Are you crazy? Aren’t you too old for toys? These are just a few of the questions I have heard recently, thanks to social media where I can post a joke, get a thousand likes and shares, but you share something personal like a picture of your new toys and people want to put you in a loony bin.
My kids are teenagers and the more they try to pull away and become these individuals who sometimes think they know everything, the the more creative I get on how to get through to them. It all started with a trip to Toys R Us, where we found a Lego – a Pirates of the Caribbean Jack Sparrow that fell off a clearance shelf. One thing led to another and we bought him. We took him everywhere, even to see himself.
But Jack has since lost his pizzazz because he’s been everywhere and done everything with us. This meant it was time to find something else. To be honest, I thought it was a lost cause. I thought we would never find anything because with two boys and a girl it seemed they couldn’t agree on anything. Some days I wondered if their different interests were purposely chosen to leave out the others. Until Supernatural that is. Then came the boys…
My daughter watched the show and came to us raving about it. So, as a family we sat down and we watched it, repeatedly. We spent time together, played trivia games, monopoly… anything with Sam, Dean, & Castiel attached to it. I was even grateful for the Classic Rock that we get to play in the car now, just because it was in the show. I, myself, love rock, so this made me extremely happy. It became an awesome way to spend my down time when I am not on a deadline and saved me from fighting to get my kids to hang with me.
Before we got the dolls, it was shirts, posters, and other stuff they would ask for when it came to the television show. All was easy to attain, cheap-ish, and something they could usually use. But, then came the conventions. You see I couldn’t afford to take them to the Supernatural Convention in Nashville this past February (With 2 adults and two kids, plus meeting their favorite actors, autographs, the whole kit and caboodle… well, they are expensive). My kids wanted to go and do the whole thing, but like I said its expensive.
Maybe it can be blamed on old age (35) on my part, but I didn’t see the point. The men are not the people they are on television. Maybe I have just stopped living outside the house too quickly. I’m not like the people I know. I don’t have a free pass to screw a movie star like some do, I don’t fan girl, and I don’t believe they are the people they play on television. All I know about them is the fictional characters they pretend to be, so meeting the real person when I love the character can lead to all kinds of things. One of those things can be disenchantment or it could be excitement. Either way I didn’t see the point, but I did see the disappointment in my kids eyes when I told them we couldn’t afford it. It made me face the fact that since I got sick we really don’t do many outings as a family, which probably has a lot to do with my attitude about it. So, I thought… Next year. We could save up and one of us can take the kids.
Then we got the news that my husband would move. The Army is never satisfied to leave you in one place, especially after you purchase your home. I believe they have you on an alert system, as soon as VA backs your loan you have to move. Him moving means we are going to have to find a way to pay a mortgage and rent. Authoring actually costs you money, so my job is a deficit on us. Soon we will not exactly able to free up funds for a family outing, and eventually my writing will stop. Knowing I couldn’t take my kids again began to bother me. It irks me that we don’t have enough to do private school and they will have to wait longer for braces, but that is life. As long as they are healthy, happy, and have what they need the rest is just a bonus.
My kids are now teenagers and we were losing them to the people on their game systems or phones, so I decided it was time to get a “new Jack” so – to – speak. Of course, I will embarrass my kids. I will act like a child again. I will laugh and make them laugh by being goofy.
They were meant for my kids, but the instant we opened them I was in love as well. So, with nothing really to lose I pulled out my inner child.
Day 1 was fun. We watched a few episodes at a friends house as we shared the guys and made cheesy videos like these. My kids actually hung out with us the entire night. No phone calls, No excuses to walk away. Phase 1 was complete – we were spending time together where no one was whining.
Day 2 resulted in a trip to the emergency room, but the boys came along. Cass isn’t pictured because at the end of the night he was curled up in my daughters arms.
