Typically on a Saturday, well no, not typically at all because Chris is always absent. Let me begin again.
I like to make pancakes or waffles with eggs for my family on Saturday mornings. The kids love it and Chris thinks it's amazing. I find it very difficult to make such a mess just to cook three waffles when he is gone. The kids have been playing Wii all morning and I have yet to brush my hair. Yep, that's what a Saturday, during a deployment, at our house looks like. I am trying to convince myself that taking a shower and going grocery shopping is worth the effort. We could scrape by another week by eating canned corn and tuna. The kids believe that eating cereal for dinner is a special treat. So who am I to take that away from them by cooking chicken and dumplings or spaetzle with goulash? That is so much work when the little ones would rather not eat my efforts in the kitchen. The fact that I have so few friends on this island adds to the lack of desire to exert any energy in any direction.
We decided to live off post this time around and it has its ups but also has an enormous amount of downs. Living on post with Nana could have been a disaster. We weren't able to get command sponsorship for her at Campbell, so she wasn't cleared to live on post with us here. I can only imagine what kind of drama ONE nosey neighbor would have kicked up if Nana had gone wandering around the block in her Alzheimer's induced delirium. Instead of quietly bringing her home, family advocacy would have been involved and adult protective services. No thanks. I'd rather live way out here all by myself than deal with that. The truth is that many people care for the ageing members of their family at home. However, on post, the average age of women is 25. How many 25 year olds do you know caring for a grandmother? Exactly, none. How many 25 year olds do you know who are mature enough to handle a situation such as mine? So, the understanding and patience I would need from others to live in my military community is non existent. That means we live out here cut off from our Army family. It's lonely sometimes. Nana is turning 91 this year and is in poor health. I can't imagine having to move her once more. I can't fathom trying to help her make sense of it again. I haven't been able to convince her that Hawaii is a state, or that the Japanese aren't commy bastards yet.
I guess, I'll get up and attempt to put together a list of needed groceries. I guess, I'll brush my hair and put on a bra. I guess, I'll feed the kids something other than tuna mac with corn tonight. I'm not going to do these things because I am a great Mom, but because I don't want to be this lump too much longer. I'll only get out of this rut if I start climbing. Here it goes.
I like to make pancakes or waffles with eggs for my family on Saturday mornings. The kids love it and Chris thinks it's amazing. I find it very difficult to make such a mess just to cook three waffles when he is gone. The kids have been playing Wii all morning and I have yet to brush my hair. Yep, that's what a Saturday, during a deployment, at our house looks like. I am trying to convince myself that taking a shower and going grocery shopping is worth the effort. We could scrape by another week by eating canned corn and tuna. The kids believe that eating cereal for dinner is a special treat. So who am I to take that away from them by cooking chicken and dumplings or spaetzle with goulash? That is so much work when the little ones would rather not eat my efforts in the kitchen. The fact that I have so few friends on this island adds to the lack of desire to exert any energy in any direction.
We decided to live off post this time around and it has its ups but also has an enormous amount of downs. Living on post with Nana could have been a disaster. We weren't able to get command sponsorship for her at Campbell, so she wasn't cleared to live on post with us here. I can only imagine what kind of drama ONE nosey neighbor would have kicked up if Nana had gone wandering around the block in her Alzheimer's induced delirium. Instead of quietly bringing her home, family advocacy would have been involved and adult protective services. No thanks. I'd rather live way out here all by myself than deal with that. The truth is that many people care for the ageing members of their family at home. However, on post, the average age of women is 25. How many 25 year olds do you know caring for a grandmother? Exactly, none. How many 25 year olds do you know who are mature enough to handle a situation such as mine? So, the understanding and patience I would need from others to live in my military community is non existent. That means we live out here cut off from our Army family. It's lonely sometimes. Nana is turning 91 this year and is in poor health. I can't imagine having to move her once more. I can't fathom trying to help her make sense of it again. I haven't been able to convince her that Hawaii is a state, or that the Japanese aren't commy bastards yet.
I guess, I'll get up and attempt to put together a list of needed groceries. I guess, I'll brush my hair and put on a bra. I guess, I'll feed the kids something other than tuna mac with corn tonight. I'm not going to do these things because I am a great Mom, but because I don't want to be this lump too much longer. I'll only get out of this rut if I start climbing. Here it goes.
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