Growing Up Me

The pen is mightier than the sword was reconfirmed to me a few months ago. I had been dealing with some frustration with my husband’s drinking and partying since he came home from Iraq. I know he is dealing with things I can not comprehend; but you can not drown them at the bar. Even when you’re hugging the toilet bowl puking up half the liquor store, they will still rear their ugly head. Putting pen to paper as I often do to release my frustrations, I wrote for a while and eventually ended with the following poem.

Forgotten

Who are we but your family?

Always in the background we stand

As days go by, we wait and wait

For the gentleness that once came from your hand

Now are we just a memory

As you are too busy being the band

Nothing will pause your gait

There’s an itch for the pool stick in your hand

How boring is this family?

Who can’t compare with a beer in your hand

Today is now yesterday and it’s too late

To make the call across this great land

Oh how we’re forgotten so easily

Wow we must be bland

For we don’t even spark any hate

Just get brushed off like specks of sand

To my shock and amazement my husband actually read my poem. I think it hit home more than any of my begging, pleading, and crying had. His depression, grief and need for lack of responsibility won out in the end but it actually seemed to improve things for a little while. Just for that little bit, the pen was mightier than the sword.

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A family friend flew in from Washington State to help us with the heavy work of getting settled in at my In-laws.  After nearly two weeks of packing, sorting, and repacking what we did not need, we decided it was time for a break.  He wanted to do some shopping so we hit the mall.

He tends to forget that I am thirtyish and he’s closer to twenty.  He dragged me to every store that caters to young adults.  There is nothing wrong with these stores if you are Olive Oil, have never had children, or weigh in under 100 pounds.  I, being a mommy who likes to eat, am none of these, however, I did eventually find a shirt that I liked and could wear on a clearance rack at American Eagle.  It was bigger than a band-aid at that and only bordered on indecency.  It was totally out of character for me but it was cheap and cool in the Georgia heat. Maybe, I’m not so boring after all.

As it normally does when one talks about another behind their back, what was said eventually gets told to them.  This was how I found out my husband thinks I’m boring.  Me, boring! I think of myself as reasonably intelligent and seem capable of carrying on conversations with all walks of life.  I have even been known to crack a joke every now and then.  I was quite upset since I do not see myself as a boring person.

After being royally pissed off for a few days, I really reflected on myself and my personality.  I like to let my hair down just as much as the next person. I like to go out occasionally without the children and just be with adults. I am not going to go out and party away the money to feed, clothe and shelter my family.  I am not going to ignore my responsibilities to go out and get drunk.  You can not do a lot of partying without a way to go or gas to get there.  Not to mention, the risk of going to jail or taking someone’s life.

I can have fun just about anywhere and be fun to others.  My favorite outings are getting together with family and friends and playing board games or cards.  I have more fun at home with my very interesting kids and games.  If my husband had bothered to pay attention to what he had at home then he would know there is never a dull moment.  If not sacrificing time with my family and their needs makes me boring, then I’d rather be boring.

I told you about my recent hair disaster so I could tell you this one.  Now, my Mother-in-law helped me with my hair and I would never dream that she would purposely mess up my hair.  I’m just the root of all evil in her son’s life while he glides through his days adorned with angel wings and halo.  Okay, all joking aside, I can not be blamed for this one.  This was just a case of bad luck and she did this all on her own.  I guess what goes around comes around even if it was an accident.

She bought the Clairol’s Natural Instincts Golden Honey from the Golden Shimmer collection which is supposed to give you a Dark Golden Blonde.  The directions tell you not to be alarmed if the color is darker than what you want while applying.  The color will be lighter after it is done.  Of course, this looked like a dark auburn but she went with it.

It came out a nice shade of red. The color actually suits her making her look younger and bringing out her brown eyes.  Crisis averted since it looks good, right? Well, it would have been all fine and good except the color did not take on her roots or cover her gray.  It only took on the parts that were previously dyed with the same 9G color from them which was a nice darker blond.

Was this fate giving her payback or the dye following its “Natural Instincts”?  Either way, we have a new motto.  Life isn’t like a box of chocolates; it’s like a box of Clairol. You never know what you are going to get!

After my husband left us, I decided I needed a change.  I didn’t now what but I needed to do something I could control as I watched the rest of my world take a roller coaster ride without me.  When faced with an emotional crisis, women tend to take it out on their hair, at least I do anyway.  I guess because it is the easiest, fastest and cheapest to change at a moments notice.  Yep, you guessed it. I cut and dyed my hair.

The haircut went okay since it was just a straight cut across the back taking off about 6 inches of hair.  It was the color part that got me.  I bought this little kit at Wal-Mart that is dye and highlighter in one box.  It was the Cherry Chocolate Mousse or something like that. I’m still trying to figure out the chocolate mousse part of it. 

You put on the all over Cherry dye first.  True to its word, it was very cherry.  It looked kind of like cherry wood stain was what I had used.  Now a smart person would have stopped there.  But even I am not always the brightest crayon in the box.  I thought this is different and it looked young and chic.  I could deal with this. 

Then you put in the dramatic highlights.  The box should say traumatic instead because my head definitely needed a rescue team of its own.  We followed the directions to the letter but they still did not turn into the beautiful bold blonde highlights that were promised.  It looked like someone had melted pennies and poured them on my hair.  Since it did not take on the whole strip on most of them, I had copper spots all over my head.  Can a leopard change its spots? Nope, but we can sure give an idiot a few!

My marriage has fallen apart. I’m living with my In-laws. My husband lives in another state.  I was left with no job and three kids to take care of.  My kids are hurt. I’m hurt and extremely angry.  I feel that I have every right to be and so does my kids.  Yet, someone tells me to “get over it it’s not like anyone has died.” 