Day 3 was an adventure. We decided to venture out and see what we could find around the city that would relate to the boys. A full tank of gas, 300 miles, and seven hours in the vehicle – no one whined, no one complained, no one asked to go home as we stopped to take picture after picture.
The Bobby Library… We let Sam drive, but only for a second. We let Dean have Strawberry Pie from Shoney’s Cass found Angels Road, but he was the only angel we saw. Took Sam to the courthouse. We let him be a lawyer for half an hour.We took Cass down to the creek and taught him how to skip rocks.
You have no idea how something so simple as a few dolls from a television show can bring your kids around. Seven hours in the car. Seven hours of talking, joking, singing, dancing, and just being us again. With my husband getting ready to move away, and my family coming closer it has never been more important to have a bond with my kids. You get used to the life as a military family, but we all have to work together or it doesn’t work.
These dolls did just that. When we were drifting apart and their teenage lives were taking over a act of childishness brought them back. And, no matter how silly I might look I will do whatever it takes to be a good mom, and keep the lines of communication open… So, to answer the questions… No, I am not crazy. No, I am not too old to play with dolls. The real question should be: Are you be willing to swallow your pride and act like a fool to make your kids smile?
I have. I will. I do.
Dean and I worked together and brought everyone together. I am excited to know there will be a season 13. My kids are ecstatic. While I still don’t get the point of conventions, maybe just maybe if we save up a little each year and they are still doing them we should be able to go in 2020. In the meantime, we will spend two nights a week doing family game night and family Netflix night with Supernatural headlining. The writers saved our family from eternal boredom, ignoring each other, and teenage tantrums. The entire cast and crew should be glowing with pride because I know I am not the only one out there that has this one television show in common with their family and friends.
*** In case the toy makers read this… We still need a Bobby, Crowley, and Charlie to be made so we can have our little plush family.
We even added to our family. Meet Reaper .
Reaper’s name came from the television show because he too loves greasy delicious hole in the wall foods. When we aren’t watching him close enough anyway. We learned at his first vet visit that something is wrong with his back legs. It wasn’t enough that he survived parvo after birth or that someone dumped him when they couldn’t pay the bill at the animal hospital, now there is something wrong, but luckily it is something we will not pursue until he is a year old and has grown some more.
The best estimate is that Reaper will need physical therapy once a week to learn how to walk so his legs do not swell and he will learn how to lay and sit easier so he doesn’t inflame his hip. The worst case scenario is surgery. So, we got him a therapy buddy for when the time comes.
Meet Colt, who is also fast on the draw and destroys everything in sight.
To add to the stereotype that I have lost my marbles I added videos below and a slideshow of our adventures at the bottom. For the parents who need to find a way to reach their kids – this way might not work for you, but don’t be afraid to go the distance and be a kid again to get them to hear you. For the fans- be careful of what goes bump in the night.
Title: All I Ask
Author: Elizabeth York
Genre: Contemporary/Romantic Suspense
My name is Devan Anderson and I am a photographer and the by product of a cheating father and a childhood evaporated by illness. I’m stubborn, protective, but I care more than I let on. What does a girl like me do when I taste life for the first time?
I’ll give you a hint. It isn’t what you think.
My name is Ian Jensen and I am a Pediatric Oncologist that works day and night with kids that prove to be braver than I. I am open to Nerf gun fights, having fun, and taking control. What’s a doctor who lives life by the book do when given a new chapter to live in?
Ask me again tomorrow?
What happens when a photographer set to live in the dark meets the doctor that lives in the light? What happens when our world collide?
Author Elizabeth York has been writing for about seven years. Located in the southeast, she spends her days drinking sweet tea on the porch with her laptop in hand. She has devoted her life to her family and her books. With the loss of her Father to cancer in 2010 she makes “Dear Daddy” dedication pages in each book and donates 10% royalties to cancer research.
Elizabeth was given a 2015 Author of the Year award sponsored by 31 blogs for her role in helping her fellow authors and her writing. She was also accepted into the Romance Writers of America organization in May of 2015.
