The Trials of Parenting a Daughter

"A blow with a word strikes deeper than a blow with a sword" ~Robert Burton

Alyssa is now 13 1/2, and WOW, am I completely not ready for the trials and tribulations involved in parenting her. Jayson was so easy. We had about a year where I wanted to strangle him for various things, but we got past it. However, life with Alyssa for the last couple of years has been a meat grinder, and I'm finally beginning to see small glimpses of her getting better, but when she's bad...Oh my goodness, it's BAD! 


Yesterday afternoon ended up being a pivotal point in our relationship that I'm still trying to wrap my head around. In fact the only way that I can even fathom what transpired is by subjecting you all to it by typing it out. Long story short, I picked her up from school so we could dash to piano. Instead of coming right to the car, she stopped and chit-chatted with a friend. I tried texting her to  remind her that I was waiting, and she didn't text me back because HER PHONE WAS AT HOME...on the charger! Needless to say, I was slightly irritated. I fully admit that my irritation definitely showed in my tone when I asked her why she had to have this conversation right at that moment when she knew that we had somewhere to be. Of course, Alyssa is in that "I'm touchy, and everyone is mad at me when they question me about things," so right away, I knew this was going to go somewhere where I didn't want to go...And it did.


Before I knew it, we were in a full fledged heated discussion. I hesitate to say argument because arguments usually involve both parties raising their voices to make their point. She was now yelling at me (no surprise there), and the conversation had migrated over to her "friends." This is relevant because the girl that she was talking to; well, they haven't spoken the entire year, yet they were very close the year before. Alyssa has moved on with new friends, and the girl hasn't. I personally felt that was very crappy, and chose to voice my opinion about that. I also voiced my opinion about not being very crazy about the friends that she hangs with now. (Think of the movie "Mean Girls"). At any rate, I find most of her friends morally questionable, and from watching their interactions while at my home, I have to question whether one girl in particular is truly vested in her friendship with Alyssa or just using Alyssa to get to her older brother. At any rate, I'm now digressing. 


Alyssa was trying to tell me how wonderful they were, and how she can be friends with whoever she wants, and I couldn't help but smirk because of the idea that she truly has no idea how much I CAN influence who she hangs out with..homeschool anyone? And my smirk sent her over the edge into a fit of rage I have not seen very often from my daughter. And she then muttered the words, "You know what? You don't know my friends just because you've seen them at our house a few times! I like my friends and I THOUGHT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE A ROLE MODEL FOR ME ANYWAY!" I was and still am taken aback by this comment. She could have said anything else to me; I hate you, you're an asshole, go to Hell, and it would not have had hurt...no killed me the way that comment did. And, where on earth did that comment come from?


I've stepped back, and took a look at myself and what kind of person I am...obviously I'm still doing that. I don't know where I have failed. I'm a mom, which I get it, not everyone wants kids, and that's great. I don't expect my daughter to have kids. I've gone back to school to obtain my Psychology degree (which I now find funny given my relationship dynamic with my daughter), I volunteer, I've overhauled my lifestyle into a much healthier one so that I can be here for Alyssa and my boys...but most of all I am always here for them if they need me. Where am I going wrong? All this time, I believed that I was a great role model for my daughter...and now I just feel confused. What is she looking for in a role model? Is she looking toward her friends to be role models? 


This morning over breakfast, we talked about what happened yesterday, and I apologized for coming off like I was mad when I really was just irritated. I even apologized for being judgmental of her friends. Alyssa apologized for yelling at me and slamming my car door...but she never apologized for her comment that has now penetrated my self conscious and has me questioning why I am not good enough? I realize that in the heat of anger, some people will lash out with the most hurtful of words. Some will throw out some whoppers designed to inflict maximum damage, but wow, looking back at our argument in retrospect is positively mind numbing and heartbreaking for me. So, I concluded our conversation with, "I'm not sure what kind of role model that you are searching for, but I truly hope that you find what you are looking for, and able to achieve that." I didn't know what to say; I didn't want to sound passive aggressive. I still want to know what she is looking for. I don't want her to walk in my shoes, but I hope very much for her to be a strong woman. I just hope that she is able to find someone like that to emulate.

