Thursday, September 23, 2010


So I was kind of thrown in to motherhood. I don't regret it at ALL, but there are times when I go, oh my gosh...I'm a mom. I assume this is true for mothers who have given birth as well.

There are times when I get accused of being less than a real mom because I didn't carry my daughter. For example, the woman who told me I loved Bug in my own way. What way is that?

There are times when I sometimes go, oh my GOD, what did I get myself into? Like when my friends are going out and I can't because I have a daughter now and no one to watch her.

And yes, there are even times when I sometimes catch myself thinking of what I could be doing if I HADN'T jumped in head first. These moments are usually fleeting, and I realize that nothing could be more wonderful than Bug in my life.

And then. There are moments when I just feel so utterly unprepared for this! HOW can I be a mother? I don't know what I'm doing! Who would allow this?

Like, for example, when I am sitting downstairs uploading pictures of Bug's birthday for family to see, and I hear her moving upstairs. At 10.30 pm. All prepared for a fight, I march upstairs to tell her to get her butt right back in bed, when halfway up the stairs I realize she's crying. Now I start running. WHY is my baby crying at 10.30 at night? I get there and it seems she's had a nightmare - she heard a monster. Not thinking anything of the smell in the room, or the fact that she is no longer in her pjs, I assure her there are no monsters as I lay her back in bed and sit next to her to keep calming.

But when I sit, it squishes.

Because she actually woke up to throw up all.over.her.bed. and while trying to clean up *(hence the lack of pajamas)*, she heard something outside and the combination of not feeling good and the dark and being upset made her very scared.

What do I do?

She's thrown up a few more times, she's been bathed, I'm on my second load of dirty clothes/sheets/couch covers, and she's now sitting watching a Mary Kate and Ashley movie, sucking on a Grandpa Ricky medicine *(Luden's cough drops. My father has her convinced they fix everything. I'm going with it.)*. She has a cup of water, she says she feels better - despite a few runs to the toilet.

What do I do?
How do I make her feel better?

For now, the Grandpa Ricky medicine, the movie, and the promise of cuddling all night and tomorrow *(because clearly she can't go to school and I can't go to work)* seem to be working.

I'm just not sure it's enough.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

The D Word

And it's not divorce.


I don't know about you, but I get scared and sad just typing it.

I THOUGHT one of the best parts about coming to Hawaii was that B's new battalion didn't deploy that often. I mean, I know it's the Marine Corps, so I know he can go at any time, but seriously, I'd heard both before and after we got here that the battalion just doesn't go that often. Except...a bunch of guys from the new unit are getting ready to leave. Ok, I can handle that, because B is not one of them. And since the unit doesn't go very often, we should be fine.

And then we were going for a walk the other night and out of nowhere *(and I mean that in the sense that we weren't talking about deployment, or the battalion, the war, or even the Marine Corps!)* B says he's already itching to get back over there.


There goes the happy idea of having him home for more than a year. Though, as he points out, as of August, he has, in fact, been home a year, so what's the big deal. Oh honey.

Here's the thing though.

Although my heart drops at the thought of him leaving, and I get upset about him being gone, especially to go to Afghanistan, and I get sick thinking about Bug having to endure a THIRD deployment before her fifth birthday, and nervous about being this far from home and having to do this TOTALLY alone...

My biggest concern is that I am still anxious about night time. Not in an, 'Oh baby, I can't sleep with out you,' way, but an 'I heard a noise; go check it out' way. I am still not used to living in the housing situation we are in, and I hear EVERYTHING. I mean, the neighbors pee, I hear it, I wake up, and am convinced someone is in our house. It's bad. When my big bad Marine husband is next to me, that is his job.

It's not one I want to do.

Is it bad that that was seriously my first thought? Is it wrong that that is still my main concern?

CLEARLY I don't want him to go, but I think growing up the way I did, I understand that he has to. I knew that when I married the man, it's pointless to fight and whine. We are a country at war; the Marines will be there. Therefore, my husband will be there. So I TRY to not waste time bothering with that.

I'm not heartless; I was THRILLED with the idea of three whole years with my husband. I guess I should get over that idea, eh?

Although, you know, listening to him right now cursing at Call of Duty *(...I think)*, maybe deployments have their upside. ;)