People know my story. The mom who gave up her special needs son so he could have a better life only for complications and budget cuts to take over and send him into foster care. I was working diligently to create a relationship with my son and help do whatever I could to get him closer to us.
We have been very lucky in that department. He has been moved closer, but it seems it came a day late and a dollar short. I have been sick. It’s something that doesn’t show up in lab work except to leave doctors scratching their heads. It is something I have struggled with since I got Lyme’s from a tick. Some physicians tell me its normal from the damage that was done from the bug. Some even tell me I am lucky I can still walk and talk. Others tell me what my labs currently say and then push me to take any kind of medicine they think “might” work. I don’t knock any of it, I would love to feel better.
I have sunk so low that I do everything from a chair. Standing up for more than fifteen minutes is something I cannot do anymore. But because there is no diagnosis there is no code for the military to use to stop what is coming.
We are on orders for a new duty station. I knew when I married a soldier that it would happen. That is was possible. I have been to quite a few places, but we came to the location we are at now on a reassignment a few years ago and even though we are a hop, skip, and a jump away from retirement its time to move again.
Usually, moving is an adventure I can’t wait to be a part of. To start over somewhere new, but this time its a solemn occasion.
I will no longer be within a days driving distance from my son we prayed, worked, begged, and pleaded to get closer to us. I will no longer be at a duty station that has a hospital, which I spend about 20% of each year in one. There isn’t even a clinic on the base.
The worst part, the one person in the world I should be able to count on for support or to help me told me I knew what I was getting into. When divorce was mentioned I was told it was my choice. These are not the words any woman wants to here. Its okay to fight for the person you want. If you have someone that is not worth fighting for then why are you with them?
So, here I am pouring it out on my blog.
You are probably wondering why the person who is 99% happy posts, and smiling would post something like this… Because I am not the only one who has gone through this or will go through this. Sure, the circumstances might be different, but in the end I won’t be the only person who has had to choose between her son and her husband.
So, the moral of my story is to hug those you love tight. Tell them how much you appreciate them, and be grateful because you could be in my shoes or something much worse.
Ever read a scary story. The kind where you think you know the ending, you think you know what is going to happen only to be wrong every single time. That has been my life for the last five years.
April 2008 I went to the doctor for a wide range of symptoms that made no sense. We were in Texas and they tested for everything, but when everything came back normal I called my mom. I went over everything with her and she told me it sounded familiar because someone else in the family had something like it. They had Lyme’s disease.
We called my doctor and explained. He swore being in that part of Texas it was not possible, but they never factored in my weekend trips to Tennessee to visit with my dad who was terminal.
CDC states no one from our area has gotten Lyme’s from a tick…. They are wrong! I tested positive for it, took the meds, and got better. However, I can tell damage was done because I still had revolving symptoms (They were minimal compared to what they were before).
Sept. 2011 My husband came home from deployment and we decided to take our first family vacation that wasn’t a trip to see family. We packed up our car, buckled in the kids, and picked up my brother then we headed down to Florida. I spent nearly every year at Disney growing up, and I wanted my kids to make sure they got to see it at least once.
I still remember my left arm hurting and going numb. I remember talking to my aunt-in-law about it before we got dressed for the day.
“Tell your husband.”
Her words echoed because I knew that is what I should have done, but I didn’t want to ruin the trip. We boarded the buses and rode to Epcot where I sat next to my son and went up in the big ball. I had what I call mini black out spells. They lasted a millisecond, but I could still feel them. Waves and waves of feeling hot flashes and feeling like I was waking up every time I blinked. My chest began to ache and I started to panic.
This is the part of the story where you would think I was having a heart attack, but I wasn’t.