Yeah, I'm "That" Mom...

The last day of school before the holidays was the sixteenth of December. Normally during breaks from school, I will have the kids do some sort of work to keep their minds going..at the very least I will make them read for thirty minutes a day. However, I will fully admit that by Friday, the sixteenth, I was completely done and over the school thing. Chalk it up to my lack of sleep, missing Dave, the boys being difficult in the mornings, or struggling with Anthony to get him to do his homework; when we returned home that day, the backpacks were hung up in the cubby, and I honestly did not give them a second thought until yesterday morning when it was time to pull them off the hooks, as he kids finally went back to school.(YAY!!!)


It was seven-thirty in the morning, and surprisingly, things were running so smoothly; almost like a well oiled machine. For the first time this school year (since the first week of school), I was not begging one of the boys to hurry up, I wasn't desperately looking for one of Hunter's shoes that he failed to put in his cubby the day before, and I wasn't dropping them off at seven-fifty-eight when the tardy bell rings at eight o'clock. I have to say that dropping them off late is awful. I liken it to the "walk of shame" that you hear of some girls doing in college. You have to get out of your car and physically walk your child to the office, and then give an explanation as to why they are late. God forbid that you, yourself are running late and leave the house sans make-up, hair pulled back in a pony tail, wearing sweats, t-shirt, Ugg boots..all covered up in an oversized cardigan as if to hide the fact that you look like death warmed over. What makes it worse is when the principal sends home a nasty gram telling you that your child has "X" number of tardies, and proceeds to scold you as to the importance of your child being on time.(Yes, I can attest to this as I have received this letter.)


Nonetheless, yesterday this was not the case. The boys were ready to go without complaint, with shoes in place by seven thirty-five. You will never know how happy this made me. However, that emotion was quickly dissolved when Anthony opened his back pack only to find ten pages of math that were assigned for each day of vacation...10 PAGES! I was mortified. I never looked in their bags the entire winter break. I never made them do anything remotely close to school work aside from reading.


Alas, I completely own up to this. I dropped the ball. Do I believe that Anthony may have known about the homework?..Yes. However, he is eight, and I don't expect him to exercise that sort of responsibility yet. He is a child, and therefore still thinks like a child. There is a reason that children cannot babysit until they are twelve or thirteen..they lack responsibility. It would be different if he was eleven or twelve and knew better. Having said that, ultimately, I am his parent and regardless of his age, it is my responsibility to make sure that things like this don't happen, and I fully admit that--I slipped up.


At any rate, I sent him to school without the homework. I'm guessing that I was not the only parent who did not push the homework as Anthony never said a word regarding the fact that he was "the only one who didn't turn in homework." Anthony is always very good at letting me know when I've messed up. So much so, I'm thinking that of my four kids, he would be the best suited to be a priest because he's definitely good at dishing out guilt. With that in mind, I'm not too worried about my recent short coming in the Mom department. However, in the future I will most certainly make a point to check backpacks when the kids have a break from school. 

Reasons Why Being Married To The Army Is Fun, 2nd Edition

Here it is, the 2nd edition of why being married to the Army is fun...Better late than never I always say. I realize that just a couple of days ago, I posted about how hard this deployment has been on my sleep schedule. Of course, once again, sleep is still eluding me as it is four o'clock in the morning and I am still up. Deployment aside, Dave's job allows for great social opportunities with wonderful people that we may not have otherwise met. The group of ladies in the photo above are a small group of the spouses married to some of the leaders in our squadron. We got together earlier this month for what is called a "coffee." Basically, it was a few hours to hang out, have some food and drinks (which this month was spiced cider made wicked good with the addition of Captain Morgan by Kristine!)


