Mornings... How I hate you!!

Warning: Profanity is used.... ALOT.

I despise mornings. So much. I'm not a morning person. Like at all, I hate being woken up and I hate when people make noise. So much so that I dream of ways to torture them into silence.

Normally I manage to sleep until around 8 or 9 am, but my lovely husband thought it would be nice to wake me at 6am this morning when he got home from PT. For those of you who don't have a clue about the Military, PT stands for Physical Training aka "Wake up fucking early and go run around and do pushups until you go home and wake your wife up who will glare at you with daggers until you learn how to be quiet." It doesn't help that I have insomnia every night, staying up up until two or three in the morning due to the inability not to sleep.

My kids aren't even afraid of me anymore. At one point, they hated waking me up, so they'd play quietly with their toys until I woke up and now, that doesn't happen. Now they break into the fridge and steal apples (yes, I do know it could be worse) and of course, making a mess with different things in different rooms, on an almost daily basis. And my dog, well, he really doesn't care at all. Apparently barking at EVERYTHING is the highlight of his existence, he really needs a PSVita. Also, my cat likes to jump on me. Today she landed on my stomach and I thought I'd been punched. So as you see, all the forces of nature come together to make sure I can't sleep.

Anyways, I woke up this morning, too fucking early with a fucking headache and too little fucking sleep. And yes, I swear in the morning because I have absolutely ZERO interest in being awake and being nice at 7 fucking o'clock in the fucking morning, Mother-Fucker. And my plan for the day is pretty basic. Clean the house, finish the laundry that was started on Saturday and that I didn't do yesterday because it was Mother's Day, fuckers, and Momma's shouldn't do laundry on their own damn day! And go to Walmart and print out photos both for our personal use and for our family members, because you should always send the old people who can't use a computer that well photos of your kids, so they feel included. It's called being nice! And yes, I see the irony.

I also still have that headache I mentioned earlier even though I've taken something for it. It's sharp and stabbing and makes me want to cut that particular part of my head off, I mean who needs the left half of your head anyways! As you see, I'm not a morning person. I prefer total silence and sleeping until I naturally wake up, something I never did until Steve got home from Afghanistan and I finally got the ability to sleep in. I know, I know, I shouldn't complain about not being able to every day when I get to sometimes, but those "sometimes" just feel too fucking rare that it drives me insane. I'm always tired...

I swear I mainline caffeine, which means that I can't even tolerate people until I put some in my bloodstream, which worries me due to the fact that I want to have a baby. How the hell am I supposed to function pregnant with no pain meds and no caffeine! Pregnancy makes life ten times harder, I think, but I want it so badly, I'm aching.  And I've yet to actually have any yet. And I think my dog is trying to make me crazy... his barking which is every 3-5 seconds, is so repetitive and annoying that I'm considering throwing things at him... (no, I wouldn't hurt him but he's so annoying and he doesn't listen worth a fuck.)

As you see, I have no tolerance for mornings and even less without caffeine. I'm a night owl, which I understand the basic idea of: owls are awake at night, but I hate calling myself an owl. I prefer Penguins, if I have to be a bird. Or wolves, because I like wolves. 


Anyways, last night I tuned into Game of Thrones (read the books and watch the show, the show actually follows the books quite well, unlike most shows based on books) and Army Wives (read the book if you want, it has nothing to do with the show even though they say that the show is based on the book). You should check out Game of Thrones, because it's really good, so good I'm addicted to it and I always watch it with my husband because he loves it too, so it's good for both guys and gals. I should mention this about Army Wives... while yes, it does have some if not alot of reality to it, you shouldn't take it as fact for what my life, or any true Army Wife is like. Also, you shouldn't believe that all Army Wives are fat and lazy and moochers off their husbands and feel like everything is due to them without helping them. The truth is some of us are skinny, busy and don't get credit for most of what we do by anyone but our husbands or fellow Army Wives. So all those assholes who think that can go fuck themselves up the ass with a large, rusted steel pipe. And you are welcome for that visual. 


I should actually make some attempt to move. And get caffeine. I'll be much nicer with Caffeine. And I won't want to cut a bitch as quickly. Oh, if you couldn't tell, I'm from Jersey... 

New friends

Ok, I know I've been super sparatic at updating my blog, but this time I have something awesome to say. I have made a new friend. She's pretty awesome and kind of has a similar life as me. She grew up as a Military brat (Marines, not AF Spec Ops but still badass). Her husband is a Captain in the same course as mine, he was also in the Cav like mine before becoming an officer, like mine. We both want to be apart of a flash mob (which actually got us talking lol) and we have the same similar complaints about Army life while both being super proud and happy to be part of the Army life. To think, I've waited my whole life for someone like her!! haha!

