I Want Children, Why?

Breath in and out, in and out... that's what I am telling myself as I stand over the top of my empty make-up bag and survey the make-up accessories and pieces all over my Auntie's bathroom. Her four year looks at me and says, "It wasn't me". Honestly I wanted laugh but I was so darn angry... She is one of those children that makes me feel like I am trying to train a hound dog of some kind. You know the type, stubborn beyond reason, extremely dramatic, and is incredibly destructive in a VERY short amount of time. I love her to death but my Aunt, Gram, and myself sped so much energy chasing her down, telling her to pick things up, and repeating ourselves about getting into things that are not hers that I want to scream REALLY loud at the top of my lungs until I'm blue in the face...
I am turning into my mother as far as parenting goes. I'm not even ashamed to admit it. My husband and I both parent very similarly and him being in the military makes for an orderly and obedient child. I was raised where children say "yes, ma'm" the moment they are spoken to, there is no dawdling once told to do something, you do it first and then ask questions, go to the bathroom, etc. If things are out of place in your room, they are thrown away. If you unfolded clothes in your dressar, every drawer was dumped out in your room and you had twenty minutes to refold and organize. If you told a lie, it was five spanks mandatory. If you were disrespectful, it was a spatula on your back side. Grounding meant no television, no friends, no phone calls, no toys, no going anywhere, except to school. And while you were at home, you were cleaning twenty four seven.
This makes for me being a strict parent. I don't do the screaming and bouncy kids. I don't do children that don't listen or that disrespect their parents. I don't people that refuse to spank their kids or make them obey or allow them to scream, even though they claim they are just letting them be kids and have fun. PuhLEASE!! You are a parent first, friend second. Who cares if they despise you as teenagers, most teenagers despise their parents. They will thank you later when they grow up to be civlized and productive members of society that value treating others with respect and know the importance of wrking hard for what they get. enough said!

Contemplation Hurts My Brain

Upon rising this morning, I discovered I did not receive a phone call from my hubby in Iraq as he had hoped to fit in. This is always a disappointment, so I promptly roll out of bed to say good morning to favorite Auntie. I find said Auntie who is about to color her hair, and she asks me to read over a sample of a legal document. This document makes me think about my gram who's health is of course, not too steady. I start to wonder what it must feel like to know the end is so close, to know that 72 years of your life have essentially flown by. I would be scared of course, to realize that everything I am familiar with was about to end, and that I was heading into the unknown. Of course, for those of us who believe, we all know where we are really heading at the end, but does that make saying goodbye to a lifetime of loves and memories any easier? Those of us who are not there discuss and plot ways to help people who are, accept the situation and their fate. Is it possible for us to really grasp what that feeling is like? We have not been there, and we would have to live an entire lifetime to reach the same point. At the same time, in my Gram's case, she has already lost the love of her life when he was called to his true home, and has been virtually miserable and depressed ever since. There are moments of laughter, but as the end nears, they grow fewer and farther between. Most young people would simply say, "how sad". I on the other hand immediately think about my husband. Having found the one person who holds all my love and half my heart and will until the day I die, I suddenly grow fearful. What must that feel like? To have the only person in the world who essentially is your other half, and then be forced to say goodbye. I cannot fathom, and it makes my chest grow tight and my breath shorten and my eyes burn. I cannot even begin to comprehend the pain of losing my husband, and thinking about it seems to send me into a dark hole. Putting it out of my mind, I return to thinking of my Gram. She is plagued with the heart ache I so vehemently fear, on a constant basis. Her entire room and most of the house is covered in pictures and mementos. Even when her four year grand daughter asks (as four year olds) do, if she will marry her, Gram gets this look and says, I'm already married.
What do the rest of us say to that. When behavior and attitude turn hostile and angry all the time, even to the four year old who was previously the only person exempt from Gram's anger, what do the rest of us do? There are so many dilemmas I face in my own life, and coming here and seeing this one, and seeing the change in my Gram over just the last four weeks in Fallbrook, I grow evermore worried. Pausing to listen to breathing patterns is not normal. My heart aches for my aunt who has done this and wondered this way and tiptoed like this for so long. Longer than anyone else involved. It's impossible to fully know the things she has put up with. It makes me think about my own mother. I can never picture her this way. I love her too much. My heart achingly goes out to all my Aunties and my Mommy. (yes I call her mommy) The heart does not let go of a lifetime of love without a fight. In Gram's case, I understand the hesitation to let go and the depression at being alone without your soul mate, but if living life is truly that miserable, I would welcome my heavenly Father's arms and house willingly. I would cheer the day I was once again re-united with my spouse. And I would be forever grateful to the family members who made my lonesome moments that much more bearable. It's not supposed to be easy to lose someone, but it is supposed to be a joyful occasion when someone returns to their rightful place with God.
Like I said, contemplation hurts my brain...