During this particular get together, the theme was an Ugly Sweater party, along with a "Dirty Santa" White Elephant gift exchange. The idea behind the Dirty Santa was to lift our spirits through either re-gifting a previously received-unwanted gift, or a gag gift, or just something inexpensive. Most of these gals were very nice and gave nice gifts like candles and Starbuck's gift cards. And SOME were kind of "dirty" in their gift giving which made for much needed laughter!

At the end of the evening, we all walked away not feeling so glum. We definitely missed some of the girls that were unable to come, but look forward to seeing them at future get togethers. Friendship and companionship are wonderful bonds created in this atmosphere. It's because of our spouses that we are brought together, and that is priceless given the time that we must spend apart from our loved ones. We will all eventually part ways, and some of us may not speak again, but some of us will remain life long friends no matter where we end up in the future.


They will be true friends who even though they are in Colorado, and you are in Washington, they will stay up with you until one in the morning playing "Words With Friends" over the phone because they know that you can't sleep. Or they will be the friend that will stay by your side for fifteen hours of labor even after you've barked at them, "why are your hands so damn hot?" while they are rubbing your aching back in place of your husband who is half way across the world! They will be the ones that stick it out with you through the deployments and field problems throughout yours and their spouse's careers, and when you look back, you cannot imagine your life without them.If ever there was a gift that comes out of being married to the Army, friendship is truly the one thing that I cherish. 

Insomnia...

I had the idea when we found out that Dave was going to deploy that I would create my own version of a "Project 365" blog in correspondence to him being gone. It seemed easy enough; he would be gone for a year, I should be able to write about our days while he is gone. What I never anticipated was that I would not be able to bring myself to actually write about him leaving us. God knows that I have tried, and try as I might, I have not been able to put those feelings to paper--or in this case keyboard. I have only been able to talk about my feelings in regards to his departure to a very small circle, and writing about it I guess made the situation too real for me, and honestly it makes me feel too fragile. I say fragile, because I don't like the word weak. I don't identify myself with that word, and I've always prided myself on the fact that Dave said that he couldn't have married a more perfect wife for his line of work. On the other hand, he has also referred to me on occasion as "the ice queen" as I have been known to be somewhat cold and distant. Given his opinions, somehow, the word weak doesn't seem to fit.

Today marks exactly a month since he left, and I guess by now everything concerned with David being gone should feel REAL. I guess that is where my disconnect is. I have spent so much time in this last month avoiding the idea that he has left that I have made this so much harder on myself than it needed to be.

          This is the moon the night Dave left 28 Nov 2011


I returned home the night that I dropped him off to a quiet house, and I stifled the tears that I probably should have cried. Instead, I sat at my computer with the intent of blogging my heart out about my feelings, and all I could do was look at Facebook, upload a few photos, and update my status. I gave myself twelve hours to pull myself together, and put on a strong face, and be the role model that I should be. However, by doing this, I now realize that I was just delaying the inevitable, proverbial ripping off of the bandaid. 

Things were going very well for the first two weeks that he was gone. The household was running smoothly, the kids were in bed on time, the dishes were done after dinner, and I was going to bed by ten o'clock every night. About two and a half weeks in, I began having problems going to sleep. First, I would lie in bed and my mind would begin to race, and then it progressed to a point where I would be so tired,and as soon as I would walk into my empty bedroom my heart would begin to pound, and I wouldn't be able breath. Bedtime had become an event that I dreaded.By my own doing, I developed Separation Anxiety over my husband not being here. Say what??? Gosh that sounds so silly--and dare I say weak?

However, as silly as it sounds this anxiety is what is allowing me to be up writing this blog at three-thirty in the morning when I should be in bed sleeping. But, sleep eludes me...thank goodness the kids are still on winter break!