When we got off the ride my husband suggested we get something to eat because I didn’t really eat on the way down to Disney (14 hour drive). We went to one of the restaurants and got a burger and grapes. I ate, but I still felt horrible and the chest pain was growing. I walked away from my family. Leaving them to enjoy time at the park. I took the monorail and went back to the Shades of Green where we were staying. I tried gas relief, Tylenol, and even antacids but nothing was making me feel better.
I laid in the bed and slept until my family returned for dinner. We ate at the hotel only for the same mini-blackouts to happen with every puff of my cigarette or bite of my food.
My husband rushed me to Celebration Hospital where I left from fear three times. I just wanted to go home. Back to the hospitals I knew. Back where my family and friends were. Back where my father was buried so if I did die I wouldn’t be a burden as my family tried to ship my body home. My husband had to get them to sedate me to admit me.
Test after test was ran and the only thing they could come up with was a gallbladder attack. I knew better because I knew my body. I signed out AMA and traveled to Nashville to go to Vanderbilt. It wasn’t home, but they had handled my dad after our local hospital misdiagnosed him. They are considered the best hospital within a 100-200 mile radius. People travel from all over to be seen there, including me.
By the time, I walked in the doors of the emergency room my BP was excessively low, my potassium was dropping, my blood sugar was in the double digits close to my age, and every test they ran came back that I was dropping.
Still think you know what is happening to me? Do you know where the movie is going next?
Six days later Vanderbilt couldn’t find anything more than what the hospital in Florida found. Discharged and wanting to see my kids I left.
I have only walked out of a hospital in tears one time. That was that moment.
I followed up with my doctor who explained that something had changed. With every puff of my cigarette I could feel my heart stop, so I quit smoking that night. A full pack of cigarettes in my hand I lit one in the parking lot of the hospital and that beating stopped for just long enough for fear to settle in. That was all it took to walk away from smoking after 11 years of the bad habit.
Fast Forward two years. They decide to remove my gallbladder. I went along with it because they made promises of how I would feel completely normal again. Only that was a lie.
I have had recurring revolving symptoms from chest pain, numbness in the body, abdominal swelling, dizziness, elevated liver enzymes, positive d-timer (no clot), low iron, and more. It has only gotten worse over the five years since that first hospital stay. To the point now I can’t walk without assistance. I always bounce back, sometimes it takes a few days to a few months, but I am on the third month and I am not bouncing back this time.
My labs are good except for a little anemia, and a positive ESR, but my doctor assures me with some iron I will be fine.
I read this article online about a woman who also went to Disney and got sick. She has POTS. I welcomed the article because she is just like me. I’ve been accused of being paranoid, taking drugs, being a hypochondriac, and many other things, but just like her there is something wrong.
Reading her story was like reading about my own life. Only I usually bounce back. (Just waiting for the bouncing back part currently).
I haven’t gone public with the severity of this and have tried to hide it as best as I can. I have lied to people to get out of obligations. I have dropped signing events when I am bedridden. I have missed visitation with my oldest son when he does get to come into town because I am too weak to get up. I have even missed deadlines, many many deadlines because I am too sick to even type. My family has spent more hours inside an ER than we have spent with our extended family.
I wasn’t going to go public with this, but after talking to my husband I felt that the world (people who read this) deserved the truth. You all deserve to know why I sometimes go silent. You as my family, friends, and fans deserve to know that I am not ignoring you, avoiding you, or even hiding from you. For the author part of my life I leave a book order form on my website so if you miss seeing me at an event you can still get my books. For the family part of my life I make sure my kids are loved, educated, and I try to keep them from worrying about me. The rest of my life I take in stride. I do what I can when I can and hope that others will forgive me when I can’t and fail to do something for/with them.
I asked at the beginning of this post if you have ever watched a movie and never knew where it was going even though you thought you did?
That’s the story of my life.
If I have bailed on any of you… I apologize. I am truly sorry for letting you down.
We are so excited to show you the cover of Shaded With Love: A Coloring Book for a Cause!