Seriously though, to finally find a friend who can relate to almost everything is pretty fantastic. Don't get me wrong, I love my friends. Meg and Liz are crazy awesome. Megan and I can talk about everything and it doesn't ever get weird (and by everything I mean all that girl stuff and guy stuff and random stuff) and Liz and I talk about so much, but can we relate to everything? No. Can we expect anyone else to relate to who you are as a person? No but having someone come super close is pretty awesome, you have to admit.

Let's call her "Bee". Bee is very cool and very fun it seems. What excites me most is that we'll both be in the FRG together (and we both hate the Virtual one). Our husbands will be in class together and we will finally have a wife in the same unit as ourselves who doesn't give a crap about rank or ... let's call it Officer Wife politics (or as I've affectionately referred to it in the past "Petty Army Wives"). The best part is: we're going to have dinner together next week and meet in person.

See, I added this group on Facebook (or as I call it in my phone and to people in my daily life: Crackbook)  dedicated to the Army Wives here to make friends or at the very least find out what's what about this new post and after saying I wanted to have a playdate (which I did... yesterday, I guess since it's after midnight here) I added a bunch of wives. Anyways, tonight I was watching Greek (go ahead, laugh, I enjoy cheesy things like that), I saw a flash mob in a dance contest and started youtubing and went on Crackbook saying that I wanted to do one. Well, after a couple hours, Bee told me she knew someone who did them and that we should talk. One thing led to another and we started agreeing with pretty much everything the other said about this and that ranging from everything to hating the rank-pulling wives and the wives who belittle brats because we obviously "don't know anything." It was awesome to talk to someone. Then Bee asked me to be her bff saying "I'm going to be cheesy and ask you to be my bff." Of course I said yes, because HELLO, SHE'S AWESOME! And we arranged to have dinner next week, exchanged numbers and plan on doing dinner next week.

I really am excited by this. I mean, it's been so long since I met someone that I can really be friends with. Don't get me wrong, I still love the girls I met at Fort Polk, but I wasn't really close to any of them, even though I wanted to be. But here, I have an opportunity to build a really good friendship, hopefully a lifetime friend, which these days, let's face it, is a pretty rare thing.

So I am happy and I'm excited and I can't wait to have dinner with Bee. I can't wait to find out what this place will hold next.

Shhh... Don't Tell.

My new life

Well. I'm here. And it's been a while since I blogged but so much has been happening that I've either been too busy or too tired to sit down and post something. We got here almost two and a half weeks ago and tomorrow will have had our house two weeks. I got my stuff on a Friday and by the next Friday (last week) I had unpacked everything and managed to make the new place a home. I am enjoying it here so far, although, let's be honest, most of that has to do with the fact that up until today (and even for most of today) I have had my husband with me.

PCSing is hard because of the stress and the not knowing anyone, so today I held a playdate. I met 5 local wives who brought their kids, mostly girls. My kids had a blast playing with the girls (all the girls were 3 to 5 and the only boy was an eleven month old baby, who I enjoyed holding very much). And I got to meet some pretty awesome ladies. I really hope I can see them again and build a solid group of friends here.

I know alot of people move with the military and end up leaving half their stuff in boxes for weeks, even months, but I can't do that. I literally started unpacking the day my stuff arrived and by the end of the following week, I'd finished everything from unpacking to putting things away the way I like them to hanging up all the pictures and art that I enjoy seeing. I have a need to have my life put back together each time. I've moved so often in my life that having chaos is not something I can handle when enough things are uncertain. The only thing that was lost: my wii. Yep, the movers stole that. Or rather, they claimed they lost it... but I don't believe that.

In other news, I am not pregnant. I found out today that after another month of trying that my hope of having a baby inside me has to wait still. It's so hard wanting something so badly and not being able to have it yet. Steve says he'll go and get checked to see if he's the problem and if it'll help us to do anything different. I just so badly want our baby and I'm ready for our baby... Anyways, it's just another month of trying. I can handle that.

Other than that, the kids are both happy. They have a playroom here and love it. In fact, I'll upload some pictures of our house at the end of this post. It's a really nice house. Also, Beau and Luna are doing good too. Luna is in heat so that's annoying but she's been inside since she got here because I knew it would happen soon.

Anyways, I'm getting ready to put dinner together and relax. Shhh... Don't Tell.