So, it is in the spirit of the New Year, and new beginnings, and my desire to move past this anxiety and be able to sleep, that I am ripping off this bandaid. I have finally allowed myself to cry tonight over this blog..partially because I feel like such a schmuck because I have always subscribed to the idea that crying is not going to change the situation, but mostly because this is the first time that I have allowed myself to truly FEEL this deployment--the emptiness of David's absence as well as the joy of anticipation that he will be back again.

This coming year holds so many milestones for everyone in our family and accomplishments to be made and be proud of. With the joy of those milestones will also be the empty pain in our hearts of knowing that we can't share those accomplishments together. However, I think I may have made one of my biggest accomplishments this morning with this blog. I allowed myself to feel emotion which is something that I haven't really done in years. I've rediscovered that it's okay to be emotionally attached and vulnerable to someone. I also discovered that it's okay to cry, because even though it may not change the situation, sometimes it just feels pretty damn good to take inventory of one's emotions and get them out.

Mr. Hankey...

Mr. Hankey Exists...

I know this because I found him in my main floor bathroom.

The kids and I settled down to watch “Dolphin Tale” this evening after our wonderful Christmas Day and dinner. The boys begrudgingly joined in after I made them put their new toys on their chargers. Ten minutes into the movie (that is based on a true story), the plot revealed that the older cousin was in the Army going off to war, and he gave his younger cousin a special gift while telling him that, “Family is forever, and don’t worry, I’ll be home soon” I began to second guess my decision to make them watch the movie. I’m thinking GREAT, he’s going to get shwacked, and this is the last thing the boys need to see right now with Dave being in Afghanistan. What was I thinking??? How could I have made such a faux pas? So, in an attempt to do pre-damage control, I told the boys that they could go back to their games, and of course they had been sucked into the movie by that point, and didn’t want to stop watching, with the exception of a trip to the bathroom by Hunter. 

Fortunately, we made it through the movie without any casualties. *I apologize for the spoiler for any who have yet to see the film. “Dolphin Tale” was a tear jerker for sure, but I still highly recommend this flick for an evening of family viewing. 

Once the movie had concluded, the kids returned to their normal lives; the boys went back to their video games, and the girls went into their room to check email, listen to iPod, etc. It was very heartwarming for me to see Jayson helping Hunter get through a particularly difficult section of his video game. I was content. 

It was when Alina went into the bathroom to take her shower and promptly came out and grabbed Alyssa saying, “You need to come see this,” and then Alyssa in turn came and got me and said, “Mom, you need to come see this,” that my evening took a bad turn, and we discovered that we indeed had had a visit from Mr. Hankey. 

Anyone who has watched the Christmas episode of “South Park” is familiar with Mr. Hankey. He even has his own song, “I’m Mr. Hankey, the Christmas poo, Seasons Greetings to all of you...” and a trade marked phrase, "Howdy-Ho!" Well, I found him in the girl’s bathroom. For when I walked into the bathroom, upon first sight, everything looked fine, until I turned my attention to the waste basket. There at the top, was a pile of poo, and on the floor beneath was a small puddle of water. Who had done this? WHO DOES THIS kind of thing??  My 6 year old son, Hunter that’s who.

First thing I asked during his impromptu interrogation was indeed, “WHY DID YOU DO THIS??” Hunter, “Because I was afraid to flush the toilet because I thought that (now tears are falling) the toilet would clog.” (insert rubbing eyes as a futile attempt to stop crying.) As I see his hands balled up, rubbing his crying eyes, the thought of HOW the poo ended up in the waste basket dawned on me, because I noticed dark brown crap (literally crap) embedded under his nails. “OH.My.Gosh, Hunter, did you pick that out of the toilet with your hands?” Hunter, “Yes (still crying).” “Did you wash your hands?” “NOOOO (sobbing).” As I quickly went to remove his poo laden hands from his face, I realize that his pajama sleeves were damp with poo water.

