A Tough Story

I was thinking about something terrible that happened to our family when I was a child, and what better place to relieve one’s mind of childhood terrors than their own personal blog? I don't know what made me think of this story; just processing I guess. One can do that many years later, can't they? It took me one full day to get the courage {{not sure if thats the right word}} up to write the post and then two more days to write it and two hours to get the nerve up to push "publish post".

It is amazing what children can endure. I didn’t have the most horrible childhood; I’ve definitely heard far, far worse stories that make me thankful for mine. But it was quite rough. One of the hardest years I can remember was my eleventh year. In one year we had to deal with the story I’m about to share, the death of my grandfather and another major event that led to the falling apart of the entire family.

I spent the beginning of my eleventh year in an inner city school where there were daily fights, lots of gang related issues and many other things scary to an eleven year old. During this time my mom was seeing a man named Tim. He owned his own auto repair shop and was relatively successful. He was controlling. He was also a raging alcoholic {{no really, we were mixing his drinks before school in the morning, ‘for the road’}}. They fought a lot, too. They had a very volatile relationship and many of their fights turned physical. Despite their relationship, my mom stayed with Tim at his house, a lot during that time. My older brother and his girlfriend were living in our house so she was able to stay at his house a good majority of the time. Some nights after work he would come and get us and take us to his house where my mom would meet us and we’d all have dinner and hang out. Growing up my mom always taught us not to ever get in a car with someone who had been drinking. She also taught us not to question adults. Some of the nights he would come to get us, he would arrive to pick us up drunk.

One of his vehicles was this old truck. He would have my little brother sit up front with him and make me ride in the covered bed {{ALL of this is quite illegal in the state of California}}. One night my mom must have known he was beyond drunk and rushed home to make sure he didn’t try and drive with us. That night he was in a bad mood {{have you ever questioned an angry drunk? How about one that is forty years older than you?}} And when I climbed into the bed of the truck, I think I was crying and scared. She caught us about six blocks from our house and made him turn around. When we got back to the house she opened the back of the truck and started yelling at me, asking me what I thought I was doing put my little brother and I in that situation. This is one of my saddest memories from my childhood {{and I have a lot… maybe too many for one person}}. I had never felt so helpless. I knew not to get in the car with him, but I also knew better than to question him. I was eleven, what was I supposed to do? Question an adult if he had too much to drink to drive me around? {{Probably not}}Many years later, when discussing this incident my mom actually agreed that we were taught not to question an adult and we would have NEVER asked about their ability to drive.

Anyways, regardless of the fights and the drinking, sometime before Christmas, we moved in with him. My little brother and I changed schools and started going to a much better school. It was new and children weren’t from… well it wasn’t an inner city school {{If you catch my drift.}} It was very different. Our routine was very different now, too. In some ways it was better: we had family dinners together almost every night, having another ‘parent’ in the house helped make coming and going easier. But the fights just got worse and worse. He was controlling, not just of my mom but of us. The alcoholism really didn’t help. I remember witnessing two bad fights between him and my mom. There were many more that I didn’t see. The ones I didn’t see used to give me nightmares. In one of the ones I saw, she toed up to him and shoved him and almost pushed him down the stairs. In the other fight he broke the phone so I couldn’t call 911 and I remember trying to get a neighbor to let me call the cops but no one was home or no one cared. After both of these fights, he ‘quit’ drinking and promised to be better but if I remember right, he never made it past the painful part of detox before cracking the bottle again. In all their fights, the physical violence was never turned on us {{I honestly believe as I write this that is why we stayed so long}}.

Then one day, my little brother talked back about something. Probably because Tim was too smashed to carry on a decent conversation and even my nine year old brother could tell. My brother tried to walk away but Tim wouldn’t let him. My brother tried to run up the stairs and Tim tackled him. My brother swung at him to try and get him off of him and then Tim chased him in his room where I could only hear my brother screaming. My mom wasn't home and I had NO CLUE what to do. For a second I just waited expecting it to be my turn next. By the SWEET GRACE OF GOD the garage door opened right as all this was going on and when my brother started screaming, I ran out to get my mom. She ran in under the garage door before it even opened three feet. And when we got to the stairs, Tim started coming down. My mom demanded to know what he did. “What? He punched me, so I punched him back.”

