Monday, March 30, 2015

Runaway Train

Good morning!

I'd like to apologize in advance because this is more of a rant than my usual blog posts, but it's time to put someone on blast.

Have you ever helped someone out and knew in our gut that you would regret it?  Regardless if it was being there as a shoulder to cry on, spotting them a buck or two, or providing them with a roof over their head...  Help is help.

I learned a long time ago not to trust people very easily.  I make sure to carry myself daily with a wall that surrounds me so I don't have to worry about any harm coming my way.

My family is a different story.

It doesn't matter if a person has gossiped about my family or wronged my family; if they see you struggling and you come to them for help, they'll try to help - to an extent.  They're good people.

We don't see eye to eye.

Honestly, I don't like to volunteer myself when it comes to lending a hand.  I know that sounds horrible.  Nowadays it's hard to find good/honest/loyal people.  I don't enjoy helping anyone that I know will not appreciate it.  I don't like to put myself in a position where I'm being used.  No one does.  So I don't really trust people; you never really know someone's true intentions until shit hits the fan.

Well -- shit. hit. the. fan.

I don't appreciate when my family lends a helping hand and the person they helped decides to run their mouth about them or threatens to "punch them in the face". 

Sweetie, you're barking up the wrong tree.

Sadly there is no helping some people.  It doesn't matter how hard you try, those type of people will never appreciate or truly understand what you did for them.

Have you ever saw something bad happening and couldn't look away?  I'm sure plenty of us have.  A lot of times it's referred to as a train wreck.  It's like you see it happening, but you can't help but watch as the train is about to derail.

This person who cried wolf is exactly that -- a train wreck

Let me clarify something:

You cannot help, but want to be the center of attention; good or bad - you thrive off of it.  You gossip and talk shit about anyone who has come in contact with you; again, whether they did anything wrong to you or was nice to you.  Any help given to you means nothing because you have no respect.  You waited until you could establish yourself and then shitted on everyone so you could run back to a coward.  However, at the moment that name is more suitable for you.  You are a pathological liar.  You make up stories constantly.  You complain about "fake" people yet you neglect to see your reflection looking back at you.  You're untrustworthy, a fake, and a liar.  I see right through you.  I think the right thing to do is quit using my family & grow the fuck up. You can save the fake ass chit chat, the pity party, and the sob stories for the coward you crawled back to.  I think you're pathetic.

The crazy thing is I wasn't best friends with this train wreck; I'd be wrong if I even said friend.  Honestly it wouldn't have mattered if I was either because she treats anyone with that label just as bad.  It was a new acquaintance.  My family opened up to this train wreck after hearing over and over about how unfortunate she was.  So no it doesn't have a direct affect on me, but disrespecting or threatening my family does affect me. 

Boo fuck*n who.

This is more proof [for me] as to why I don't trust people.  I'm not asking for anything in return when I help someone.  I just don't enjoy the backlash.

Again, my apologies if you were actually looking forward to my blog - I owe you an actual post worth reading.  This drama just has been irritating me and I had to vent.


Monday, March 23, 2015


Good morning beautiful(s)!

[my favorite cover by the way]

Everyday as some women put on their makeup and prepare for the day, I pretty much do something similar - I put on my face to mask how I feel.

I call it being an adult or a parent or a mother... [I'm still working on that because nothing seems fitting to me]  If I were to act on how I truly feel then my family and friends would feel miserable.

I've discovered as of late that I find being alone rather enjoyable [cue all the parents "mHmm girrrrl"]  Yes, I know at some point in time when you're constantly taking care of your kids/family you need a nice break for some me time.  But, that's not what I mean.  I like sleeping by myself, I like watching TV alone, I like the thought of going to the damn store solo.  I don't have to hear a billion questions about who/what/where/why/how, peoples' nasty bodily functions [boys are just gross], or a fussy baby who's a momma's boy.  However, much like everything else it also has a bad side effect on my thoughts; the quiet tends to lead me down a winding road to a dark/negative place in my mind.

