The more things change…

Welcome to part 1b of our deployment. Since K. is still in the country I’m considering this time as more pre-deployment than not. K.’s communication will be limited over the next few weeks, but that’s not unusual for when he’s at his Annual Training. Better to get used to that now too so when he does go overseas we are not used to talking frequently. As of this morning the kids and I are on our own for the majority of the next year and a little. This phase is only a few weeks and then K. will be home for a few days around Thanksgiving. Three weeks is pretty easy for us and I’m taking it in that smaller sized chunk rather than looking at the whole. The kids are used to 3 week stints without Daddy, and like I said, we have our routine and it’s easy to manage. We explained to R. that K. was still going to be safe in this country for a while and that seemed to ease her mind and her potential for drama. Monkey has an Elmo video given to us by Easter Seals to help explain to him what’s going on. I think he sort of gets it, but I can’t be sure. He retains a whole lot of video, and I can’t tell if he’s really making the connection or just humoring me. Not that he won’t miss K., but he spends the bulk of his time with me, so I’m not sure how long it will take for K.’s absence to effect him. I guess we’ll find out.

Last night was as mundane as it usually was. We had dinner, finished R.’s costume, and then the kids were off to bed. We hung out watching tv like always and then we went to bed. Same shit, different day. Honestly, it was fine by me. I’d rather we keep things normal this time around rather than get caught up in the kind of emotional frenzy of last time. This morning, K. was up early and out the door with very little fanfare. I was groggy and uncomfortable from a bursitis-ridden shoulder and the kids were out cold for the most part, although R. was nice enough to crack open an eye and tell her Daddy she loved him. Monkey whined in disapproval for being disturbed which was at least typical. I felt kind of bad about not getting up with K., but I knew I’d talk to him later during the day for one last time.

So what did I do on this first day on my own? I sucked up the shoulder pain and cleaned the house and did the laundry. It’s “Chore Day” after all. Exciting as ever. Besides, I’ll be damned if I’m going to begin this journey with a hairy house and dirty laundry. It’s easier to keep up the house on my own when I start with it clean. And so it is. I had other things I needed to do today, but I’ll get to them tomorrow. Between me and R. after she got home, we got the majority of the house all cleaned up to include her room which is usually in a state of chaos. Once we were done, it was chocolate chip pancakes for dinner and then we settled in for a movie. R., who has been hording homework passes, decided that today was a good day to use one and I agreed. A little togetherness was what she needed and I was grateful for a quiet night with her and her not quiet enough brother to start all this. They went to bed easily and I had some down time to watch a little tv and decompress. And now I’m in my bedroom—my favorite room—snuggled up with Zoe who beat me to bed. It’s a good end to a not-so-craptactular day, all things considered. I feel pretty good—hopeful that I can keep things normal if today is any indication, and ready to make headway with some of my own goals. While I’m sorry that K. had to leave, I’m relieved that this deployment has finally started.

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Winding down and gearing up

One more day and I’m still trying to remind myself that this deadline isn’t mine to worry about. I keep thinking that I have to have all sorts of things done by Thursday morning, but I’m not the one leaving. Sure, things are going to change for us at home, but I still have time to work into my own schedule (which is really unlikely to be that different from what it is now) and our new (and improved!) routines. I have to remind myself that when I force change too much it never goes as planned. I know better but it doesn’t seem to really stop the inclination to force my square peg into the crescent hole.

Every day I’m reminded that the kid wrangling is all but officially my own to deal with. They had their dentist appointment yesterday and I can say without hesitation that it didn’t go so well. The fatalist in me pointed out every flaw and noted that It Will Happen Again, and my inner Zen monk countered with the sound of one hand clapping which was, frankly, kind of useless if not amusing to think about. The pragmatist reminded me that events are finite and this too would end one way or another. Winner! Monkey is not a fan of doctors to begin with, and there just was not enough prep I could do with him in the couple days before his appointment to make it go smoothly. I could hear him struggling from the waiting room (it’s a pediatric dentist office and they try to have the kids go in alone until the dentist needs to meet with parents) so I went in and tried to deal with that. In the process of keeping Monkey still just so the dentist could count his teeth and get a quick look while Monkey yelled in protest, I missed the important thing going on with R. in the next room. She needs to have a couple of baby molars removed and a spacer put in because they are sinking and fusing with her jaw and causing the other nearby molar to crowd the space where the adult molars should move into. I would have preferred that conversation to restraining a wriggling Golem. Another set of ears would have been handy, but sadly duplicating myself is only the premise of a bad movie.