Starting a Blog?? Typical American....

I was once told by my mother to keep a junk journal in order to relieve myself of all the bad emotions and thoughts I would keep inside. The problem was, I am incapable of journaling in a consistent manner, or not re-reading the junk once it has been let go. Well a wonderful friend of mine recently wrote me a letter saying she had a blog and after reading it (and laughing myself silly the whole time), I decided that this was perhaps the smartest thing to do at this time. Who gives a crap if anyone actually "follows" it or even reads it, but since I am on Facebook once a day, I might as well make it a habit to get on here and 'blog' when I am on FB. Oh the joy, another silly American girl has joined the ranks of bloggers. The cyber world, the entire world for that matter, can now rejoice. Now begins the story and psycho babble of me: a 21 year old military wife who's husband is currently deployed, and who is currently jumping from family member to family member.
 Bless my Favorite Auntie A, who invited me here to help her with my Gram is who is deteriorating from Kidney Disease. Currently I am in Fallbrook, outside of Marine Base Camp Pendleton, where my Auntie A lives, and eagerly awaits the return of her husband, a Navy Corpsman, deployed with the infamous Boys of the 3/5. Truly... there is a BBC documentary about them. Let's just say that they have seen some crappy stuff, and are rougher and tougher than the best of them. Safe and speedy travels to all of them. Her husband is in Afghanistan and mine Iraq, and once when they both called at the same time to talk to us, it struck me quite funny that we were on the phone with two middle eastern countries at the very same time.
Being from Montana, I am a little bit out of my element here in the constant sun. I came from blow zero temps and snow storms to always sunny and smiling CA. What a wake-up call my pale skin suffered. In Montana I was kind of alone, okay very alone. One can only handle so many inlaws. I had moved away from my Hometown to be with my husband, and left all of my family behind. Shortly after I left, my mother and father moved to FT. Stewart where he is a second LT and just returned from Iraq. Yeah, this family likes 'em in a uniform. Being a Natinoal Guard wife was really not fun. There were absolutely no support groups for my husbands unit in our city, as he is based out of a city that is three and a half hours drive on a good day. The FRG was also located there which left me no options. I was absolutely not going to drive that far for a silly monthly coffee with the other wives and girlfriends. The monthly phone call to check on family morale from the ARNG has not come in two almost three months. So much for happy home, happy soldier. Long story short, inlaws left me in the cold as far as caring about how I was doing, and so at a fragile moment, when my gram's health looked very grim, my Auntie A called and requested my help. Having nothing to tie me to anywhere, I gladly uprooted and literally moved here in three days. I still have an apartment that I will need to fly home and pack and get rid of and a car I will need stored, but it's all worth it. Being where people actually care, and I'm not 100 percent alone is worth it. Being away from my best friend and the other half of my heart is not. I would trade anything to have him home again. The Army truly should follow the Marine Corps lead and drop deployments from one year to seven months. This year is going to be the longest of my life.