Working on a Game Plan

NTC. Ugh. An acronym to be dreaded. The boys leave for an entire month of training in the desert while the women stay behind to fend for themselves. When Habibi first told me about it, I said "No problem!" After all, we'd spent a year apart when he trained in the Navy, and six months apart when he went to WTC and then AIT with the Army. 30 days? Pssssssshhhhh.


Well, at least that's what I thought. What I didn't consider was that both of the previous times, I was still in my home-state, surrounded by home-friends, family and home-food. He may have been gone for a long time, but I wasn't alone. This time it was only 30 days, but in a new place, by myself, with a crazy 5 year old. Cabin fever caught up with me pretty quick and within days I thought I would die without adult conversation. Of course now I know where I went wrong; I had no game plan.

EVERY WIFE needs a game plan and I'm glad I realized this before deployment. When you're back home surrounded by familiarity- well... you don't really have to have a game plan. You can pretty much go with the regular, every day flow. But when you're in a new place where you don't know many people and don't get out much (and you're facing insanity), it's probably a good idea.


Instead, I spent the entire four weeks writing letters, paying bills, budgeting money, making grocery lists, stressing about Habibi being gone and things I'd have to take care of by myself and more things once he got back... and, well, that was pretty much ALL I did. I felt like I was surviving instead of just living. It wasn't a healthy mode to be in. I think if we didn't have Easter the the Kiddo's 5th birthday, I'd have probably lived in my bed (or couch, really... For some odd reason I couldn't stand sleeping in our bed the whole time he was gone. Never done that before and felt weird about it. Even stranger, the Kiddo- who still cosleeps with us a majority of the time- didn't want to sleep with me at all the entire time, either.)

The most eventful it got, really, was Easter weekend. First we got huge Easter Bunny care packages from my Mom and Grannie, which the Kiddo tore through immediately (it looked like a serial killer broke into the house and murdered the Easter Bunny all over my livingroom) then we packed a small suitcase and spent the weekend at his best friend's house, complete with friends coming over, egg dying, baskets from us (the Moms), a good old-fashioned egg hunt and ending with waking up to bunny baskets on Easter morning.


That following Tuesday, the Kiddo turned 5. After sending out a note to everyone on my facebook in March about not having his Daddy around for the big day, birthday cards began pouring in throughout the entire month from everyone all over. We collected them and pinned them to the giant blank wall in our livingroom (nicknamed "The Birthday Wall").

I let him open presents (sent by family members) and we walked down to his favourite place to eat- Chilis- using a gift card sent by a friend in one of the birthday cards. It was less than awesome compared to our usual birthday routines in the past, though Chuug was very happy and content with how things went down. Bless him, because had he been a ten year old he'd have probably kvetched and whined about the whole do-nothingness.


Now I look back on those four weeks and think UGH! There was SO MUCH MORE I could have done! Not just for the Kiddo's birthday, but in general. I could have made myself promise to run on my elliptical for at least 30 minutes a day, every single day Habibi was gone. I could have opened that ginormous latch-hook kit I bought last year and finally did it. I could have done a "picture-a-day-while-you-were-away" album on facebook. I could have practiced new recipes to make for when he came home. I could have de-cluttered our big utility closet. I could have made paintings or worked on sketching up new tattoo ideas to get someday. Hell, I could have taught myself how to play Habibi's guitar! Hundreds of opportunities just flew out the window in those four weeks- all because I didn't make a game plan. I was too busy focusing on things like remembering the bills, waiting for the mailman, waiting on the maintenance man, dealing with insomnia, figuring out which groceries to get and how much to spend, would I be able to fill Chuug's Easter basket... Sure, those are all important things. But they were ALL I thought about and ALL I did. 

It didn't really hit me til Habibi came home and asked me what we did while he was away. He said "Wow. I thought you would have done more than that!" Over the next couple of days he would laugh and say "You could have done that while I was gone. You could have tried this while I was gone." Ugh. Irritating... but he was so right. I felt ashamed. I'd always considered myself a pretty independent person, but that whole time it felt like I was at a total loss while he was gone. It's not an awesome feeling at all.