When it came time to schedule the consults and appointments, I was also figuring in babysitter possibilities and calculating logistics for meeting the bus on time and the chances of having to bring Monkey along and whether or not it would be worth the money to load up my iPod with games for him to play while I try to pay attention to his sister and the oral surgeon, and oh, man, will there be time for a nap? I think that all happened in a half a second, but it gave my brain a cramp nonetheless. Luckily, I remembered I have longer than a half a second to get all these things actually planned out. When this is all over, I could totally get a job in logistics and project management. Unfortunately, I’m probably not going to want it.

But here we are at the end of this particular phase of our lives. K. is done with things around the house, so at least that is a load off his mind. Anything else that crops up I can take care of. He’s been pretty tired after a full day of tying up loose ends at work which is too bad because he’s not really in the right frame of mind to enjoy being home these last couple of days. We’ve been having all of his favorite meals this week and I made his favorite cookies and am updating his iPod with music and audio books to entertain him on all his travels. The last thing we really need to do is work on R.’s assassin costume for Halloween. After that, there’s nothing left for him to do here and he can go with a clear conscience. We are both resigned to his leaving and both ready to get this over with. I suspect we both feel a degree of guilt in looking forward to new experiences without the other to share them with, but at least we’ll have things to talk about later which is better than never having anything to talk about. In any event, it’s time and there’s no avoiding it now.

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Doggone it

I always forget how much the weather affects me and my mood. Yesterday was chilly and rainy and I just did not want to move from the couch or my nice warm blanket. The fire and snuggly dogs didn’t help (or hurt) in keeping me right where I was either. I berated myself all day for not doing more–I picked at some chores around the house, did some cooking, and worked on a job for a little while, but my heart was definitely not in it. I should have just been happy for my warm dry house and some quiet time while I could get it and I need to remember that. Sadly the weather was just part of my general malaise. I am sure some of it had to do with K. leaving soon. No matter how prepared I am, or think I am, the idea of single parenting just makes me tired. It’s just that simple.

Luckily, I have the dogs to thank for rousing me from my doldrums… at 5:30am. Zoe’s Spidey senses alerted her to something and I was under the mistaken impression that perhaps she had eaten one too many apples and was now about to have some intestinal distress that I was not interested in cleaning up after. So, I let her out with CaseyJones in tow. As it turns out, there was a bedraggled orange tabby cat taking shelter under our back deck. And much to Zoe’s chagrin, it bested her in the race to get out from under the deck. We have many stray cats in our neighborhood due to living close to the local animal shelter where they are habitually dumped and then get free only to have no place to go. I realized what had happened and ran out to get my two hooligans back in the house and after sliding through some mud, managed to find the cat and my dogs in a Mexican stand off right near the garden. Somehow Zoe had popped off her electric fence collar which I found not too far away, and I had just enough time to clip it back on her as she let Casey take the lead while she took a quick potty break. I dragged her as far as the porch steps to get her back in the house at that point, but then she managed to sneak out of my grip and high tail it back to the party.

Needless to say, having the dogs barking at this stupid cat who had plenty of room to escape but chose to torment me and the dogs was unacceptable that early on a Sunday morning. However, I was not going to be doing any cajoling and distracting of animals barefoot in my jammies. I was infinitely grateful it wasn’t raining at least. So, I went inside, trying not to wake anyone and probably doing a piss-poor job of it and cleaned off my feet, put on a sweatshirt and my shoes, grabbed some ground beef from the fridge and headed back out. Casey, who likes to slowly assess a situation to find out whether or not the other animal will want to play fetch with him, was the easiest of the two to wrangle back into the house, so I did just that. He has experience with cats, and apart from trying to get them to play–which never works out well–he was not so involved that he couldn’t be drawn away with some meat. One down. Zoe, on the other paw, has absolutely no experience with cats and just wants to chase and wrestle them. That plan never works out well either. What was unfortunate for me, was that she refused to stop barking at the damn cat, and wouldn’t stand still and could not be bothered with burger when there was Something New and Exciting nearby. *sigh*

I tried not to get mad at her because after a couple of years doing dog training, I know this never works. Ever. And I knew that she was not going to let me get close enough again to grab her collar. I tried doing a trail of meat toward the house, but it was of no use. The cat had ensconced itself under Uncle Fungus’ (K’s brother, P., who is also deploying with K.) truck and was not leaving the safety of it. Zoe tried every angle to bark it out. I wished that P. drove something a touch smaller…like Prius that I could hop over and catch my dog. Finally K. took pity on me and came out to help. I was pretty pissed off at the dogs and myself at that point, so while his help was more than welcome, you couldn’t have told by my attitude. Between the two of us, we were able to cut off her paths to the cat and she pretty quickly ran up to the front door to be let in. Oh, she was a smiley puppy when she got in the house. Very proud of herself for shooing that cat from under the deck. Wish I was as proud of myself for my handling of the situation.