*Over thinker - Party of 1.

I'm beginning to feel like my life is being played out like the movie Groundhog Day; it's the same thing EVERY. DAMN. DAY.

- Alarm 1goes off.  I turn it off.
- Alarm 2 goes off.  I turn it off.
- Alarm 3 goes off... Ok fine, I'm up.

Once my feet touch the floor, my morning becomes a blur and it's like I don't need to use my brain because my body is so used to all the same motions. 

- Check if my little big man got up when his alarm went off.
- Make my coffee.
- Wake up my newbie.

Now I can begin to get myself presentable for my office environment job [I'm still praying for the day I can show up at work wearing a loose top, & leggings with some combat boots] - so a blazer and black slacks with high heels will have to suffice. 

Then, pause.

- Scream part 1 for my husband to wake up

Apparently it's my job to make sure everyone's awake.  As for me, if I don't get up during any of my many alarms - we're all doomed.  So he'll either tell me to be quiet or say he's getting up [he's totally lying]

- Brush my teeth [so I can sip my coffee and have coffee breath..?]
- Do my hair and cover up my face [which is now covered in acne as if I'm a teenager all over again]

Pause again.

- Scream part 2 for my husband to wake up

This time he'll get up because he's realized he's running behind [aaand begin our morning rush hour].  On a regular day he'll dress our newbie in the clothes I've already picked.  Then once I make it downstairs I get to style his hair - or at least TRY.  Since we've swapped schedules and morning duties it spares me a little more time to get ready.  Once we've all left the house and reported for work, my day drags; it doesn't matter if I'm busy or if my workload is small.  If it wasn't for working with my close friends, I probably wouldn't last the whole day with my sanity still intact.

I'm pretty sure looking from the outside in, I'm happy/loud/funny - I've learned a lot of people find me entertaining; it's my defense so I don't have to explain how I feel.  I hate explaining myself & talking about my feelings; it makes me uncomfortable and humiliated. 

Have you ever had that feeling when you don't even know what exactly you're feeling?  [in my mind that makes sense]  I guess my only way to describe it is "blah"...  I don't feel happy anymore.  I don't feel excited about anything and if I do it's short-lived. 

I almost feel - empty. 

I feel like my love life has turned into an episode of Real World where we're more relatable to roommates rather than a husband and wife.  I feel like by the time I get home and be with my family that I'm almost on E so my patience and tolerance levels are very, very low

I feel like I'm so busy trying to keep everything together and constantly defending myself that I don't have the energy anymore.   

I've felt this way for months; slowly, but surely falling apart behind closed doors.  I don't know if it's the constant repetition of my bitching that no one is listening to me, the lack of companionship, my every-growing list of insecurities, the expectation that I'm Super Mom/Wife, the panic/nervousness of eventually moving, and/or the fact that I've become dissatisfied with my job - that everything is stressing me out to the max [hence the acne explosion on my forehead??].  If I don't already have a lot on my plate there's always something else thrown at me.  After a while I thought that maybe I had the Baby Blues, PPD, or depression, but I'm not a doctor.  I feel humiliated for even thinking that; it makes me feel like I'm failure.  I feel like suggesting that just means that I'm making up an excuse for why I can't handle or manage my life.  I didn't realize it would be this hard to have a family; my parents always made it look so easy.

I don't need a pity party.  I know I'm not the only person in the world who feels like the weight of the world is barreling down on them and you're already at the point your knees are quivering, just on the brink of giving out, from the amount of weight constantly pushing you down.

Everyday is a struggle.  As soon as that alarm clock goes off I DREAD getting out of bed because I already know what to expect - busy, rushing, chaos, boredom, assholes, demanding, idiots, annoying, tired, loud...  What if I don't want to be Super Mom/Wife?  What if I don't want to clean up after everyone?  What if I don't want to work full time anymore?  What if I don't want to cook dinner every night?  What if I want to sleep in all day?  I often wonder what it would be like if I decided one day to just stop.