No, no one has died but it sure feels like it.  No, no one has died but a relationship has had an untimely death.  I’m not ready to get over.  Do you ever really get over a death? No, you just learn to accept it and deal with your grief.  You learn how to deal with the hurt. The hurt will eventually lessen but right now it is still raw.  Right now, I’m still grieving for my dead relationship.  I’m still hurt and I’m still angry and I’m not going to just “get over it.”  My kids are not going to just get over it.  Our trust and our faith in other people’s promises have been broken.  

I think I definitely need a vacation. I was trying to work on my blog for today and just could not concentrate. There must have been a marathon running or something because for like three hours straight it was nothing but SpongeBob. I could hear his stupid hideous laugh through the wall and over my radio. It had the same effect as nails on a chalkboard.  Every time I turned around, I would wind up losing my train of thought because of that irritating little square I would like to set on fire.  I told my kids they had to turn the TV because SpongeBob had to go.  I guess another parent felt my frustration because I found this video on YouTube.  I laughed my butt off watching this.  My kids thought I had done went batty.  I was just complaining about SpongeBob and there I was watching videos of him.  There were some other people that were blowing him up and stuff but this one was my favorite since she shared my sentiments exactly.    

I went to college to learn how to work on computers.  I struggled for three years while raising kids and working at least two jobs.  While mentally I can do the work, it is very physically demanding in a lot of aspects of the job.  Due to health issues, I was out of work for nearly two years. I have recently tried to get back into the work force to no avail.  I have four years experience as a network administrator with an expired A+ certification to go with an Associates Degree in Computer Science.

Companies are hiring people with a Bachelors Degree without any experience in the field before they will someone with a lower degree and experience.  That does not make any sense to me.  Book learning will only take you so far.  In the technology field, by the time that you have finished your four year bachelors degree, pretty much everything you have learned is out of date.  The standards have changed and new technology has come out which makes it almost impossible to get a job again once you have been out of the workforce.

I feel like I wasted my time, my money, my scholarship and something even more precious that you cannot get back.  Three years of missing things with my kids while I was trying to be a better provider for them.   I felt like my mind was being wasted because I have learned all these things but can’t put it to use.  Then one morning, I woke up and I realized I hate it.  I hate working on computers, and programming routers and switches.  I hate crawling through dusty spider infested ceilings in ancient buildings probably filled with asbestos to pull cables from one room to the other.  I hate dealing with crabby people with crappy computers that take their anger out on you when you are trying to help them.  It makes me want to smash computers with sledge hammers or throw them off the roof and watch them shatter into bunches of pieces.

Not only do I hate computers that are now a neccessary evil in today’s society but they are going to make me burn in hell.  I realized that I cussed the computer at least four times a day.  My other job makes me really cuss the computer because I work from home as an online researcher.  Like most of America, I have a crappy computer so 90% of my day I am a crabby person.   I find myself cussing the computer which only responds with the flashing of its cursor or just stubbornly refuses to work at all and demands a rest.  If my mind is going to be wasted, why couldn’t it be wasted on some beach.  Just give me a lounger and two pena coladas. I need one for each hand.  Then if my salvation was at stake, I’d at least be a happy soul with a good reason starting with the Cabana boys!

When my two year old learned how to open doors, I bought all these door locks to keep her from getting into the bedrooms.  I mistakenly thought these were good.  My baby proved me wrong.  Within a couple of days, she had figured out the locks for the handles that are long and straight.  She had learned how to pop apart the locks for the round handles by the next week.  Frustrated, I started locking the doors from the inside and locking us out of our rooms. We would use butter knifes to break in when we needed to.  That has not lasted long either.  She learned quickly how to break in herself.  I put a lock on the silverware drawer thinking this would help.  Nope not at all, my daughter got one of her toy spatulas from her toy-box and boldly popped the door open.  She then continued on her merry way, got the bear she wanted off her sister’s bed and came out shutting the door behind her re-locking it.

I can foresee many things in our future.  The arguments from such a willful child, however, she will get far in life because she won’t let many obstacles stop her.  I thought my 10 and 12 year old girls were going to give me the most gray hairs.  This one is really going to be my handful.  Oh, may God give me strength in the coming years for the Teens are coming near for all my dears.

Is the military doing enough to support the soldiers’ mentally?  No, I definitely think not.  My husband was in Iraq for 16 months.  The entire time he was there, he was on a mental decline.  Sometimes he would not talk to us for weeks at a time.  He just did not want to talk to his family.  After he finally gets back state side, he is sent for the little mental evaluation that every soldier has to go through upon getting home.  I don’t know what was said to the counselor, but she runs out of the room and refused to go back. Apparently, it was enough to scare the living day lights out of her.  Well, that should have been their first clue!

For five months, the entire family walked on egg shells never knowing when some mundane statement was going to have him blowing a gasket.  During this time, I tried to get him to get more counseling.  I talked to his Sargents as well.  My concerns were completely brushed off.  Some days he was just fine and on others he hated the world.  On our daughter’s birthday, he decides that he no longer wants a wife and children or the responsibility or anyone waiting for him to come home.  Not even a happy birthday for his two year old.  It’s now been nine months and he still has not gotten help.  He refuses to go and the military will not enforce it even though they know that he needs it.

Some people believe he is just fine. I do not.  I knew my husband before he joined and ever went over seas.  I know what came home to me may look like my husband but it’s not. It is just an empty shell walking around.  A man that loves his wife and family doesn’t decide to not speak to them for over a week, wakes up one morning and throws it all away.  Will they ever end this war and and start trying to put our soldiers lives back to as normal as they possibly can be again?