Anyway, so now I've begun working on a "Game Plan" for when Habibi deploys. Things I ought to do/try/make/buy and goals to set for myself. Ways to keep me busy and hopefully less stressed and/or depressed. I've got a pretty good amount of things so far! I just keep thinking... Thirty days without a Game Plan was hell. I couldn't imagine 12-15 months without one. 

Becoming a "Mature Adult" about Infertility

Four years ago today... was a very happy day. The idea of having another baby made us so happy and excited. I spent days, weeks, hell- months imagining and planning and dreaming of our little family growing. That day, Habibi bought me a baby book and I picked out an outfit and baby blanket, which we tucked away in my hope chest, ready for our new addition.

Three years ago today... was a very disheartening and discouraging day. After an entire year of unsuccessful attempts at conceiving our second child, I hoped that moving on to specialists would be what we needed. But at the same time I was slowly becoming pessimistic at our chances after passing the one-year mark.

Two years ago today... was a very depressing day. Another unsuccessful year, despite the help of specialists and fertility medications. I was left with empty arms and a womb full of cysts. I spent the day in tears, feeling sorry for myself and angry at the world.

One year ago today... was a sad day. Our lives had seemingly hit the bottom; physically, mentally and emotionally. Over the year it had become almost painful to talk about fertility and babies. I spent the day sleeping, almost pretending to be sick just to be left alone. I was too sad to talk, too tired to think and too exhausted to cry. I spent the whole day just laying there, mourning the family we still did not have.

Today... is just another day. Just another day I mark down on our big dry-erase calendar. When I went to cross the day off the calendar, I took a long pause and let it sink in. My moment of silence to mourn. I thought of the child we're tried so long for, who has not come. I thought about our son, who has been asking for a sibling that we have not given. I thought about the days we spent with him as a baby over these last years; about how our experiences we had with him will likely not be repeated. I thought about the days that my husband and I spent talking about our big family we wanted and the plans we had.

And then I took a few deep breaths, took a bath, drank my tea and went about my day.

I admit that I took pause a few times today to think about it. It's too hard to let something that's been such a big part of your life and your dreams go- and not think about it on this day. But despite that, I maintained my feelings of calm, acceptance and hope.

I feel like I've suddenly grown up and become a "mature adult" about my infertility.

I wish I had felt this way all the years before.

I'll Be Home for the Holidays?

Oh, winter holidays. You have always been my most favourite time of the year with your cold bundle-up weather, catchy holiday tunes, piping hot drinks and colourful decorations... The happiness and cheer is always so contagious, like an airborne drug. I never understood how someone could be depressed during these times. But oh man... This year stress actually gave the holiday cheer a run for it's money.


I never could understand those wives who would say "We're not going home for Christmas." in my online groups and forums. Who wouldn't want to go home for the holidays? ANY excuse to go home seemed good to me. But, of course, we were a Navy Family, at the time, who had the good luck to be stationed in our own hometown. I was already home for the holidays, not stationed out thousands of miles from home like the rest of the wives and their families, having to watch their budgets and try to plan around others' schedules.


This would have been our first Christmas away from home- however, with a deployment scheduled for the next year, Habibi felt that it would be best if we made the drive back to New Orleans to spend what would be his last Christmas before deployment with our families. I was excited, he was excited, the kiddo was excited- yay, we're going home!


But as much as I loved being home and seeing everyone, when I look back on it now that we're back in EP, I just keep thinking about how stressful it was. It was stressful getting out there- driving the whole 1,150 miles again (oh, the toll it took on our wallet with gas prices...), it was a bit stressful being there and having to work around everyone's schedules and share time (we couldn't even manage to see everyone, which was upsetting), it was stressful driving back home with a heavy, loaded down vehicle (and gas prices again) and now it's just stressful being back home and having to rearrange our bills because we went over our budget. Stress, stress, stress!