Just stop.

I guess it's obvious that I'm still working on me.  I decided to try this technique where if I don't have anything nice to say, then don't say anything [this will probably be the quietest you'll ever hear(?) me].  I'm just exhausted and need a break. So for my next trick:

Step one, take it one day at a time.


Tuesday, March 17, 2015

My Prerogative

Good morning gorgeous!

Today I actually had an entirely different post drafted up, but this one hit closer to home.

Lately I feel like I've had to constantly explain myself; my decisions and/or my actions.  From my little big man questioning WHY he has to get up at a certain time or from my family questioning my parenting skills.  My feelings and attitude have and still remain as "I DON'T HAVE TO EXPLAIN SHIT!

I've just always been that way.  Me = Bitch

The way I see it is, it's my life and my consequences.  I will ask for your advice when I feel I need it, but it does not mean I have to take it. 

It's my right, right? [tee hee]

When it comes to my children, what I say goes.  They are my little spawns who I have to mold into responsible/fabulous human beings.  It's part of my job as their parent.  If I say they can have ice cream for breakfast - they can.  If I say they can dance to Britney Spears' greatest hits all afternoon - they can.  If I say they can stay up past 10 - they can.  Why?  Because I said so; I'm their Mom.  *Not saying that's what's really going down, so relax there killer.

It's my prerogative.

When it comes to my body, what I say goes.  If I want flaming orange hair, then I will make it happen.  If I want a piercing where the sun don't shine, then [ouch] I will get it done.  If I want to get a tattoo of a "W" on each ass cheek, then I will.

It's my prerogative.

When it pertained to who I liked (as an ADULT), it was my choice.  I believed it was my prerogative who I wanted to be with.  I mean it's my feelings and my body, etc.  So how DARE someone tell me who wasn't right for me!

Will the real dumbass please shut up? [that escalated quickly]

Sadly, this post is not about me standing up for my prerogatives as confusing as that sounds.  I'm sure a lot of my examples sounded quite outlandish and straight up immature.

Yes, we all have our prerogatives [plus I really enjoy listening to that song lol].  However, when your family and friends are telling you things like that - it's because they care and are concerned.  They're not trying to control your life.  If you would turn off your Defensive Mode and actually listened; they're trying to help.  If you're hearing the same thing from more than one person that's a flag that something isn't right.

From my experience I wish I would of listened to everyone.  I thought I knew what I was doing, I thought people could change, I thought I could rekindle that romance - WRONG.  I had so many people telling me the same or similar things, but I ignored them.  I wasted 6-7 years of my life because I was too stubborn to listen.  I was stuck on "if I want to do this then I can if I want because it's my prerogative."

If I could go back in time...
and change any time someone voiced their dismay about my crush or my lover - I would say "thank you" instead of lashing out or telling everyone and their mama that they need to mind their own damn business...


Sometimes you're so caught up in the moment that you're not paying attention.  I'm glad I've grown up and matured enough to have a better understanding of what it means for people to care about me.  No one is taking away my prerogatives, they're just voicing their concern.  At the end of the day you're going to do what you want.  It's like once you become the age of an adult [not always the mindset of one] you refuse to let anyone tell you any different than what you think is right.

Stop trying to rebel - you're supposed to grow out of that.

Be mindful of the bridges you burn.  Once you burn that bridge, you can't turn back around and try to come back across.


Wednesday, March 11, 2015


Hiii :)

To state the obvious - it's Wednesday; I'm (2) days late on my post.  I had that stupid tummy bug [thanks to my hubby for sharing ugh]

I feel like discussing a: "DEPENDA" aka "Dependapotamus"

For those of you who do not know what that is, here's the definition from Urban Dictionary:
"Traditionally a service-members dependent who is a stay at home mom that doesn't do a damn thing all day besides sitting on the couch looking remarkably similar to jabba the hut leaching off of military benefits and eating anything that gets too close"

Harsh, right?  I think harsh is an understatement; it's just down right horrible and mean.