What made me most irritated was that I didn’t manage this on my own. I could have left her out there to bark at the damn cat all morning, but I really don’t want to piss off my neighbors. I wondered what I was going to do next time she did something silly and I couldn’t disengage her by myself. It was one of those irritating situations that happens before K. leaves to remind me that he’s leaving. The result is that I’ll be spending some quality time working with the dogs so that they will be a help and not a pain in my butt at 5:30 am on a Sunday. There are worse projects. I do love dog training.

After those shenanigans, I was able to pull myself together for the day and get several things done including matting the finished watercolor I had painted, assessing my financial picture for the next year, tidying the house and cleaning up the screen room, starting some organization of our barn storage, and making my plans for the upcoming week. K. packed up the rest of his things, leaving little gaps where I could usually find him throughout the house. The weather was beautiful and we opened some windows to change the air. By the end of the day I felt much better and far more in control than I had before the sun came up. Plus, I have learned that I will not be trained by the dogs. Again. It’s a good thing they are cute.

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Getting short

The last couple of days has left me a bit word blocked and mentally stagnant. I really should have gone to bed earlier the other night–I think I’m still trying to make up that sleep. Obviously, I’m not in college anymore and near all-nighters should be avoided. Lesson learned…again. Maybe. The result is that I’ve gone from being restless to being brain dead. The weekend is here though and sleep should be more available. This is K’s last weekend at home for a while and I don’t know that we have many plans beyond eating whatever he wants for dinner. We seem to be waffling between keeping it low-key and doing “something.” His packing is pretty much done, so there are just odds and ends to do around here. I go back and forth between wanting to spend time with him and wanting to take advantage of another adult in the house to watch the kids. I’m not terribly good at picking the right option all the time.

R. has a pumpkin carving party/sleepover to go to tomorrow night, and we’ve got to go pick up another pumpkin for her to bring. We also need to work on her costume for next week’s Trick or Treating. We’ve got to get Monkey up to speed about K. leaving for a while too. And I want to pick up a world map to help the kids know where K. is. We’ve explained to R. that her Dad will still be in this country for a while so hopefully that will take the edge off things for a while for her. She’s a bit of a worrier. I can tell by some issues at school that she’s not quite herself but she doesn’t recognize it either. Some of that is also 9-year-old girl drama that is more pervasive in her class than I care to think about. I blame Hannah Montana and iCarly (neither of which are allowed on in our house).

Now is also the point in which I give more thought to what I share with K. about day-to-day operations. Some of it will just be wasted space in his brain. Some of it he’ll want to know. Sifting through that–especially on the fly–makes me seem a lot less chatty. Pretty soon his communication time will be pretty limited and I don’t want to be in the habit of wasting his time. I’m also trying to get my brain around parenting a little differently. My parenting style is a bit harder than his is and sometimes less is more with the kids. It’s taken me a long time to recognize that. I’m a bit of a dictator–generally benevolent, but dictator nonetheless. K. is definitely the warmer and fuzzier of the two of us. K.’s handling of R.’s issues at school this week reminded me that I definitely need to invest in a bit more patience and compassion for the year. My extra stores of common sense don’t necessarily play well to emotional children.

I can’t say I’m feeling overwhelmed with everything approaching–I’m as ready as I can be–but the transition can be difficult to manage these last few days. I can tell it gets to me because I feel like I’m just standing still, waiting like a sprinter before a race. I get over-involved with inane (yet amusing to me) things to fill the time until it’s time for me to…take over?…I’m not sure there’s a right phrase to describe it. Until I’m on my own I guess would do. Even then, it’s not like I won’t consult K. if something important is happening. But since I’m the one managing the household anyway, it’s not that big a shift in job, it’s just assuming more responsibility. Every decision I make is pretty much my own at the point he leaves. A position that is both liberating and somewhat daunting.

For as much as the last couple of days have been draggy and less than stellar, I can not underestimate the satisfaction of a clean house, folded laundry, and sharing some True Blood fangirlishness with friends. I know that moving forward everything will be fine–well, an altered version of fine–and I just need to be patient, relaxed, and clear-headed. The fire in the fireplace is crackling away, there’s food in the fridge, the dogs are dozing on the couches, and I’m ready to enjoy one more night as a family.

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Zoomies in 3…2…1

When my dog, Casey, has too much energy built up, he gets what I call “zoomies.” He charges at top speed around the yard or through the woods like he’s chasing his last meal and sometimes he spins in circles for a few seconds as if in some canine ritualistic dance right before a sacrifice of porcupines and possums. You can almost see the energy streaking off him as he flies around the yard with his floppy Lab ears trailing behind him and his mouth open, showing off a toothy grin. He is practically exultant when he’s done. With one final full-body shake from his nose to the tip of his tail, he finishes with a wag and pants for a few seconds and then is his usual compliant, gentle self. I could use a round of zoomies.

