Ramblings

I'm having a very "poor me" day today....actually it started last night after a fun girls night.

Maybe it was because after watching a chick flick I wished for nothing more than my amazing prince charming to come and sweep me off my feet.

Maybe it was going to a wedding shower and answering all the questions about where Marty is, how long he's been gone, how long he has left, how pregnant I am, how I am managing to not go insane...normally the questions don't bother me, but for some reason last night it really emphasized how hard what I am doing really is.

Maybe it was coming home to a pigsty of a house with no one to lean on or support me.

Maybe it's that I had to curl up in my big bed all alone and try not to think about the empty space next to me.

Maybe it was being woken up multiple times during the night by a child who decided sleep was overrated.

Maybe it's the touch of insomnia I've had this pregnancy making it so I never feel rested.

Maybe it is because Michael Jackson died.

Whatever the reason (however, I doubt it's because of Michael Jackson) I can't seem to snap out of it.

I am CRAVING a vacation, more so than I have been craving nacho cheese Doritos every night for the last two weeks. I just feel the need to get away from the every day same old routine, be away from everything that reminds me of what I am doing without.

The problem is I don't think being alone away from home is going to help.

I feel like my thoughts are very scattered, but today, this is how I feel after my 7 weeks of doing this day in and day out. I'm exhausted, drained, emotional.

The majority of the days I have been able to put on the happy face and go along with life. But I just don't feel like I can muster that up today.

I'm sure tomorrow I will feel fine, and if not, at least I (hopefully) get to talk to Marty on Sunday for a little bit. That's what keeps me going.

Three more weeks of this.

Three more weeks until I get to see my husband again.

Three more weeks of fake it until I make it.

Mommy, wow! I'm a big girl now!

I decided it was time to start looking for flights, a rental car and a hotel for when I head to Oklahoma to see Marty for his boot camp graduation, because you can never plan too far in advance...right?

The thing is I'm in the army now whether I like it or not. And so far I've been told that the motto of the army is "hurry up and wait" so that's what I am doing. Which is apparently what everyone is doing, because I was SHOCKED to find that a couple of the hotels were already booked for those dates! Crazy people planning so far in advance, don't they have anything better to do with their time?

And so I put on my big girl panties, and called my dad for help. I guess that really contradicts itself.

You see, the two times I've been on an airplane 1. I was like 12 or something and obviously did nothing but show up after my dad had made the arrangements. And 2. I went to New York with choir in High School and just handed my money to my teacher and once again just showed up at the airport when I was told to.

So I called my dad and was like, "Hey, dad, you want to help me get a flight to Oklahoma?" I don't think he understood that what I REALLY was saying was, "Hey, dad, can I give you some money and have you make my travel arrangements and tell me where to be and what time?"

I think he's trying to finally cut the apron strings because do you know what he said? "Go to the airline's website and see what they have to offer. Then you could call them to see if their military discount is cheaper or not and book it."

WHAT?!

The nerve of my father trying to push me out the door when I've only been married for 5 years and have two 1/2 kids.

That's probably where I went wrong, I should have called him crying saying I had no idea what I was doing and then wait for HIM to offer to take care of it for me. I'll have to keep that in mind for next time.

I may have had a minor panic attack and was barely able to get out "uh, you mean I just call and tell them the dates I need to fly and ask them what the best rate is?"

Hey, I never said I was an independent person, so stop your judging.

I think at this point my dad was probably a little annoyed that I was just repeating what he had told me and that I sounded so shocked by it. He simply said, "Uh, yes."

So do you know what I did after I was finally able to pull myself together? I got online and found the flight, and then called them and yapped the lady's ear off sounding like an idiot going "So, what does THAT particular fare mean?" And "You mean that THIS fare is cheaper than the military discount? That's crazy!" She was nice, but I felt dumb.

And now I have officially booked my first flight all by myself...well, almost all by myself. Baby steps though.

The rental car and hotel went a little smoother. Although what is with all the foreign people out there working as telephone operators? I mean no offense...but come on, how am I supposed to understand if what you said was "with limited miles" or "unlimited miles"?!?

Now that I can call and make my own travel arrangements, the world is my oyster! Even if I still have to ask my dad step by step how to check in, check my bag, go through security, where I find my plane, what I do with my bags when I have a layover etc. those are just minor details.

I know how to put my credit card information in to the computer to buy a ticket, so that's really the bulk of the plans! Next month a small trip to Oklahoma, next year riding an elephant across the African plains!

Girls night = cha-ching.

A little while ago - out of my desire to do something out of the ordinary, something that didn't include staring at each other, watching hours of mindless television or watching the grass grow - I decided to have a little "girls night" with Brielle and Claire. I talked that night up SO much, we were going to get treats, have pedicures, watch a movie...you know, girl stuff. Because boys hate treats and movies, right?

*

So, we ventured off to the store to gear up for our evening of fun...as I mentioned, we were wanting something out of the ordinary. They would have never expected in a million years to do something fun! But those little happy faces as I let them choose a treat was all the thanks I needed. I just about bagged the rest of the evening as to not over load them with happiness in one night. You know, save a little happy ammo for another night.

*

But apparently little 4 year old people have good memories and so I wasn't getting out of the rest of the plans we had. (By the way, I'm not mean, just funny...try to remember that as you read on).

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At the store Brielle decided she REALLY wanted these Fruit Stickerz (I've been calling them stackers all this time...I feel so foolish). Basically they're little pieces of a fruit roll up in little shapes that you peel from a piece of wax paper. Sticky, processed, sugar filled and NASTY...I don't hold back anything when it comes to making my kids happy.