I lost my mind as it was racing with images of Hunter rubbing his eyes with poo laced fingers; on to him playing his 3DS and then handing it off to Jay who then also played the 3DS, so now Jay’s hands have been defiled by Hunter’s poo residue. It is at this point that I snapped, and was now screaming, “GO WASH YOUR HANDS!” Now, let me preface Hunter washing his hands by telling you that Alyssa happened to break the drain in the sink earlier in the day by yanking up on the plunger too hard. Just hours prior, I had sacrificed a beautiful Calphalon steak knife by prying the drain cover out of the drain. I had placed the drain cover on the side of the sink so it would be readily available when the repairman came. 

So, Hunter was now washing his hands, and I left the bathroom to go get paper towels and Lysol to clean the disgusting Christmas gift that my adorable son had left for me. I came back to a sink filling with water as Hunter had replaced the drain stopper back into the drain, and the water was getting higher and higher. Now, having to sacrifice Calphalon steak knife number two to pry the stopper out, I made Hunter sit in the hall while I cleaned the bathroom.

So, 25 minutes later, the bathroom was finally cleaned up, the trash removed to the outside garbage can, the wastebasket liner replaced, and floor cleaned; sigh, I have now calmed down enough to take Hunter upstairs for a bath. 

I am happy to report that we made it not only through the movie, but also the rest of the evening with the only casualty being my sanity. Hunter ended the evening being grounded from his 3DS for the rest of the night (which he was going to bed anyway), as well as for the entire next day, and I ended the evening by wiping down his 3DS with Lysol wipes, and drinking a glass of wine. All in all, I can say that this Christmas will be unforgettable for me, and I’m sure for all of my kids as well. I can now say that with some degree of certainty that Mr. Hankey does exist, although I would prefer is he stayed in the toilet as he definitely did not spread any Christmas Cheer. Merry Christmas, and here’s hoping for a Happy New Year!

Reasons Why Being Married To The Army Is Fun...1st Edition

I have decided that every Friday I will list a reason why being married to the Army is fun. Honestly, deployments, and work schedules aside, it truly is fun! If you're not part of it, you have no idea. So, this is my way of shedding a little light on the matter. So let me begin with last evening...

As I gussied myself up for the evening...totally ignorant of what would unfold later on, I decided to wear my black leather boots...the ones with stiletto heels. (The hubby likes them, so I figured, I'd be nice.)When we arrived at Famous Dave's BBQ, the waiter came to take our drink order. Given the week that I have had, I felt that I was entitled to a "Smokin' Tea" last night at 1-14 CAV's Hail and Fairwell. I didn't realize how large the glass was going to be, and before I knew it, I had polished off one, and had ordered another. So, you can only imagine my angst when I found out that I had to stand up on a chair!

Imagine me...tired from lack of sleep, slightly buzzed, in 3 1/2 inch heels with skinny jeans that I could hardly breath in. I get up on the chair, which by the way had a padded seat (All I could imagine was my sharp heel puncturing the pleather upholstery), whilst Dave's friend exclaimed "Holy Heels Batman!" which about made me pee my pants! Yes, I was now standing on a chair...waiting for my hubby to place a garter on my leg, without using his hands...and I was still worried that my heel would punch a hold in the chair...

Last night, I was inducted into the "Order of the Garter" an Army tradition specific to the Cavalry (the Army is HUGE on tradition).

According to legend...and the card that I received last night, "when Calvary Troopers went off for several days and weeks scouting, their wives, and girlfriends would wear yellow ribbons in their hair while their Troopers were away." Over the years, the idea has morphed into many different things, like yellow ribbons on the trees, etc. The Cavalry tradition has become that when a new wife comes to her first Hail and Farewell, she will be welcomed into the "Order of the Garter." The Trooper will bestow a yellow garter upon his lady's leg, and kiss her on the cheek for good luck.