This coloring book, featuring 75 designs inspired by your favorite authors & bloggers, will release on DECEMBER 14th, just in time for the holidays and all proceeds will benefit FREE2LUV, an anti-bullying non-profit. So get your one-click finger ready!
Illustrator: Jessica Hildreth
Jessica Hildreth, Vicki Green, Katharina LeBoeuf, Beantown Bitches Book Page, A.L. Wood, Noelle Bodhaine, Angela Coffey, Amy Briggs, Little Shop of Readers, Gillian Jones, Avelyn Paige, GM Scherbert, Jennifer L. Armentrout, also known as J. Lynn,Charlotte Fallowfield, Geri Glenn, Janine Infante Bosco, Christine Hughes, Cecilia London, T.K. Leigh, Jen Luerssen,Tiffani Lynn, Sister Spot Book Blog, MJ Fields, Jenika Snow, Jennifers Taking A Break, Reading After Dark, J.C. Valentine, Alyvia Paige, Maria DeSouza, Rhonda James, Mary Elizabeth, JL Long, J.L. Beck, Brooke May, Emery Jacobs, Amelia Sue, J.M. Walker, Annelise Reynolds, Harlow Stone, Katie Fox, Mary B Moore, Read and Share Book Reviews, Len Webster, Cat Mason, Elizabeth York, HJ Bellus, Stacey Lewis, J. A. O’Donoghue, JL Long, MariaLisa deMora, Alphas Do It Better Book Blog, Evan Grace, Niquel, Xana Jordan, K. Renee, Anna Paige, Elizabeth Princeton, Cory Cyr, N. E. Henderson, L.J. Shen, Kennedy Fox, K.L. Kreig, Ginger Ring, Relentless Book Chics Ramblings & Reviews, Leisa Rayven, Alyson Raynes, Emerson Rose, FG Adams, Stevie J. Cole, Gemma James, M. Robinson, A. Zavarelli, Books and Boys Book Blog, Heather Carver, HEA Bookshelf, Kim Jones, Rachel Robinson, R+M Photography, Angie Brashears
Releasing Dec. 14th watch here for pre-order links: Updates
Ever scroll through Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram for no reason other than you need to kill five minutes?
I was on a weekend hiatus filled with nothing but me and my laptop as I tried to finish three books before Monday. Around midnight last night I took a short break and picked up my phone knowing I shouldn’t.
I came across a post online. One that would stop me in my tracks.
How could someone being so cold? So cruel?
I have made mistakes in my life, and spoken out of turn as we get into later in the post, but I have never once ever been this heartless.
I have been a military spouse for a really long time. Married my first husband the same week I turned 18 because I thought I knew what love was, and I did love him, but not the way a wife should love her husband. He was my best friend and through deployments and life I stayed by his side. During our not-so-nice divorce we were still amicable. Never once through that pain or heartache did I ever wish him dead.
Makes me wonder how much hate has to be in someone to wish that upon a service member when I couldn’t get to that point even when I thought I hated him.
I took the screenshots that made my vision blur behind tears and posted them on my family page and my author page. You see I live in two communities. One where I am just another army wife and we all stick together, and one where I am an author which is a community inside a community. In some cases the two come together as they did when they saw the same screenshot.
Most were heartbroken. Others wanted to sob alongside me. Some messaged her hoping to make her understand it wasn’t okay to say something like that, but people like her do not listen to people like us.
The Army Wives.
Life as an Army wife has been an amazing journey. Even when we want to claw each other’s eyes out we stand by each other whenever someone needs us. We refuse to spit on or burn the flag. We have weekend cook outs, and talk each other through anything. We show each other respect.
During my time as a wife the most important thing I have learned is that we are able to adapt and overcome.