Every now and again I get a serious case of restlessness like I have now that would be great to zoomie right off. Sometimes it lasts for weeks and sometimes a few hours. The causes for this state of mine can be legion. In this case, however, I’m just antsy for things to get underway. We are only a week and a half from the start of the deployment now and it’s going to go by quickly and I feel like I’m wasting time–which I am. I spent most of the afternoon doing mental pacing, virtual fidgeting, and wishing for something—anything—to change which was really useless. I have so much to do. My list of “have to’s” is quite long and only outstripped by my list of “would really really like to’s.” Sadly spinning my wheels just makes the ants antsier and the lists a whole lot farther away from being all done. I find my own company maddening and my self-indulgent procrastination irritating beyond belief when this happens. I know what needs to get done, and I know that if I just buckled down and took the smallest of steps to start, the work I have to do would get done quickly. But nooooo….

I was able to bypass this restless feeling for a few hours which was a relief. One of the things that works sometimes is if I listen to loud music and sing. There is nothing like belting out a couple of songs to expend some internal energy. For me, singing is a signal that I’m being productive. I sing when I’m working on a project that is going well and that I’m engaged in doing, I sing when I’m cooking, and I sing when I paint or draw. Singing shifts my brain just enough to keep my hands moving and my to do list short. I was hoping that singing would trick my brain into thinking it was doing something meaningful. On the docket was K.T. Tunstall, The Black Keys, Foo Fighters, Muse, and Incubus. I wished my ride to and from watercolor class were just a little longer so I could have sung my head completely clear but no such luck. The singing worked well enough for me to get through class though where I made up the colors for my next painting. Unfortunately when I got home most everyone was in bed, so singing was really out of the question, so here I am up (waaaay) too late thinking about how I’m going to fix myself for the coming days. First thing on the list will no doubt be a nap.

Anxious is not a word I like to use to describe myself and I can’t say that that’s at all how I’m feeling about
everything coming up. I’m something akin to excited. Not like excited for Christmas or a birthday, but excited like when I started college or a new job. Those times I knew I was going to come out on the other end different—hopefully better—and the thought of all the new things I was going to learn was thrilling. The unknown isn’t always a bad thing. I had tough times at school and work now and again, and I know this won’t be different in that respect, but unlike the last time K. deployed and I looked at the prospect with dread, this time I’m just itching to prove myself worthy of the challenge. I can’t wait to see what this year will bring.

First though, I have to get some sleep. Lullaby and good night….

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Great pumpkin

In an odd switch for our family, we are getting ready for Halloween earlier than usual. I admit that I’m rather lazy with this particular holiday. I, myself, am not interested in dressing up and I know what little self-control I have with Halloween candy, so it’s one of those times I tolerate. But this year Monkey has been interested in Halloween which is great. Last year we trolled his dress up clothes and he was a knight and it took until the day of Trick or Treating for R. to decide what she wanted to be (a ghost). This year, however, we are running early. Part of it has to do with K. leaving the weekend of Halloween and us wanting him to see the kids dressed up, and part of it has to do with Monkey’s excitement. For the first time ever, he picked out what he wanted to be: “Dash” from The Incredibles.

Normally, I try not to buy costumes, but he was due since R. had had a purchased costume once or twice. Off we went to Target to purchase one Incredibles costume. And here is my little superhero:

We’ve had to hide the costume and only bring it out now and again or I’m sure he’d end up looking like a homeless superhero on Halloween. The mask is already shot (not like that was a surprise), but he’s having so much fun, so I’m ignoring the fact that I’ll be making a new one in a week or so.

And after much indecision and conferring with her BFF, R. is going her own costume way and decided to be an assassin. We are still working out the actual costume, but she’s definitely enjoying posing with her guns. I should probably worry, but I think this is just the beginning of a long hammy career for my girl.

Watch out Angelina Jolie!

In another fit of earlybirdiness, we started carving the pumpkins too. Monkey wanted his to look like Jack Skellington from A Nightmare Before Christmas, so I did that first since it was already familiar to me after doing his birthday cake a la Jack.

R & K worked on getting the pumpkin prepped (he cut, she scooped).

Then I drew on the face, and K. started cutting out the details and then I took over to do the mouth which required smaller hands.

I only had one little mishap which thankfully did not involve me losing a finger, gouging an eye out, or accidentally ingesting anything. Jack did lose a stitch, but in the long run, it didn’t make much difference.