I’m not 100%, but I’m pretty positive, that was the beginning of the end. One day my mom came to me and told me she had a plan to get away. It was hard because he was so controlling. We had to be quiet. We couldn’t talk about it and we had to go on like nothing was wrong or going to happen. It was imperative for it to work, for me not to do anything that would make it look like we were leaving. The day she told me I was SO excited to be leaving, I packed a bag and hid it deep in my closet, where it wouldn’t be found. I told a friend at school, but she didn’t believe me and she didn’t believe why. After that I didn’t tell anyone else. One day we were to just disappear and that was just the way it had to be. It took awhile {{or it seemed to}} and I almost didn’t think it would happen. Then one night mom told me, “Tomorrow’s the day.”

The next day we all got up and got ready for our day as usual. Mom got ready for work and my brother and I got ready for school and ate breakfast. Tim got ready for work and kissed us all goodbye and left. Literally as he pulled away around one corner, my older brother and my cousin pulled around the other with a U-haul. Now, let me tell you a little something {{else}} about my family; we’re a family of movers. I went to twelve different schools between Kindergarten and twelfth grade. Ok? We can pack crap like no one else can. That day, we had a little less than four hours to pack all of our stuff into the van get it to our house, lock it up and get away. I don’t think there has been a move since with so much teamwork and such little talking. {{We were packing CHAMPIONS that day!}} We knew what we had to do and we all busted our asses to get it done. Checking the window every now and then to make sure he wasn’t home. I want to say we went from not ready to move at all to completely packed and ready to go in three hours, maybe less. Unloading took thirty minutes as we rushed to get everything just off the truck and the house locked up tight before lunchtime; before there was even a remote possibility that he would be at home and see our stuff gone.
Afraid of the backlash from what we had done, my mom sent us to stay with my grandma while she stayed with a friend. We were very afraid of what he would do. I remember having nightmares about what he would do to my mom and him coming to steal us away in the night. But he never did. Actually, other than one time I never saw him again. {{Lucky me!}} I’m not sure if my mom sheltered us from any backlash there may have been or if there never was any. {{I should ask about this, maybe.}}

We finished out what was left of the school year at my grandma’s house {{at yet another school}} and when summer started, we moved back in with my mom into a new house that was just ours. It was a big house on a small dirt road. We had a huge yard and the house next door backed to a creek and we would go down and play in the water all the time. There was also a HUGE park with a city pool literally right across the street. That summer we played, swam, jumped on our trampoline, had sleep outs on the trampoline and did lots of kids things. That summer was like a different world. Things weren't perfect, but they were easier. At least for awhile.

Not to go all PSA on you, but I think it's probably a good idea to throw out there that it IS possible to get away. It IS possible to be happy and successful. And it IS possible to have good, true, honest love after abuse. It's not easy but it's SO worth it.

Bump Post

This will be my first official Bump-Post. I'm a huge fan of another pregnant blogger and I like the way she formats her baby posts. Hopefully she won't mind that I'm using it. I am 13 weeks today and my first official appointment is tomorrow. Yes. That's right, I haven't seen an OB yet. Some day I'll do a "Oh how I love military hospitals" post. Today isn't that day. I won't be doing this every week. For one, I don't have time and for two, most of you don't care.



Size of baby: This Week Baby 2.0 is the size of a medium shrimp.


Total Weight Gained: I'm not sure. Maybe a pound or two.


Maternity Clothes: I am wearing some because they are comfortable. But for the most part I still fit into most of my jeans except some of them I have to use the hair-tie trick on.


Gender: Unknown. Hoping to learn the sex the first week of June.



Movement: I have been feeling little things every now and then but wasn't sure I could actually feel it this early. But today I sneezed and my belly went crazy.



Sleep: I've been having a hard time sleeping with everything going on. But I've been exhausted.



What I miss: Hunter Jumper :o( I miss the barn and my barn family and riding on Sissy. Eating food and being satisfied and wine.






Cravings: The last couple of days it has been orange julius. But up until then I have not thought ANY thing has tasted or sounded good.


Aversions: EVERYTHING.



Symptoms: Horrific nausea and vomitting. ALL DAY. It's been awful. For everyone in the house. I wonder if whining is a prenatal symptom??



Best Moment this week: Will hopefully be when I talk to my doctor tomorrow and he helps out with this awful morning sickness I've been having. Plus, I have a few things to discuss with him about his FINE {{Rude}} staff.


Exciting wasn't it?

