Yes I realize I haven’t been blogging.
You try blogging when you’re moving, dealing with pukey kids and have hand surgery all while going to school and tutoring kids that really don’t want to be tutored.
|My poor little fat hands, |
3 weeks out of surgery
So. Anyway. Three weeks ago I had my hands operated on. It was endoscopic surgery, and my hands are still so weak I can’t open up the pickle jar, much to Ms Scarlett’s disappointment. Have you ever gotten the "well what good are you to me" look from a three year old? Well, that's the look that I got from her when I told her "Momma's hands aren't strong enough yet." It's some kind of special. She stomped her little foot and stressed to me "MOMMY. I NEED pickles." I told her she'd have to wait for Auntie C.
D’s been extended AGAIN. Once in December, now again. The extensions are only a few months at a time, but DAMN if they’d told me that he was going to be in Europe this long, I could’ve gotten me and the kenders to Germany already! And right before they extended him, they packed most of his stuff and sent it here. So last week, I got to open a few containers that hold my husband’s life; everything smelled like him, it was packed willy-nilly, like him… I haven’t cried over it yet, but wow, it’s been a fight. I’ve got the baggage, but not the soldier, how does that work?
Boychik and I ran errands and I was talking to the sewing machine ladies at my local
holy shrine craft store. This woman said to me that if I want the
military to treat spouses and families like they matter I need to vote
Republican. Oh, and she’s very thankful
that the ‘lower ranks’ qualify for food stamps.
Her daddy’s a general. Her
husband is a colonel. No way she’s EVER
been left behind like we have.
Lately anytime D gets mentioned, one little kid or the other starts whimpering, and the other will say at least one of the following:
I miss Daddy
I want Daddy
WHERE is Daddy
Daddy’s stuff here, why not him?
On that last one you’ve gotta remember, the little kids are 3 and 5, and speech isn’t a strong point for either of them yet.
Thinking back on it, the only good thing lately has been an improved GPA and both little kids FINALLY being daytime toilet trained. In fact, Boychik’s only accidents have been either at school or throwing up in bed at night.
Ooooooh buddy, you haven’t lived till you’ve woken to either the sound of a child barfing, or the smell is so BAD it wakes you out of a dead sleep. Then there’s the whole “put a towel over it and try to get more sleep, or let the kid into bed and get no sleep”. This time around it was the co-sleep option. The co-sleep option, at least with Boychik, blows goats.
And on that thought, I need to go pack his “uh oh” bag for school. Seems his has been misplaced or it got used and I never sent a new one… that scenario’s more likely, honestly.