I finish. (btw...if this is you, please come back. there will be drama. I promise. Drama is like coffee...like chocolate...like, well...I can't live without it)

I'm a newly single Mama Duck to 3 Turkeys. Yep, I know Turkeys & Ducks are different. Wanna makes sumthin of it? As a matter of fact, one of my Turkeys is actually a dog. The other is a rabbit. Another is a dragon. Yep. Factor that in before you go all hoity toity Species Scientist on me.

My oldest Turkey (the Rabbit) is 9. I say this to myself several times a day because I'm still getting used to it. She sometimes looks at me funny because I stare at her and mutter, "nine. holy batman, Robin. She's Effin NINE"
My middle Turkey (the Dragon) is my only boy. He makes my heart beam rainbows out my ass. Ya, he's that friggin cute.
My baby Turkey (the Dog) is two. And, if you give me any hell for still calling her my baby. I will send you a burning bunny in the mail. Give you and the postman something to whisper about!

I'm newly single because I finally stopped taking enough prescription medications to kill a horse, and realized that I was unhappy with my marriage. Not my life. Not ME. Not anything other than him. He was (is) a Seargent in the US Army. Don't get all mushy now. Your on MY side....remember? Hello?? Hello? Um, is anybody there? Hello?
Someday, I might go into gory details. Right now, I don't wanna. OK? I just don't feel like it. And, at therapy rates THIS high, I don't think I have to. Uh, wait...this isn't therapy? It's free? Well, you still can't make me. Unless you offer me coffee. Or chocolate. Yep.
For now, lets just say that he hates me & I hate him. Yes, we have a child together and yes, she'll be affected by this...but for now, she's a lot less affected than when her Mama sat around like a zombie & cried for days on end without rhyme or reason.

So, thats it. I'm a single Mom to 3 Turkeys (dog, rabbit, dragon). Oh...and I have a cat named Tiger-Jac, a dog named Simon, and another dog (that isn't really mine, but I can't get rid of him cause he loves me too effin much) named JR.
We used to live in the Rocky Mountains, but have relocated to Humid DF-Dub as Mama has to work cause Turkeys don't support themselves!
More on that later.