I completely ignored the "Win CASH" thing at the top because really, am I going to win anything? I don't think an answer to that question really is necessary, however just in case, the answer is a big fat no. Who has ever won anything from a packaged item they bought at the store? You never hear people who made their fortune off their Snickers bar on those "Where are they now, jackpot winners" shows. They're always drunk people who stumbled in to a gas station and bought some lottery ticket and then blow all their money on buying circus monkeys and pretzel bites.

*

I have been burned one too many times before thinking maybe there was a way that THIS would be the time I was going to be the 1 in 9,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999 to win something amazing and I wasn't sure I wanted the heartbreak of that loss again.

*

So imagine my surprise as Brielle was getting her last Stickerz out - a few days later, because what kind of mother would I be if I had let her eat ALL of them in one night? - and said, "Look, mommy, a card for my wallet!"

(I know it's hard to believe by the extremely high quality, but this is an ACTUAL picture of the card on my lap...it's not one I found on google or anything!)

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Holy moly, I was SO excited that after my 25 years of never, ever, ever - no matter how bad I wanted it; and believe me I've wanted it - ever, never, ever winning anything...I won!

*

I couldn't believe it, I was FLOORED to think I was going to have won this great jackpot or something! I couldn't believe there was actually a card inside the box! I read the rules on the side of the box again thinking that maybe there were cards in ALL the boxes and only a few said "winner". But nope...there in the rules it says that if there's a card you're a winner, if you're not a winner, well then obviously you're a loser. There's no gray area here.
*
I tore that card out, ready to figure out how I was to redeem my prize. I could imagine it now, living in Hawaii in a luxury beach front house with a full service staff waiting on my every need.
*
Then I looked more closely at the card. Do you know how much I won?! $5. That is not a typo, nope...apparently the odds of winning THIS particular prize is 1 in 56. I guess I should still feel lucky that I won anything at all, because I could have gotten one of those other 55 boxes and lost. But what am I going to get with a $5 pre-paid Discover card? A couple packs of gum? A new toothbrush? A picture of Hawaii...unframed of course, it is just $5.
*
Oh well, Brielle and Claire are SO excited about it! They probably are still dreaming of Hawaii as well. I guess my little (large) happy dance screaming "I won, I won, I won! I'm rich!!!" might have gotten their hopes up.

*

Poor little dears are going to be very disappointed when all they get out of this great win is the opportunity to sit in the shopping cart while I decide what on earth I'm going to get for $5. Lucky girls!

I just can't break it to them yet though.

Missing Daddy

I keep finding myself at a complete loss as to how to console my children and comfort them when all they want is their daddy.


For the past two nights one, if not both, of the girls have cried for their daddy, rather it was after bath time, during night time routine or even in the middle of the night. Claire had a good solid week of crying for Marty just after he left but has since settled down a little bit.



However, now Brielle - who had been going along all hunky dory, because she's my go with the flow girl - is starting to say a lot more about missing him.



After giving them a bath the other day, I had them in their towels and Brielle started crying for daddy, wanting to know why daddy isn't here to dry her and get her in her pajamas before bed. She just wants daddy to be there to rock her to sleep and sing her a song. It tears my heart out knowing that even though I'm here for them, there is no way I can give them what Marty does.



Claire has now started telling me that everything around her is "my daddy's". From the cars we pass on the road, to the clothes we see at the store. Somehow she thinks of daddy in everything around her. Not that I don't do the same.



Today was the kicker though. After a fun afternoon out playing with our cousins we were on our way home. We drove past a bowling alley and Brielle asked if we could go bowling. I told her not that day. She asked why we went with daddy a while ago and I just casually answered that it was because bowling with daddy is fun. She started crying and said she wanted to go bowling with daddy again. I told her that when we see him, we can most definitely go bowling. She then, with tears in her eyes, said "but we're never going to see daddy again!" I assured her we would but no matter what my answer and explanation was, it was too many days, too long and she wanted him now.



Then at dinner tonight, Brielle was eating quietly and looked at me and said, "I'm ready for daddy to come home now, I want to be a family again." All I could say was, "I know, Brielle, me too."



I don't know what to do for her. I feel terrible that normally I can give her what she needs but in this case, the one thing she wants I cannot provide. The best I can do is play video's of Marty, read her the letters he's written and assure her that he loves her and we will see him soon.



I'm doing my best to keep busy for them and myself, but some days I don't want to do anything. I have a very hard time finding the motivation to just maintain the normal day to day things like dishes, laundry and straightening up because I am emotionally and physically exhausted. I feel like in a way I am failing my children because I really want to keep things moving like they were before Marty left, but that just seems impossible for me at times.



I'm not an independent person, I never have been, I never will be. I have always heavily relied on Marty, not to take care of our house, but I have relied on him emotionally and physically to keep me going. I don't know where to get that push, that energy and motivation from like he always did for me.



For now I'm going to just start working on NOT talking about Marty like he's dead. I keep saying things like, "That WAS Marty's favorite" or "Marty USED to love that". He's not gone forever, this is temporary. He will be the same person when we are back together and we will move on with our lives and look back at all of this as a very minor bump in our road of life.



All in all, I'm actually doing fine - hard to believe after this post. Most days are pretty good but the last couple have been very hard for some reason. I'm not sure if it's because we just got back from a trip and I was overwhelmed with the responsibilities ahead of me as I walked in the door. I'm not sure if it's because my girls seem to be having a harder time the last few days with missing him. I'm not sure if it's just pregnancy hormones. Whatever it is, the last couple days have basically sucked (sorry mom, that's the best word I have to describe it).



So tomorrow I have to just start moving ahead, find the motivation from somewhere inside and just get moving!



In case you were wondering, writing is my way to express my feelings at a certain moment. Please do not mistake my getting my feelings out through writing as a cry for help :)