Jack, the Pumpkin King…

…in all his glowing glory thanks to a spare chem light.

K. and I had a good chuckle at our advanced preparations for Halloween. It’s completely unlike us, but it was fun. I just have to carve R’s pumpkin once I come up with a quick design for a vampire face. I wonder if she’d mind a vampire with a Viking helmet…

While sometimes it feels like we are cramming in a bunch of “normal” activities in a short space, we are also enjoying doing them. Instead of thinking that this is the last time we’ll do something for a while, we’ve been talking about how much we’d like to do them again when we are all together, and I have to say, it helps keep things in the proper perspective.

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Look out Betty Crocker!

The cold weather is definitely upon us. And apart from wanting to snuggle somewhere warm with a stack of books or sleep until Spring, this kind of weather just makes me feel like cooking. The kitchen at our old house was not nearly as conducive to cooking as this new one is. I am not a bad cook at all, but now that I have a decent kitchen, I love to cook and bake. Today feels like a cooking day. There’s pumpkin bread, banana bread, chili, and chicken pot pies to be made. Shouldn’t take too long and later after we carve some pumpkins, I may even attempt to do something tasty with the seeds. If pumpkin seeds can ever truly be tasty that is…

I’ve also been thinking about taking a weekend early next month to make a bunch of meals for me to portion out and freeze. I’m not terribly good at eating well when I’m on my own. I tend to want to go more vegetarian and the kids will starve to death if I force them to eat what I’m having all the time and I really don’t want to eat only what they are eating. Fighting over food is not my thing. We offer and adapt, but they’ll change their food ways when they are ready. R. has widened her variety pretty well now that I don’t hassle her so much. I figure it’s time to make my meal plans and pull some recipes and inventory my containers so I can eat better this time around. As much as I enjoy Oreos, Utz chips, and Edy’s frozen yogurt, they are probably not the best examples of optimal nutrition. I do like to eat healthily, but when I’m on my own with the kids, I tend to just eat their leftovers—a plight of many moms who hate to see food go to waste but end up sporting it on their waist. Ha ha.

Here’s my tentative list (and if I play my cards right it could last me through most of the Winter):

• veggie lasagna
• eggplant Parmesan
• chicken wild rice soup
• chili
• enchiladas
• salmon cakes
• chicken pot pies
• calzones

I know there are a few others I have yet to remember, but a little work in advance should ease my evenings and allow me something with nutritional value when I don’t have time or don’t feel like cooking. I will also make some home made bread to have around too and I think I’m going to try to grow some cherry tomatoes in the kitchen this winter as a little experiment that will hopefully result in snacking for me–they are my favorites. I can fill the dinner gaps with nachos, roasted chicken, fajitas, burgers, and eggs that R. will eat with me. Monkey is strictly a nugget boy and is not ready to deviate from that line, so that’s easy enough. Anywhere I can save myself some time and work, I’ll all for it. If anyone has a recipe to offer that’s good for freezing and reheating, please pass it along. There aren’t too many foods I don’t like or won’t try.

And speaking of cooking, it’s time to get started on today’s list. I am looking forward to sitting around tonight with K. in front of the fire with some pumpkin bread and a cup of tea and enjoying a little bit more peace while we have it.

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Cold, frosty one

Oh, how I wish I were talking about a beer. Sadly, not. I woke up this morning to frost on the pumpkins…and the grass and the turned over garden and my car. Winter is walking around way too early this year. I’m not a huge fan of Winter to start with, so having the heat turn on and the frost gilding the leaves is just…too soon. It’s bad enough that I’m nesting because K. is leaving, but now I feel like hibernating too. I was hoping to have a few mild days here and there before the snow drifts in, but there’s already chances of snow for the rest of the week. It’s not right, but at least it is pretty.

So, what do I do to ignore the injustices of Mother Nature? I clean of course! Actually today is “Chore Day” so that I can have time over the weekend for other and more scintillating things to do besides vacuum and fold laundry. You noticed that “chore” and “bore” and “snore” rhyme, right? Well, I had a productive day in spite of the cold and the mundane. The house is vacuumed and dusted and de-doggie haired, the laundry is done and put away, the dishes clean, the bathrooms sparkling, and the garbage gone. Tomorrow is fun with foodshopping. Exciting!

I did have some fun though to balance the work and finished up the 8th Sookie Stackhouse book and am going to embark on the latest book in the series and will be all caught up at that point. Can’t wait. Getting into these fits of obsessive reading makes me feel like a kid again. I read constantly growing up. I really only took a break to get the kids through their infant and toddler phases and now I have more time to read again. It is such a joy too. I hadn’t realized how dumb I was starting to feel all those years of not reading. And it’s no coincidence that my increased reading appetite and my renewed love of writing happened at about the same time. Greasing the wheels is always a good thing to do.