Now I just keep thinking about how we could have just saved hundreds of dollars, stayed here and celebrated our own intimate Christimas, just our little family, alone together in our very first home away from home for the very first time.


Maybe that seems selfish, but I'm a pretty logical person- and moving away from home in mid-October, going back home in December and then going home again for Pre-Deployment leave sometime this coming summer just seems a little excessive... Doesn't it? I mean, if we were millionaires then sure. But on the paycheck of a lower enlisted soldier with a family?


I think now I understand the wives who used to post about staying home for the holidays.


I haven't quite decided what the kiddo and I will do next winter when Habibi is deployed. Maybe we'll stay back here, maybe we'll take the shorter trip over to San Diego to visit my father (since it was technically supposed to be his Christmas with us this time) and just save money to be able to make a future trip back to New Orleans when Habibi returns home instead. Or maybe we will just give in and go back next Christmas anyway, since we'll be alone. There are so many factors to be considered and multiple choices.


I'm curious, now, to know what other's policies are on going home for the holidays.

Love, Marriage and Overcoming

Habibi and I

Habibi and I have been married for five long years today!

YAAAAAY!

Thank you, thank you!

So, I wanted to type this blog because of a conversation I just had this morning with a fellow Army Wife via Facebook about our marriage, about how things played out and about how it contributes to our marriage today. It seemed to give her some comfort and peace about her own marriage, which was fairly similar to our own.

The story of our marriage sounds like something out of a Shakespearian play (without the dying); boy meets girl, boy asks girl to marry him, boy and girl plan the perfect wedding, boy leaves for the military with the promise to marry girl upon his return... then military tells boy he cannot marry girl without their counseling and approval. So one day before boy has to return to training from holiday leave, he and girl decide to bury their wedding plans and elope. Boy returns to training happily married- eh, gets into a little trouble... but in the end, their love conquers all.

My old bouquet in a shoebox

I feel sad sometimes, looking back on how our married ended up happening. There were many things I didn't care to even bother with in my life; a sweet sixteen, senior prom, high school graduation... but I really, truly in my heart, looked forward to and dreamed about my wedding day. The reality is that most military wives' marriages begin with an elopement. Honestly, this bothers me. I mean, if that's how you wanted it to be then of course! You're doing it the way you wanted it! But to give up such a huge childhood dream that almost every little girl has at some point or other just seems so... well... unfair. And then there's that one person who wants to make you feel better about it by telling you "Well, you guys can just save up to have a renewal wedding!" Sure! That works. We can do that! 

When I, myself, was given that advice, I forgot all about the fact that I'd just been married in a small 8x8 office on the third floor of our city's courthouse without any of our friends and only a few immediate family members to witness it and nothing more than a rose bouquet my mother picked up from the floral shop on the corner and a couple of fuzzy, yellow-tinted indoor snapshots... and looked forward to the day we could celebrate our love and life with everyone. But it's been five years and, very much like the Adventure Savings the old man and his wife began collecting in the movie "UP", any money we ever managed to save for such a day has been drained by emergency after emergency.

While I still daydream about what our wedding would have been like- and some days I just feel absolutely upset and cheated over it, over time I've begun to look at it from a different view- my "Shakespearian-Minus-The-Death" view explained above- which makes me appreciate our marriage and our life together so much more. Our story began with overcoming- not letting the circumstances we found ourselves in pull us apart- and it makes me believe that no matter what, we always have the power to continue to overcome. When the world seems hopeless and reality is beating at our door, I can remind myself of what we've overcome over these last five years since that first day in the courthouse and know that it's just another obstacle to push through together, which is the absolute best philosophy to have adopted as a military wife- considering our daily stresses. We may not have had our dream wedding, but that day means so much in our marriage.

Sending out plenty of good luck, understanding, communication and love dust to the rest of you Military Wives out there!