I was unable to attend the previous Hail and Farewell, and therefore did not receive my garter...so they got me at this one. So, I'm standing on the chair...now on one foot while Dave shimmies the yellow garter adorned with the small, gold, crossed sabers up my leg. Thankfully, this task was uneventful, and my heel did not go through the pleather seat, and I did not fall while trying to balance myself on one foot.

For ever more, I am part of a special group of women...the wife of a Cavalry Trooper. As long as we are in a CAV unit, I will wear my garter to every unit social function (hail & farewells, balls, stable calls, etc.)

So, this will conclude my first installment of reasons why being married to the Army is fun.  Many, especially those in the non-CAV sector of the Army may find my above mentioned accounts a little hokey, but then again there is a saying: If you aint't CAV, you ain't...well, you get the gist I'm sure...

Happy Valentine's Day...A couple of days late.

Okay, so I realize that I have been slacking on the posts. Things have been very busy as of late, and I can't lie, the stupid "Zuma" game on Facebook has been WAY to entertaining for me! I cannot believe that I just admitted that. With that said, let me take a moment to reflect on this year's Valentine's Day, and the special relationship that I have with my sons. I have the most thoughtful boys, and all three of them will make wonderful husbands one day (this thought truly saddens me because that means I will have to share them!)

Anthony and Hunter both approached me a few days prior to Valentine's Day to let me know that they wanted to get me a necklace for the big day. I thought that was so sweet that they had thought of this all on their own. This past weekend, Jayson, Alyssa, and I had dental appointments, so David kept Anthony and Hunter with him. He took them to his work to help transfer his belongings from his old office into his new one. When he offered to treat them to lunch afterward, they both were very specific in their choices for lunch...both places where they wanted to eat were located in the food court at the PX here on Lewis, lol. Unknown to Dave, they had motives alterior to just eating lunch. When they arrived at the PX, both boys led my husband right to the jewelry counter. These two were on a mission, and somehow, they knew exactly what they wanted to buy, and where it was located (the idea that they had done such good reconnaissance scares me, lol). They left the PX that afternoon with bellies full of Taco Johns, and Anthony's Pizza...and a 14KT gold pendant that says #1 Mom.

They were so excited that they could not wait until the 14th, so they gave it to me that afternoon. They were so happy to give me that gift, you could tell that it actually made them happy to do so. While it's a little gaudy, and totally unlike anything that I would normally wear, it has earned a spot as my favorite piece of jewelry. I will definitely be sure to display it proudly around my neck!

Jayson was more subtle in his Valentine's gifting. Jayson has had some struggles in school, and he has been working extremely hard...especially this last quarter. Instead of buying me a gift, he got me a card. Upon reading his card, I was reduced to tears...

Dear Mom,


Happy Valentine's Day to you. I wish that your Valentine's Day is special, and I hope that my grades are good because those are your Valentine's present. I've been working my butt off to earn those grades. You are special to me because you helped me earn those grades. If it weren't for you and Dad helping me, I would have failed. That's why you are special to me and you mean a lot to me. So I will give you all of my love on Valentine's Day!

I Love You Mom,
Jayson

I cannot express how special, and how loved his card makes me feel. The fact that he took the time to actually write a personal message in addition to what the card said was so thoughtful. Heck, he could have written this down on a sheet of paper, and I would have loved it just the same. In reading his words, I see how much my son has grown, especially in this past year, and I could not be more proud of him. I will keep this card always, and cherish it forever.

My boys are wonderfully thoughtful. In their own ways, they made my Valentine's Day feel more like Mother's Day! While the gifts and cards are nice, I hope they realize that they make me happy just by being themselves...although...the gifts and cards are definitely a nice bonus for being a mom to such great guys! I know one day the time will come when they are giving gifts and cards to someone else. While the thought truly saddens me now, I know that I will be able to pull out my cards, artworks from school, and gifts from years gone by, and relive these memories for the rest of my life...or until my memory fails...