Right now the kids are bathed and asleep and I’m drinking tea and snuggling up with my youngest pooch, Zoe (named after Zoe from Firefly). She’s the best foot warmer in town and she had a busy day of chasing squirrels and wrestling with her big furry brother, CaseyJones outside in the crisp Fall day. She loves to be out in the cold when she’s not passed out asleep somewhere or stealing my shoes to pass out on top of. K. is away again tonight (he was last night too), staying over at the armory deep in the packing phase of preparations. He’s pretty swamped with getting last minute things squared away for the guys and himself, and honestly, I’d rather he stay there and get his work done than come home and be mentally elsewhere.

K.’s gear packed up in the barn a couple of weeks ago. GI Joe would sell his Kung Fu grip for all the stuff K. has stashed away in there!

The closer he gets to leaving, the weirder things get between us. I’m no stranger to being alone with the kids and the three of us have built a regular “Daddy’s not here” routine over the years and we seem to be able to slide right into it with little effort now. It is not that K. isn’t missed, it’s just a necessary evil to this life. I’m thinking it’s better we are a self sufficient little subset of the family than a needy mess. Still though, I think it’s hard for him sometimes to hear that we are fine without him and I’m never quite sure how to deal with that. It’s not easy to balance keeping him involved and letting him go at the same time. I try not to make him feel like I’m shoving him out the door, but I’m not perfect by a long shot and I get single-minded in my preparations and my sensitivity goes right out the door. This Army life that separates families so regularly can be so complicated and contradictory. It puts couples in awkward situations constantly and it’s quite the workout to remember that you are supposed to be one unit when you are always thinking and functioning separately. It is especially awkward when you are not actually separate quite yet. After all these years together though, I think we are more forgiving if not accepting of this mindset. I really don’t mind that he is away unscheduled this week to get his stuff in order. We have to get used to him being gone again anyway. He needs to be clear-headed so he can be safe and come home again. There’s always some trade-off. You just always have to keep that in mind.

And now I’m going to go cap off this quiet night with some more reading and a whole lot of sleep and look forward to the weekend ahead when K. is home with us.

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Done and doner

K. is back to work today after just over a week off. He’s got 2 weeks left now before the fun really begins. We’ve had our weekend away and he got to be home for Monkey’s birthday–two things that we weren’t sure were going to happen if his training schedule had gone the way we thought it would. For once Army Shenanigans worked in our favor. I was afraid our combined addictions were going to foil us in the preparations area–me with the Sookie Stackhouse novels and he with his new Civilization game–but we pulled off a fairly good goofing off to productivity ratio.

As I mentioned, I did get my desk(s) organized and I set up a laptop for the kids to use to email their Dad while he’s away (no grubby fingerprints on my computer, thank you very much!). I cleaned up my closet for a change too. I spent Sunday going through piles of paper and old bills and tossed a grove of trees worth of paper and filed the rest. I’m paper pile free for the moment and with a fair amount of self discipline I might keep the piles away all together. Ha! Right. Going through a year’s worth of paid bills only took me a half a day–that’s not too bad, right? I do all the bill paying and I am the one responsible for the accumulation and I know I do this, but at least once a year, the pile gets to that point where it falls over with just a thought of looking at it so I just toss more on the pile and look away and shut the door that hides it. It’s a filing system that works though–everything is definitely in one place.

Yesterday was a beautiful, warm Fall day, so I spent part of it outside clearing out the garden and turning over all the soil for next year. I have more to do out there, but for now, it’s in a good place in case I just don’t get to it again until spring. Now we just have to call for a fall leaf clean up and I’ll be set. K. took down the large screen tent I put up back in the Spring on the back deck and put away all the summer lawn furniture. I was sorry to see it go, but happy to get more light in the kitchen now that the green structure was gone. The light is getting short enough as it is and I’d like to be able to see what is there. Plus, I have no doubt the screen tent wouldn’t last the winter and I am not inclined to deal with a broken tent in 6 feet of snow (that’s a conservative estimate). I am happy to be able to enjoy the view of my big back yard again. I also did a quick round of dog poop pick up in the yard, but I have to say, I didn’t mind. First, it wasn’t so hot out that anything smelled. Secondly, there just wasn’t much there. Since the dogs are on the best food they could be on, the stuff disintegrates pretty quick when left for the elements to deal with. It’s just one of the many perks of a raw diet for dogs.