I made a mistake nearly two years ago when I started my author career. I used an actor as a muse. Not just any actor (apparently) while I had heard of him about some Entertainment Tonight drama I never paid attention because it was none of my business and I work a lot so television is out. I truly didn’t know who he was. I knew the name, but not the face, and when I found my blue eyed model I didn’t bother to check because I was still new and thought “No big deal, I can reach out later and make payments for my covers from him.”
Ian Somerhalder – he had the eyes my character needed, the adaptable face where he could show any emotion except an emotionless mask, and even the occasional five o’clock shadow. He was everything I was looking for in my character physically.
This was what my character looked like, but the problem is that I am me. I am always going to give 110% at everything I do, but that won’t always put me at the top. I am okay with it. I know my strengths and weaknesses which is why I never wanted to use an actor/singer/etc as a muse. When I get a story done, or get the series out I update the covers. I wanted him on a cover, but sadly someone of my stature will never be able to get someone of his to do something like that without winning the powerball and becoming the first woman president. It would take massive strides.
When I found out I had my mini-freak out and thought about what I was going to do. I turned to my army wives who are amazing at being creative.
“You may never get him on a cover, but at least you know who to cast if the story ever makes it to Hollywood.”
That was the first response I heard. One wife took something negative and turned it into a positive. In the author world I got told it was okay, that many people used him from some television show, and how I should watch it on Netflix. I appreciated their suggestions, but my army wives came back with…
“You could always try to reach out, but he is a busy man so what if we found you a look-a-like. There are a lot of men on the bases. I am sure we could find one that fits the description.”
I love both communities I live in, but they each get me from a different aspect. They both want to help when I need help, so then the question comes up… Why would I bring something like that screenshot which is so negative to the attention of others who would never feel that way and instead they thank our service members.
Because they get me.
They would understand that I shared it because I felt for who it was directed at and even more so because some of the people in my author world are military wives themselves. We have patriotism pouring out of us on the author side from the authors, models, editors, PA’s, and more. They support our service men and women.
I know some of you are probably like… Big deal you used a movie star. I get that I do. But you see I went against everything I try to hold myself to because I didn’t research that face and find out. I have to deal with it, but the point behind it is that the wives picked me up, brushed me off, said do it again, and go write your ass off. I used this as an example of some of the little things we all help each other with. Like unsolved freakouts, but these are miniscule compared to what I will share next.
The day we met
A few (like 10) years ago I was on my first deployment with my second husband. We had just moved to the pits of hell at a duty station I hated, but would eventually grow to love because of the wives I befriended there. My oldest (autistic) son was back home with my parents while I had the two smaller kids with us as we adjusted and bounced from off post to on post housing within months of our arrival, and within two weeks of moving on post my husband was deployed
My husband had been deployed gone five weeks when I got a call from my mom.
“Your dad is sick,” she said and everything after that was a blur. I had seen him sick before, but when my mom rasped out those words I knew. I pleaded with her to take him to the ER, but he didn’t want people to fuss over him. I told them I would call my husband’s friends at the Fire Department where he had volunteered for many years before we left, whatever I could do from so far away, but he declined.
I told my mom I was coming home.
My husband called the next morning and I told him I was going to go home early to get the kids from their dads during summer, and was going to delay admissions to school for them until we knew what was wrong. Then I scraped together every dime we had in savings to make the long trip. I arrived two days later to my mother in tears telling me they were going to have to do surgery. I got all three of my kids together and waited.
I waited for the doctors to update us.
I waited to hear from my husband.
I waited to see if I was going to make another drive to the hospital an hour away.
The life of an Army Wife is to hurry up and wait, so I waited.
My mom called a few hours later and told me that my dad wasn’t waking up. He was supposed to have woken up hours prior. I called my brother, and piled my kids into the car and drove. By the time we got there we were arguing as any siblings do, and the nurse came out and said “Your dad wants to see you both.” We went back knowing we were in trouble, but we weren’t. “It’s cancer,” my dad said to us both. He knew before the pathology had come back. I cried and swore to him I would give him my liver. I would let them have whatever they needed to save him.
