Us LaMays are way over this deployment.
I feel like having Gripe-Fest 2011, so I'll begin by saying this:
One of the worst things ever is when you're having a bad day and a friend reacts as if you're always upset, or that there's something wrong with you for feeling very human emotions. Very understandable emotions.
People tell me all the time that one of the things that draws them to read this blog is that I'm very happy and optimistic. I'm touched that they feel that because I'm always writing truthfully and honestly. I've never written with the conscious intention to keep things positive; that's just how they naturally come out. I am very happy. I am very optimistic. But, ya know what? It's ok if I don't feel those two particular adjectives constantly. And, right now I'm not feeling them. BUT, it doesn't mean they still don't describe who I am.
And, so, since we're all friends here, I wanted to throw that out there. I also wanted to say that little disclaimer in case someone else is feeling that way. It's ok. We all have moments
OH MY GAH. We're so done. Which is really weird because you think that would have hit us sooner. You'd think that, since the end is in sight, we wouldn't feel like punting a leprechaun. But, we do.
Nope. Sure isn't the case as of late.
I'm sick of many, many things. If the stupid south rains/snows one more time thus leading our dogs to track inordinate amounts of mud throughout the, usually freshly-mopped, floors, I'm going load them into the truck and set them free in the country. If I have to clean up the highchair one more time I'm tossing it into traffic. If I have to grab ball pit balls out from under the TV stand, either of the couches, or the coffee table I'm going to light it on fire.
And, for my big, fat, huge gripe:
If Skype, or FB, or the MWR in Afghanistan keeps me from having a fluid, uninterrupted, nonstop, and any other term describing us being technologically left the f*ck alone, conversation with my husband I'm going to lose my shit completely. Seriously. This is the one thing that keeps my sanity. At this very moment in time, not one thing on this planet is more irritating than sitting here and having a conversation with my husband, only to find out he hasn't heard anything I've said.
Except maybe the potholes these damn dogs won't stop digging in the backyard. It's driving me up the proverbial wall.
Well, I guess the shitty internet connection and the dog-dug holes are tied.
No, wait. They're not but they're neck-in-neck.
Husband is feeling uber effing irritated, too. He wants to be here to see Jake toddling around. He wants to have a great, uninterrupted conversation with his wife. He wants to come home and be part of our daily lives. In person. No more of this live via webcam bullshit.
Jake's even feeling it, too. You can tell (well, I mean, I can tell) that he's not digging the current sitch either. He's not acting any way toward me, but I know his vibes. They're not so happy right now.
& the thing is, there's no one for us to be upset with. There's no real way to personify the Army where we can direct all our hatred. There's no, like, Mr. Army. So, we're always all "doesn't this suck big, fat eggs?!?!?"
How irritating things are right now makes us all consider careers as cage fighters.
Oh yeah, if I have to scrape shit from a diaper one more time, I'm tossing out our economically- and environmentally-friendly cloth diapers and wipes and headed to the nearest disposables-carrying retailer.
I'd love nothing more than to take Jake over to Opryland. Get an indoor facing room (or whatever the f*ck it's called), order room service and eat on the balcony. But, what am I supposed to do with these damn dogs?? When we boarded them back in August for our CA trip, the boarder came up with all these hidden fees and other bullshit that they've never done before and it cost a disgusting amount of money. Oh, for those that don't know, our dogs are not wee; one is about 80 lbs and the other about 65. Plus, not that I'd call myself frugal, but I'm pretty amazeballs with cash, so it's hard for me to justify a weekend at Opryland when I'm trying to make the most out of the extra deployment-pay we're getting, while we're still getting it.
If this ridiculous weather would let up, I've love to head back out to get a good, delicious sweat going and let them endorphins come save the day. Instead, the stupid indoor elliptical is my only other running option. Endorphin-inducing? Sure. But, I want the sun to beat down on me and our jogging stroller. I want to be outside without freezing my tail-feather off. I want to stretch my legs out and pound the pavement hardcore. Indoor workouts are starting to make me a little nutso a la Kathy Bates in Misery.
It's such a difference, this deployment compared to the previous two. Working full time and going to school full time still left me with moments to feel sad and lonely. Now? I've got a toddler running around me and have got very little time to really absorb the situation with which we're dealing, so crying hits me like a sneak attack once in a great while.
And, oh yeah, my phone finally quit on me today. Verizon's coming out with the iphone and, since I'm an existing customer, I got to order it early. Should be here Tuesday. But, I've lost nearly all my numbers and my password keeper on my POS blackberry contains, like, my life, so super happy it died. Wait. Nope. It resurrects itself once in a while.
As much as this hampers the hatred-glow I have going, I feel sooo much better just bitching about everything. As y'all know, this isn't my style, but this feels freakin' good right now. Such a release.
And, I know it's an uber blessing to have nearly gotten through our third deployment. I'm aware that our little fam' is wicked awesome. I know we're all stronger for handling the better part of a year with grace. Yadda, yadda, effing yadda. We're friends, right? I just needed to unload. I don't let myself do this kind of stuff often because I'm all preoccupied with keeping the ol' chin up. But, like I said---I just wanted Gripe Fest 2011. It keeps from going all cabin fever, ya know?
I wonder if any spas have post-deployment specials? Like 347 minute massage and pedicure for a reasonable price?
I miss my hubby!!!
FOXTROT. UNIFORM. CHARLIE. KILO.