The Lip

My child was born with her bottom lip out. You know that sad face babies make and it tears your little heart strings? Well, ok. It only does that if it's your kid. She could push that lip out like no other kid I have ever seen. Showing her general displeasure at having been pulled out of a nice warm place by a bunch of aliens and crying people. J and I thought {{think}} it was {{is}} the cutest thing in the world. She learned to put it out anytime she felt life wasn't going her way. Her little infant way of telling us, "My life is shit and I'm not too young to know it."

If she would get bored with one of us or our antics to try and make her laugh, she would look to the side and put her lip out. "Are these really my parents?" Once I walked into her room to find her with her giant frown and her bottom lip curled down to her chin. Perhaps mad at having been laid down for a nap or maybe the letters spelling her name above her crib said something to offend her. I guess I'll never know. Another time her Angry-Bunny {{Angry-Bunny made her angry like no baby should get, hence, it's name. But it was her favorite}} hurt her feelings and she stared at it with her lip out as far as she could for a full minute before she saw something shiny. She. was. serious.

When we took Bug home for Christmas the year she was born, J's family explained that his grandpa used "The Lip" to get his point across when he was very angry. Apparently, when he got to the point of "The Lip," the conversation was over. I asked if there was a picture of this so we {{I}} could put it into her little {{huge}} baby book. No one was ever brave enough to take a picture of the man in this state. How fitting.

It's been a while since "the Lip" made an appearance I was starting to worry she had grown out of her family heritage. But today we got to see it {{prompting this maternal flashback}} when Bug thought J was going to leave for work without giving her a hug {{like he could ever do such a thing}}.

Feeling a Little Less Stressed

Today is the first day all week I've felt some what on top of things. I have been pretty sick the last few weeks ((there will be more about that in a post on Tuesday)) and I've been having a hard time accomplishing anything and being of any use at all. Well, with my 4am meltdown the other morning, came a nice wake up call and I've been doing things when I'm feeling well enough, just to get things done.

We have the handy-man scheduled to come out and fix ALL of our lender required repairs on Tuesday. This is a HUGE weight off our shoulders. This was one of the things I was stressing most and I'm so glad it's almost over! Also, I've managed to get a good start on a "trash" list, a packing list for each side of the country we'll be on, and a "To-do" list of things that have to be done. This week I've gotten a lot of laundry done and we were able to get almost all of it put away. I even managed to sort mine and Bug's clothes into what can be packed for later use and what we'll need to take with us.

J and I have also been talking a lot the last couple days about how things are going to go. He's going to try really hard to get transportation to come and move our stuff to storage at Bragg. This would be a HUGE help to us because then we won't have to move it from our house to a storage unit and have them go to the storage unit later to un-pack all of our stuff just to re-pack and load it. I'm keeping my fingers crossed, but not holding my breath. I have a math final Monday night and I have until Wednesday to take care of the remaining things for my speech class. Then those will be two less things I have to worry about.

It's nice to be getting things done.

Denial: Not just a River in Egypt

'I. Must. Be. Out. Of. My. Mind.' That's the thought I had at 4 o'clock this morning. Why is it that something that should have sank in a month ago hit me like a ton of bricks at 4 in the morning? This always happens to me when I have been ignoring major life changes that will inevitably happen. In the middle of the night my little eyes open, wide awake, and all I can think is, 'Fuuuuuuuuddddddggggggggeee.' Only it's the other word. Then I have to fight the urge to get out of bed and run around like a chicken with its head cut off. There really isn't much you can accomplish at 4 in the morning.

I have been living in this nice little bubble where things will get taken care of eventually, if I ignore them long enough. Yep, I've been lazily paddling down a river of denial. It's so peaceful and quiet. Then suddenly your boats knocked over and your sitting in muck. Problem with my little float down the Denial is I still have to take care of everything and now I only two weeks to get it all done. Shot myself in the foot this time didn't I? The good news: I work well under pressure. I've started my lists and even before 10 this morning have two important things accomplished. Now to tackle the rest of the page of tasks at hand.

Note to self: Don't do this next time.

Ready or Not...

Big dramatic-running-around-like-a-chicken-with-my-head-cut-off-need-to-talk-to-my-mommy-meltdown over and reality and silver lining set in; we have a new NEW plan. We are using the term "plan" loosely as things are bound to change again before it all comes to fruition, anyways. All of it wouldn't be so bad if something hadn't happened to April. Did you catch it? It was here but I sat on the couch and ignored my life for the entire month and now it's May. I had all this time to do things and be organized and make my lists. But I didn't. And now it's May 3rd and nothing is done and there is SO much to do and I don't have the desire to do any of it. Just thinking about the next 8 weeks exhausts me.