He lasted a few days before checking himself out of the hospital to go home as they had given him a death sentence of four to six months. My husband wouldn’t be home for twelve months so I was in this alone. I couldn’t lean on my mom or my family. I refused to lean on my kids and my support system was hours away…. When I had to go home I cried the whole way, but I had to get my kids in school, and deal with the fact that housing only allows you to be gone 30 days or they take your house.
The entire trip my fellow wives called me to talk me over bridges that scared me to death. To let me vent while my kids were fast asleep in the back of the car. Some even just called to pray with me. I had to Red Cross my husband to even let him know what had happened as they went on a communication black out, and I didn’t hear from him since before my dads surgery. When they are deployed you cannot just pick up the phone and call them. Red Cross agreed to deliver the message, but it was still days before he could call.
I drove back and forth every weekend for as long as we could afford it. Then when we ran out of money I stayed at home on base with my friends, my fellow wives. I saved up for a couple months planning to go home at Christmas. I couldn’t miss Christmas, we always went to my dad’s side of the family and I got to see my Granny. The same family that my dad somehow held together. Without him around I don’t see them or hear anything unless it is on Facebook or I make impromptu visit to my Granny. (You never know who is the glue till they are gone)
It wasn’t very long after the trip that my mom called in tears. I couldn’t understand what she was saying and she tried to tell me, but everything drifted into a blur after “Your son hit his head and drowned. They are trying to revive him.” Some part of me died until I heard “They got him back, we are headed to the hospital.” I called in every favor I had which weren’t many left and had to rely on my exes new wife to go sit with my mom at the hospital and update me because I wasn’t there. I tried to Red Cross my husband, but the Red Cross informed me that because my son had been revived it was not an emergency. Once again my husband wasn’t there, but the wives in the neighborhood, from our unit, and the ones I knew from the internet had all come together and I wasn’t left alone until it was time to drive home and one even dropped her whole life to come with me for a month.
My son was fine, but I wasn’t. My dad was dying, my son had died and came back, my ex was being a narcissist and explaining why he shouldn’t have to pay child support, and my brother told me my dad was okay with my mom dating when he was gone. He didn’t want her to be alone, but as long as he was breathing I didn’t want to hear it. (Selfish, I know, but I couldn’t handle the when I am gone conversations yet)
Out of my mind I went to Walmart on payday weekend… This is a mistake every payday weekend, but this weekend I had my first overseas argument with my husband and hung up on him. Every second that he didn’t call back left more what ifs in my mind. I was buying bed frames for my kids so they could upgrade out of those cheap $30 plastic toddler beds with stickers for headboards. Only they weighed 300 pounds each. I asked for help from the manager when I found him and he sent an employee over. The employee wouldn’t help me so with leverage, two kids under five, and a miracle from God I got them on top of the buggy. I then proceeded to the check out line where the end of my sanity was reached when she asked if I needed help and I said yes, then she called the same teenage employee who came over and walked out with me.
When I got to the car he scoffed and walked off leaving me there. I was able to push the boxes off the buggy with a bang and leave them up against the car. My kids climbed inside and got in their car seats. They were tired, hungry, and wanting to go home. I pulled out a walmart bag with pop tarts inside and gave one to each of my kids then I waited. I called everyone I knew, but they were all out. I wasn’t about to call staff duty and tell them I needed anything this late, so I waited leaving messages everywhere. Three hours later… I walked up to a soldier and grabbed his uniform and yanked him over to my car and said “You are going to be a good fucking samaritan for me today.” He, of course, wanted all my husbands info because of my behavior, (As an army wife your hubby can be judged by what you say and do) but him and two other guys got me loaded up and I was ready to go.