I also finally finished a painting I’ve been working on in my water color class for 2 semesters (of 8 weeks each).  Here’s a sneak preview:

I am extra super slow and ridiculously hesitant, but I was so close and I want to move on at class tonight, so finish it I did. I put my headphones on and listened to book 6 of the Sookie series and just wrapped it right up. I work so much better when my brain is occupied with music or books. I think it came out pretty good for a newbie painter and I just need to go mat and frame it after I add a few minor details and it’ll be complete. I’ll get to that this weekend though and then I can finally give it over to Mom (who, like any good Mom, enjoys doodles from her kids) for her Mother’s Day/Birthday present combo only about 5 months late. I’m horrible with giving gifts on time. Sometimes I wish I could just give thoughts, because I have those early. Now that I’m done with this painting though, I plan on writing up the experience on my other blog for my business. I definitely learned quite a bit including patience for myself which should come in handy this year.

I think there were some other small projects I finished, but my brain has now moved on to future projects, so I’m blanking on what they were. As I mentioned before, I’m at that point of moving forward and planning all the time. Hopefully by the time the end of the month rolls around, I’ll have wrapped up a lot of these little things. Snow will be upon us soon enough, and I want to make sure we’re ready. I’m hoping we’ll have several good weekends to wrap up some of the outdoor things and weather proofing. It’s almost time to hibernate.

All in all, it was a nicely balanced week. I’m hoping to continue the trend for this week. We’ve got a few projects that are probably going to take me more than a day that I want to start chipping away at and then when they are done, I can just work on maintenance around here and not have big things hanging over my head. I look forward to that sense of accomplishment and having the option to feel like I can relax (although, in reality, I’m not much good at relaxing for long).Winters here are long and with K. away, I’ll have enough on my plate without my OCD-lite nagging at me to deal with these projects.

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Ode to a Monkey

Six years ago tonight I sat in a maternity ward hospital room by myself. I could hear the cries of newborns but none of them were mine…not that I would have known what my baby sounded like. It was a tough day and a lonesome night. I had been 7 months pregnant and everything was going well until earlier in the week when I started pre-term labor that not even the anti-contraction drugs could stop. Monkey was born at two in the afternoon after a ridiculously quick labor and emergency C-section. After he was born—coming in at a whopping 4.4 oz. and 16 inches long—I only saw Monkey for about a minute right before they loaded him onto the ambulance, and that was it until the next afternoon when I was moved to the same hospital as him. I spent that first night contemplating the picture the nurses had given me of my baby boy. I couldn’t say who he looked like, nor how heavy he felt, or how well he was eating, or how strong his grip was. I just didn’t know and it broke my heart.

The next day started 5 weeks of hospital stay at two different NICUs. Within 24 hours of his birth he had surgery for testicular torsion. Within a couple days a nurse realized one of his arms was broken (it wasn’t broken during the birthing process–someone broke it and no one ever took responsibility). Thanks to all the crying from the pain of the broken arm (as we later found out) Monkey ended up with air in his intestines that he couldn’t get rid of easily so they thought he had and biopsied him for Hirschprung’s disease. Luckily it was not that or any other thing. Within a couple of weeks he was breathing well on his own which was our first hurdle in bringing him home. All that was left was for him to gain enough weight so he was over 5 lbs. He was so skinny he looked like a spider monkey and that’s how he first got his nickname “Monkey.” Now he just is a monkey. He spent his first Halloween in a NICU looking like an old man who was only as big as a stuffed animal. See?

We were able to bring our boy home in the first part of November. He was just over 5 lbs. and was a really good-natured boy who didn’t cry more than he should and was already starting to be the sunny kid he is now. We just started getting into a routine with him when the rumblings of K’s first deployment started to become serious. There wasn’t much time to really enjoy our new baby before the craziness of the deployment preparations came along. I can honestly say I don’t remember a whole lot about my maternity leave that doesn’t seem like watching a movie in fast forward. Soon, K. left and I was on my own with the kids.

Monkey’s first year was tough on all of us. I don’t know that Monkey noticed though which was really a boon for me and probably him too. He seemed to know when I was feeling my absolute shittiest or when his big sister was going to push me right over the edge with her “I miss Daddy” tantrums, because he would just look at me and smile a big old toothless grin and deflate my anger and frustration in a second. He was a little squirmy Prozac. Monkey developed eczema when he was a few months old and we’ve been fighting and managing it ever since, and that really only made him tougher, but he was still a happy kid in spite of it all. It was hard to feel sorry for myself when I had this sweet face in front of me who had been through more in his short life than I had been through in over 30 years. I had no room to complain.

K. came home when Monkey was about 16 months old and Monkey was wary of him for a couple of weeks before he decided that K. was ok. After that, we tried to carry on like a regular family, although like most families find out post-deployment, it’s neither a quick nor easy adjustment. Again, I don’t think Monkey noticed and his growing sense of humor and comic timing certainly helped me over the bumps and balanced out all the trouble we were having with his eczema that kept him, K. and I up most nights trying to ease his discomfort. He was part of an Early Intervention program keeping track of his developmental progress and before he was released from the program, the OT (who loved him) commented on how his sense of humor was far better developed than most kids his age.