We're currently home in New Orleans for our holiday leave, which means Habibi's parents are taking the kiddo and I'm about to get up and go get ready to go out to dinner at one of our favourite little hole-in-the-wall places (plus Smoothie King for dessert! Yes, I'm a woman of simple taste.) and then spend the rest of the night snuggling my husband. <3

Something To Be Thankful For...

Here's a little something you guys don't know about me: I've actually got roots here in West Texas!

Not El Paso, specifically... but about four hours from here, in Midland/Odessa, resides most of my paternal family; my Grandad, my Great Aunts, my Cousins... and especially my Great Grandparents whom, before Thanksgiving, had never met my husband or my son- their Great Great Grandson- before.

I'm not a great cook (another fun tidbit about me), so the thought of Thanksgiving 1,150 miles away from home and the family members who usually cook scares the living bejeezus out of me. So, when National Turkey Day started looming ahead of us on the calendar, I suddenly got the idea to send an e-mail to my Great Aunt asking her if the family had any plans for Thanksgiving. And what luck! My Great Grandmother was going to be hosting a simple Thanksgiving at her house with my family.

So we packed a little bag and drove out to Odessa for Thanksgiving. It was the first time I'd seen them in ten years and the first time they met my little family.

I'd been planning that moment since 2005, when we found out we were pregnant... and a part of me was always afraid that that day would never happen. I'm so thankful that it did.

Four out of five generations ain't bad.
Chuug, Myself, Grandad and Great Grandad.
My Father no longer resides in Texas and was unable to make it.

The [Home]Schooling Situation

So one of the biggest issues we've had since finding out we'd be stationed at Bliss was figuring out the schooling situation for the kiddo. Unfortunately, Google seemed to be as helpful as a blank sheet of paper when it came to looking up information on Fort Bliss, El Paso and the included Schools and their Systems. I joined Bliss Wife groups, looked for wives with children my age and asked questions... but every answer I got seemed to put down the schools and promote private teaching or homeschooling. Even the Fort Bliss website had links for a Homeschooling Co-Op that had been started by parents who were just not comfortable with their children being in the public schools. It had me pretty worried. If they'd done that much, that definitely didn't say much about the schools.

(Now we're going to backtrack some...)

I didn't handle the classroom atmosphere so well as a kid, but our homelife prevented us from being able to utilize homeschooling. I did so much better with hands-on lessons and broken down analogical examples and stories. I learned things easier from experience, not from sitting behind a desk listening to someone talk. I'm serious when I say that my brain just literally refused to accept verbal and written teachings. My logic told me that because of this, my children could possibly, and likely, be the same way. So far, it's proving to be true with Chuug as well.

Back home, at Habibi's family's insistence, I enrolled him in a public school for Pre-Kinder. I remember the day we were scheduled to go in for his assessment test- I was not allowed to be with him, but I could hear the teacher asking him questions ("What shape is this?" and "If I have this many, but I take this many, how many are left?") and he answered loud and clear, with hardly any hesitation. I felt so proud of him. Then the teacher left him with the TA and came to sit with me with a folder of papers. When she sat down, she told me his speech and comprehension skills were wonderful for his age, told me he was very funny and had a great personality, and then she asked me "Did he go to a starter school or a daycare before now?" I told her no, he'd been home with me since the day he was born. Her response? "Really? Wow."

At first I was proud- someone was surprised that my child learned so much from his parents. But after several minutes of stewing on it, I felt a little insulted. Why wouldn't he learn so much from us? Right then, in that moment, I knew homeschooling would totally work with our kiddo. I'd brought it up many times before that day and Habibi, being a born and raised mainstreamer, swung back and forth between my belief and others' opinions. In the end he sided with everyone else and felt that it'd be better for him socially.

After two months in the school, the only issues he seemed to be having were attention. ADD and ADHD were brought up constantly by everyone. FYI, I hate, hate, hate "ADD" and "ADHD". I don't know why, but it just leaves an awful taste in my mouth and a horrible ringing in my ears. Children are children. They are a mirror of their surroundings, their examples, their lifestyles. It can be a bad thing, but it can also be a totally normal, good thing. To me, it just sounded like people were pissing and moaning about a four year old being hyper. If you're like me, that last sentence probably made you say "DUH!" (Just my opinion!) ANYWAY... In the third month was when we pulled the kiddo out, packed up and headed to Bliss.