Don't wear his rank

I love my husband. When I met him, I remember thinking "I can't fall for this guy. He might be perfect but he's an officer and he's about to deploy in a few months." You see, I'm an enlisted man's daughter, who grew up with rank segregation. I knew that officers were uptight and high strung. I knew that as someone who had grown up enlisted that I would always have a problem with that attitude.

Already I had a wife of a 1LT give me the officer's wife rundown. I was shocked and appauled considering how I don't only care about my husband's career enough to have a public face around his co-workers and superiors but I care enough not do have fun the way I used to, before I became his wife. I never want to be the officer's wife who has a stick up her butt, who acts like her husband is better than everyone else, who thinks she's better than other wives because of her husband's rank. Because she's not. He's not. I respect everyone but I know for a fact that no one, no matter the rank, is any better than anyone else.

I am a TSgt's daughter, first and foremost. I have enlisted friends, I have enlisted brothers. I married an officer but it wasn't because of his rank or even that he was in the Army (although, for me, it was a plus). I love my husband for the man he is, the fact that he's an officer, well, it almost turned me off to who he is completely because I've only ever met a few officers before him that I liked enough to even be friends with, and never met one I wanted to be with in a romantic sense. He changed my mind about that. Partially because when he told me he was enlisted first, I thought well, he's got to be smarter than the normal officer. And it turned out he was smarter, funnier, more down to earth.

We don't like hanging out with other officers. My friends here are enlisted and although, we do know a few nice and good officers, we aren't very social with them. We like to stick around the house, hanging as a family, keeping our complaints about this and that to ourselves.

When I got the officer wife rundown, I came home and told my husband. He works with hers (they shall both remain nameless because I'm not out to start drama) and he told me it doesn't matter because what she said wasn't true. I do what I'm responsible for, showing up at functions and being part of the FRG, helping the other wives, being nice and realizing that I do represent him. So I'm a little bit more honest and blunt than most, so I'm a little more wild and free naturally. So I dye my hair bright red and wear jeans and cowboy boots with tshirts, so I am an artist and not a normal "officer's wife" that's ok with me. And, even more importantly, that's ok with my husband.

He married me knowing just about everything about me. My flaws and faults and what I could bring into our relationship. He knew that I would be a good mother with enough history to know what I was responsible for as his wife. He knew I could cook and he knew I could make him look good at certain times. I do things for him because I love him. I represent him at different functions because that's what I'm supposed to do. And he knew the rest, the fact that I swear more than most girls, the fact that I'm more comfortable with a firearm in my hands in the woods than I am with a bunch of ladies discussing how to decorate an Army function. He knows who I am absolutely and I don't hide that from him.

So having another wife, especially one that has less history than I do, tell me that I'm not representing him properly, when my husband has never once complained or even let on that he was unhappy with how I behaved or acted in front of his co-workers and superiors, lets me know that she spoke out of line and she judged me based on my hair, my clothes and my 'don't-give-a-damn-what-you-think' way that I walk and talk. I don't give a damn but when it comes to my husband, I do. I'm a damn good wife and a damn good mother. I can make it through the rough patches that a Military life undoubtedly has in store and I've been through the absolute worse as a daughter. I dress up nice, put a sweet smile on my face, and can hold a conversation with the Lt. Col. of our unit and then have a nice chat with one of the lower enlisted soldiers at the same time.

It doesn't really matter about rank, what matters to me is the person wearing the rank or the person who stands beside him/her. If someone is a Lt. Col and an asshole, I'm not going to talk to him/her much, but if his wife is sweet, doesn't wear his rank, acts like a proper Army wife and carries herself with dignity, then I will like her. If a Sgt's wife wears his rank and acts superior to those who are below her husband and their wives/husbands, well I'm going to dislike her. That's just the way it is.

The wife who gave me the rundown will probably never read this blog, because we aren't friends, but if she were to ever run across it. I would love to tell her that she's in the wrong and that her wearing his rank, acting like she earned it... well, she's acting far too superior for her own and her husband's good. I may not do anything to harm her family by complaining to my husband, but I'm sure I'm not the first wife she's talked to, which means I won't be the last. One day, she's eventually going to start something with someone else, who won't be as good about letting go.

To other wives who read this, and even the girlfriends, please know, that your husband or boyfriend's rank is his. You didn't earn it and you don't deserve to wear it or act like it's yours. You may have stood beside him and given him unconditional love and supported him and made sacrifices for him, but you agreed to that and you also agreed to help his career any way you could. And wearing his rank, well, to be honest, I've seen it hurt relationships and his career. You don't want to be that wife.

Anyways, I was just thinking about that today and I thought I'd share my thoughts on the matter.

Shhh... Don't Tell.