Potty training might take a while at this rate…

asleep at the meal!

Coffee, tea, or Monkey?

Monkey’s eczema has influenced our lives—and mine in particular—in ways I never thought possible. The lack of sleep we all experienced for a good solid 5 years certainly did not help anyone. The allergy meds were turning him into a zombie and impeded his academic development as well as his speech. Plus, they just weren’t working. We changed his diet and even that wasn’t helping enough to ease his itching. He built a habit of scratching when he was stressed that has been incredibly hard to break. And he missed out on those bursts of learning that young kids have. His speech is still way behind. He sounds more like a 3-year old than a 6-year old but he has a wonderful imagination, he’s incredibly polite and affectionate, and thanks to being an extreme visual learner he can pretty much recite back almost every movie he’s watched. It’s both funny as hell when he uses the lines he knows at the odd yet strangely appropriate moment, and irritating as can be when he’s just rambling on to himself. Through all his problems he is still a happy, mischievious kid. He has his tantrums like every other little kid, but they don’t last long and he’s not one to hold a grudge.

In moving to our new town and home, I made the decision to stay home with Monkey. It was not in my plans ever to be a stay-at-home Mom, but he was not a day care kid like his sister. Other people could not seem to handle the eczema management, and Monkey could not manage the over-stimulation that large groups of kids managed to create. We looked at a few potential day cares when we came up here, but with every visit I could see Monkey get stressed and I could see the other kids staring at him and making him feel bad for looking different. I couldn’t do it to him just so I could pretend that I was still a cubicle jockey and feel “normal” myself. He had already lost a lot of academic ground and catching him up was becoming more important by the day. He was so far behind. He was and is by no means a stupid kid, he is just laden with speed bumps like a condo complex. We’ve been lucky to have such a great team up here helping him—teachers, therapists, specialists, and his dermatologist. They have all guided me to have a better grasp on his learning style, what he needs to manage his itching both emotionally and physically, and how to prepare him to deal with transitions. Working with Monkey has been a huge learning experience for me and by that, I mean I’ve learned about about myself.

I love my kids, but I’m not generally a kid person. I sometimes think I’ve lost the ability to just play, but Monkey is showing me the ropes again and I feel a lot less silly being silly. Laughing with him is just too addictive. I’ll even sing in front of other people now where before the dashboard of my car was my only audience because he loves to sing too and I like to encourage him. I had felt like my creativity was buried so far down that it would take one of those ocean oil rig drills to find it. But since he responds so well to visual cues, I ended up kick starting my whole artistic flow again by drawing him little pictures of events to help him get through his day. I’m also not the most affectionate creature in the world, but Monkey is a hugging and kissing bandit, so I’ve learned to shrink my personal space boundaries a bit more. As much as he has changed for the better by being with me, I’d say it’s a two-way street. I can’t imagine who I would be if Monkey had never made it that day six years ago.

I’m not sure how other mothers of preemies feel, but I know I carry around a fair amount of guilt that my body failed to keep Monkey where he belonged for his own benefit. We don’t know why he showed up so soon, but he was in me and not someone else, so I feel a bit responsible for his early appearance even though I like to tease R. that it was her fault for asking if the baby could come out and play so damned often while I was pregnant. (The boy loves his big sister!) Feeling that guilt lends a different dimension to my relationship with Monkey than I am used to from my relationship with R. who was a normal pregnancy and easy as pie when she was an infant (really, if she hadn’t been so awesome as a baby we might not have had another). My connection with Monkey is different right now than my connection with R. I don’t love him more, but I’m more aware of how much I love him because I am just so thankful every day that we didn’t lose him when it was all too easy for that to have happened. And having felt helpless so often those first weeks of his life, I tend to take the initiative in getting the right help for his issues more (although that’s spilled over to R. too—I’m much more hands on with her than I used to be when she was a little kid at daycare and school) and speak up for things I normally might not have before. Because he is behind, I am over the moon for even the smallest jumps in progress. Going through everything we have together with Monkey has made me a better and stronger person.

I joke that because I spend so much time with Monkey he’s my best friend, but I could do a whole lot worse. There are many days I wish I could be more like him—more carefree, appreciative of others, and able to let the bad stuff roll off. He teaches me these things every day, and in exchange I hope to teach him to not lose those gifts that make him such a pleasure to be around.

I love you, Monkey-man and I’m glad you’re here. Thank you for saving me.  Happy Birthday!

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