Having come to terms with the fact that J and I will be apart for almost the entire month of June, most of July and the last ten days of May, I'm feeling a lot less stress about the situation than I was. It sucks. It's not ideal. We'd rather be together, but by being in two separate states we'll be able to accomplish more than if I stayed and waited on him. Plus without our things, school, can't ride, soon it will be too hot to enjoy barn time and J at work, what would I do with myself during that time anyway? So, Bug and I are taking our trip to CA, which will include a quick road trip to Portland and stop over in AZ on our way home. Then when we get back to OK, we'll pack up our Jeep and Bug and I will head out on a road trip to NC. Donkey & Shrek off on a whirlwind adventure. I'll let you figure out who is who.

Our job once we get to NC is to find us a house. STAT. The sooner I decide on one that we'll love, the sooner we'll close on it. Which hopefully will work out so that by the time J gets there, we'll be only a week or two from closing. Much better for the delivery of our stuff. Much better than waiting until August to choose a house and then gambling with the fact that we could be closing on a house AFTER we have Baby 2.0. That would be bad. I'm sure the friends we will be staying with love us, I'm not sure it's *that* much! After I find us a house, I will look for a job. Picking up my associates degree will hopefully help me find something decent but, honestly, I'm not holding my breathe. I'm not too sure how successful I'll be getting a job and being 6 months pregnant. If I was in HR and interviewing people, I would run from me.

That's the whole chaotic mess. In there somewhere, we're supposed to have a yard sale, pack for the 5 different things and places our stuff is going to need to go, move out of a house, sell a house, move J in with a friend, have an OB appt ((or 2)), and two finals. Am I Ready for all of this?

Ready or not, here I go.

No $h-- there I was... *cuss word warning*

Typing a blog about all the chaos our growing little family is about to endure in the next few weeks and all our plans {which we has just agreed on YESTERDAY}, when in walks my husband, "I've got bad news." The look on his face tells me this isn't the normal, 'oops, I forgot to put out the garbage can' bad news. Or the 'Gas went up another .20' bad news. Damn. I give him the let's-have-it look and he goes on, "They pushed my report date to Bragg back a month. To the end of August." What may have started as in inward groan becomes a very outward groan and I roll my eyes. Not at my husband but at the situation. "Fucking Lawton!" People have been telling us since we got here to be careful abou this place. "Watch out! It'll suck you in and some how never let you leave!" Ok I'm being dramatic. It's not that we're never leaving. It's just that now we have to stay for an extra 6 weeks.

For those of you who may not be tracking why this is an issue, I'll start at the top: The first MAJOR issue with having to stay another month is as of May 23rd WE ARE HOMELESS!! J was supposed to take his hat off as of May 31st which meant we had about 2 1/2 weeks of taking over a friend's house before we were to get on the road and leave this dump in the dust. Our plans {{YESTERDAY}} were that Bug and I would take the last opportunity for her and I to travel for the cost of one, to go see my madre and the rest of our family in CA for a couple weeks. Then when we were finished with a nice relaxing visit, we'd fly to NC and J would meet us there. Probably around the 5th-ish of the month. Easiest on everyone. Only J and the dogs have to crash at his friend's house and only J and the dogs have to be in the car for two days straight on the drive from OK. Well NOW, J won't be taking his hat off until the damn end of July. The crappy thing is I'm pretty sure they won't ship out stuff this early which means we'll have to move ourselves to storage until then.

We have options. Quite a few of them. Lack of options is not what stresses me out about this situation. The problem is that 2/3s of our options means Bug and I will be away from J until he can out process from Ft. Sill in July. To civilian families being apart from one another this amount a time probably doesn't seem like an issue. But any military family knows that being apart any length of time sucks because there is ALWAYS an impending deployment. That's right, we're expecting J to leave at some point in the fall {{the name of this blog wasn't just a clever take on life}}, which means Bug and I would be away from him over the summer and then, the two of us plus aother, would be away from him for a deployment.

I've had people asking me the same questions I have spinning through my head all morning until I thought my head would explode. I don't know what we'll do, or how things will work out, I just know they will. I also know this is somewhat our fault. We made a plan and plans and the military never work out. Grace under pressure is one of the key characteristics of a military spouse.

Time to try again.