Well that my dear is pretty much the label applied to any military spouse - regardless of the branch of service.

I never really heard the term until I began working on a military base.  I'm not going to deny that some of the jokes made me laugh every once in a while.  Once I became a military spouse I heard it more often after joining several wife groups on social media.  [ermahgurd] If you even mention that word on one of those group pages, you'll probably be banned [it's nuts].  I joined those pages thinking it was full of "support" so if I had any questions relating to housing/insurance/I'm running out of examples...  However, those pages are usually filled with girls asking for opinions on what to wear, what to cook, rants about their husbands or in-laws, what hair would look best with what dress for the ball, complaining about life in general...  I don't know maybe I have a different idea of what support is...  Or I guess the only support I understand is the wire in a bra.

If you actually think about it why is the non-military service spouse the one who gets all the lashing?

You marry someone in the military.  You move from one duty station to the next.  In the process of moving you make friends and lose friends along the way.  You move away from family.  If you have kids, they're constantly switching schools.  You are removed from your comfort zone.  You have to make new friends.  You pretty much have to start all over every 3-4 years.

That's easy though, right?  No.

If you don't work or you're a stay at home spouse, you're expected to clean the house/cook dinner/do laundry/etc. and never complain - whether you're 100% healthy or the walking death.  You're supposed to look like a Victoria's Secret model 24/7 because if you're not skinny/fit with the perfect hour-glass shape body you're considered fat/slob & should hit up the free gym on base.  Since you don't work you can't say it's "our" money because you didn't work to earn that money.  If you want to spoil yourself shopping for a pair of shoes or maybe get a pedi/mani, you need to ask permission or maybe you have a certain amount you're "allowed" to spend.

Doesn't that sound ridiculous???  Why are only military spouses scrutinized and held to these expectations, but any normal person isn't subjected to this type of criticism?

Don't get me wrong - I do believe there are spouses out there that intentionally marry someone in the military for their money/benefits/rank, etc.  I do believe that there are stay-at-home spouses who sit around and do NOTHING all day.  I think these types of people are pieces of shit.

I've never been offended by the term because I'm confident enough that I know that word doesn't apply to me.  I've always worked; even before I met my hubby.  I took care of my oldest and myself before I met my hubby.  I not only work full time, but I still manage to have a clean house and dinner on the table all while living in a house with 3 boys [that's including my hubby lol].

The audacity some people have to degrade a military spouse is beyond me.  You don't know my struggles and I don't know yours.  Your situation will never be EXACTLY like mine and vise versa.  I think being a military spouse has a lot of baggage.  You're held to some high expectations and are expected to never complain or feel lonely or feel tired.  You have to treat your active military spouse as some superior or king.  I don't.  I treat him as my equal.

Please remember that not every situation is the same.  It's all different depending on what type of job they have in the military.

Let's flip the script.

You're in the military.  You're married and have kids.  You always come home to a clean house, dinner on the table, and clean laundry...  When it's time for you to PCS, your spouse takes care of all the unpacking while you check in to your new duty station.  Your spouse enrolls the kids into school.  Everyday you wake up, throw on your uniform and head to work [routine].  Everyday your spouse gets the kids up and ready for school/daycare and then gets themselves ready for the day.  You spend your lunch as time for you to PT.  Your spouse spends lunch cleaning or grocery shopping or prepping food for dinner.  After work you return home to what?  A clean house, dinner on the table, etc.  You DEPEND on your spouse to hold down the fort while you do your job.  You DEPEND on your spouse to make sure you have dinner on the table.  You DEPEND on your spouse to handle doctor's/dentist's appointments or school conferences.  You DEPEND on your spouse to have your uniform washed.  You DEPEND on your spouse to have the mental stability to handle everything while you do your job.

Who is the DEPENDA now?

**I am NOT discrediting the military or trying to start some anti-dependa movement.  I love our military.  All I ask is that maybe you take a step back and look at it from a different perspective**


Monday, March 2, 2015

We Are FamILY

Good afternoon!