So here we are. For the last couple of months I have been researching schools in the El Paso area, trying to figure out which would be the best to put the kiddo in. When we first got out here, after speaking with so many Bliss wives who had awful things to say about the schools, we thought maybe we could swing paying for a private school. New Orleans is a pretty expensive city, and back home my Momma pays about $3,600 per year for my brothers' private school. So I figured El Paso, having a lower cost of living, would either be the same or cheaper. BOY was I wrong. $5,600 per year, plus $900 per semester for transportation services for PRE-K and KINDERGARTEN? SERIOUSLY? So much for that... I went back to the drawing board and searched through the public schools again. The ones I called around our area, unfortunately, told me their Pre-K programs had been cut, their transportation had been cut or they had no transportation to begin with. I was completely taken aback.

When Habibi got home, I showed him what I found and told him it really didn't look like we had many good choices... and that really the best choice for us seemed to be homeschooling. Personally, I wasn't worried one bit. Pre-Kinder and Kindergarten, to me, are both simply teaching children basic life skills. It's not that hard! So we drove to the PX, where I'd been told there was an aisle of homeschooling books and supplies, and bought a bunch of workbooks and flash cards. I found some really cool workbooks the kids write in with wet/dry erase markers, so you can wipe it clean and use it again! I also had a dry-erase board for him to practice his writing on.

When we got to the checkout, the cashier smiled at us and said "Who will be teaching him?" Habibi pointed to me and she nodded and said "Very good!" This, of course, made him (hubby) feel better about the decision as well, to see the approval and acceptance from others. The approval has since grown... it's extremely common to find yourself mashed between two homeschooling families in the checkout aisle at the grocery store. I've also learned there are so many groups located all over the city dedicated to socializing homeschooled children- getting group rates for places to have field trips and for ballet and karate... Amazing.

So that's where we're at with the schooling! Chuug stays home with me during the day and we practice writing, letters, numbers, simple math, telling time and sounding out letters and simple words. He's already got writing his first name down... and was so proud of himself he decided to write it all over his bedroom walls and furniture! I wasn't sure whether to be mad or proud. I went with proud, but told him if he wrote it on paper it would be WAY better. =) He's also learning/learned how to sort laundry, how to cook simple meals and he loves washing dishes. (Ladies, start lining up your daughters now! Haha!)

It's amazing to see him comprehend so much, my heart just swells. I'd love to homeschool him for Kindergarten as well, but I'm still looking through public schools. Some days he tells me no, he wants to stay home with me. But there are other days where he says he misses school (the whole two months he was there). I don't want to give up just yet, because I want him to experience both worlds. So in the next year or so, we'll see where this goes.

Being a Mother is Exhausting Sometimes: Part II.

Thankfully, I was able to finish Chuugie's costume in time! He loved it and wore it the entire day. Everywhere we went, people asked him where he got his costume, to which he proudly replied "My Momma made it for me." Ah, exhausting... but rewarding. Women smiled at me and praised me for being "such a good Mommy" while my son danced and paraded around stores in his "people bones" costume.

Later that night, we went Trick or Treating on post and I was surprised to see not a single skeleton on the streets. My son walked among Princesses and Woodys and Buzz Lightyears, even enticing shrieks from the other children because he was so scary. But isn't that the point of Halloween? To be scary? I digress... he was so happy with his costume and had so much fun.


By the end of the night, Habibi asked Chuugie if he liked the costume I'd made him. Of course, he replied YES! I could see the thought bubble over hubby's head. My costume-sewing had won over the costume-buying- and this wasn't the first year, even! But seeing how much the kiddo loved his "People Bones" costume, he gave in. So now, next year, I'll be sewing another costume. =) Being a mother is exhausting sometimes.