I was thanking them when the employee came back around and said “Typical Army bitch, always get what they want.” Without thinking I threw one of the pop tarts from the bag. I won’t get into what happens when you do that, but will say there are laws prohibiting such things as throwing pastries. But you know who was there for my spiral? The wives… Know who was there to laugh with me? The wives… Know who took me in and kept me from having another meltdown? The wives…
My father did die eighteen months later. My husband had returned from deployment and was given orders to move us even further away. We applied for a compassionate and got reassigned back home where we were able to spend the last couple weeks with him awake before he drifted into the sleep that takes your life. My dad held on long enough for my husband to come home and tell him he could handle the wave of grief that we all knew was coming.
You know who drove all the way from the other side of the country to be at my dads funeral? The Army Wives.
Army Wives are a community and whether we like it or not we are all in this together. I was in tears thinking how wronged this army wife was when some civilian wished death upon her husband. In her shoes I would be curled up next to my husband with a first aid kit, defibrillator, Holy Water, and a gun so no matter what attacked him I could save him to be able to keep him for at least one more day. We always need one more day.
I knew when I married my first and second husband what I was in for. The every other year deployments, moving all the time, never knowing if they would come home for dinner each day, playing mom and dad to the kids, a sex deprived existence, and being their #1 whenever they need us.
The woman that posted the status in the screenshot seems to think that we get some kind of privileges because we allow the military community to come together to do activities. Last time I checked this was aimed at being family fun while keeping our community close so when someone doesn’t come home, and their families are notified they have all of us to lean on. I guess I am a rare person because I would let a stranger lean on me if they truly needed it, but it would seem most people only care about themselves and their hatred, unless they are in communities like I have in my life.
It is very easy to be a keyboard warrior these days. It is extremely easy to say things we don’t mean or react without thinking. I know I have done it, but you know what is great about being a decent human being… we can apologize.
I doubt we will ever hear one though. Some people know how to be an adult with sincerity and some people know how to act entitled behind a keyboard. Hence the laughter at the end…
So in closing:
To the Army wife this was directed toward:
Do not listen to people like her. Go to bed and sleep and in the morning hug your husband from me and tell him I thank him for his service. Then I want you to come back and read this from me to you. Thank you for your service in standing by your husband. It is a hell of a lot of work out here, but you are not alone, you will never be alone. If you need anything just give us the Army Wife bat symbol and we will be there.
To the woman who wrote such a hateful message:
I do not know why you feel the need to hate military. Churches, schools, and businesses alike have trick or treating and trunk or treating. There was absolutely no reason you couldn’t use your keyboard warrior fingers to google it and find one that is appropriate for you. But I don’t want you to feel like we get special treatment so when you can say that you live the army wife life you can come and hang out with us… The criteria is below:
- When your Husband deploys every other year
- When you have to play both mom and dad to the kids
- When you have to move duty stations every two to three years and live out of boxes in between
- When you go weeks without hearing from your spouse
- When you put up with sometimes horrible medical care (cause no one accepts Tricare Prime unless they have to)
- When you wake up at 5am to start your day, but your husband is already at work.
- When you deal with spousal drama and wives bickering because no one is getting laid (every other year deployments remember)
- When you have to talk a wife out of committing suicide because everything falls apart and her husband doesn’t know
- When you have to hide events till you know your spouse can handle whatever has happened.
- When you have to bite your tongue so the last possible words you say to him are not in anger.
- When you hold your husband’s hand and bury more people your age than anyone else you know.
- When you wear painful shoes, and have to act like your momma raised you better than what you have shown online because you are required to attend a ball.
- When you see the news of someone dying, but no names are mentioned so you have to wait and wonder
- When you smile for photos, but you are dying inside…
- When you have to deal with uneducated people telling you that they can’t wait till you get the death notification
There is a lot more too it, but when you live this life, we will be able to make an exception and allow you to participate in activities we pay for, coordinate, and use as military family builders. I however advise that you change your name, dye your hair, and bite your tongue because if you have learned anything from this it is that wives stick together and we are universal.
An Army Wife