As we now enter the month of March reality is starting to dawn on me that October will be here before I know it.  As of right now I'm like "pshh that's 7 months away!"  But in my gut I feel like time is already flying. 

I don't want it to.


Because October is my husband's EAS.  He's going to submit to re-enlist and the odds are not in my favor.  Meaning more than likely I will be moving.

As some of you know my family is very close.  When one of us needs help, the rest of us are there to help [normally my Dad or sister come to my rescue].  I'm not trying to discredit the rest of my family it's just those two tend to take the initiative and make moves. 

When my Dad retired from the Navy we all packed up and moved to Illinois.  When that place just wasn't cutting it, we did the same thing and we all moved to North Carolina.  [Lather.  Rinse.  Repeat.]  That seemed to always be our game plan, but it came with the territory.  [Welcome to military life]  When my Dad's time was up in one place, we moved to another.  So FYI, I was not born in NC [that always comes as a shock], I just pretty much grew up here.  Actually, none of my siblings were born here; it's either the Philippines or Hawaii - I lucked out and was born in Hawaii :) [I was so young when we moved that I don't remember shit].

Anyways, I'm getting off topic.

So the thought of having to pack up and leave WITHOUT my family this time is depressing.  My game plan has changed. 

I've already heard that "hey, well that's what you get for marrying a Marine" or "get used to it".  Well guess what?  Shut the fu*k up.  For anyone to imply that I can't rant or get frustrated or stressed out over the thought of change is ludicrous.  Need I remind you, this is the type of shit I grew up doing!?  My family and living here is my comfort zone.

But this is the game plan for MY family.  So in some fashion I'm still doing the same thing, but passing on the tradition to my kids.  The subject is a sore one and it always gets me choked up or teary eyed [pass the tissues please].

What am I going to do if I need help?  Who's going to come to my little big man's soccer games?  Who will I have Subway lunch dates with?  Who am I going to TRY to schedule a family birthday dinner with?  Who's going to stop by my office and share random road rage stories with?  What about our big family holidays?

See, all those things are the things I complain about NOW.  As soon as my phone goes off - I grunt and complain before even looking at my caller ID; wondering who's bothering me this time.  When it's my birthday and we're all trying to coordinate a time/place to get together and have dinner to celebrate, but everyone has different schedules and often times there's miscommunication or last minute changes.  When my little big man has a soccer game and the coach isn't coaching like he/she should, I'm the one who receives all the bitching from my family as if I were the one calling the shots.

The list goes on.

Those are the things I should take advantage of.  At least I'm getting a phone call; that they've taken the time out of their day to talk to me for a good 5 to 30 minutes.  At least most of us can get together and share a birthday celebration.  At least they take time out of their weekend - mind you it's their days off - to watch my little big man play.

Sometimes we're so caught up with what's going on in our own life/mind/heart that we forget the little things.

I won't get to enjoy those little things after this year.

Honestly, I wish we could all see each other more often.  I occasionally have lunch with my Dad and sister.  As of recently I see my little brother more [I wonder why lol].  My other sister and her family make an effort to drive 4-5 hours to visit.  My other sister lives in a different state so I can't bitch.  I feel like I don't see my Mom and my older brother that much.  We all live in close proximity of each other; give or take 30-45 minutes.  I get that we all have our own shit going on, but sometimes it's one excuse after another.  If you can drive to Bum Fu*k Egypt every other weekend to do whatever, you can come hang out more often. 


That seems to be the reoccurring mission in life.  First you're busy trying to balance out your own shit and then more factors are thrown in so then it gets even MORE chaotic.  It's kind of like math [ugh I hate math].  You have basic math and as you get older it gets more complicated; so then they throw in letters to make it more difficult...  It's nuts!

My family will always be my priority.  People come and go, but your family will always be there.  Regardless of how much pain/heartache you put them through or whatever obstacles/loops you throw at them, when the fog clears - they were right there behind you the whole time.

F A M I Love You