The news here has been flooded with a 6 year old girl (Hanna Mack) who was found missing when her mother went to wake her for school and then discovered hung in a garage not to far from here. They have the dude that did it in custody. The news had interviews of other parents who express their sympathy, like most would.
Then of course you get your know-it-alls, the ones that make comments like "How do you not know your child is missing?"; "How can you go all night and not discover your child stolen?"
I watched the know-it-alls, and thought: "my god, I wouldn't know. I check on my kids before I go to sleep, but if something happens while I'm sleeping...I wouldn't know til morning!"
I got angry that these know-it-alls thought that parents should just keep waking up in the middle of the night to make sure their children are still there...but at the same time I felt guilty because I would be that mother that didn't know til morning that they're missing.
So I had this in my mind all night (i'm proned to paranoia).
Well, this morning I had to take HB to work...again...and usually he runs around getting ready and I'm the one that grabs the kids from their beds and puts them in the car, it's been that way for most of the 7 and a half years we've been parents. Today HB thought he would change it up on me by him grabbing the kids and putting them in the car.
I threw on my pants and walked over the Sissy's room, where Nana decided to sleep last night. I stood in the doorway in horror, seeing nothing but an empty bed and an empty sleeping bag, my eyes darted from bed to sleeping bag and back again trying to figure out why they were empty. The first thought that comes to my mind is of course that they've been stoled. So i go to the window in a panic rush and seen it was still locked which left me confused with more urgency.
Thankfully, before I started screaming through the house that my children were missing (and some remember how I got when I lost Nana in the crowded Markt Platz in Germany during a midnight fest, I obviously found her), I decided to see if they were in the car. Thankfully that's where they were and I saved myself the humilation of looking like a maniac and waking the neighborhood.
Lesson of the day: You shouldn't change routine when the mother is highly susceptible to panic.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Friday, September 28, 2007
Webs, Weaves, and un-Welcomed opinions
Just like every morning, I get the kids and walk them down to school. And just like every morning I walk through the same spider's web; always right across my arms and chest. I believe that the spider had gotten sick of me routinely ruining it's work, so taking my lack of height into consideration, this spider decided that it would build its web a little higher. As we all know, spiders do not come equiped with a measuring device of any sort, so its calculations were a little off. Rather than relocating its web on my upper body, I (and probably the spider too) was surprise to have it end up all over my face.
Knowing that I had run out of cigarettes this morning, I had decided to put on my sneakers so that after I dropped off my daughters I could make the 30 minute walk to the nearest gas station....
Minding my own business on my way up to the Chevron, I walked peacefully. It is probably beyond obvious that for me to walk anywhere past my block I must cross the street. Unfortunately this given is not so obvious to some:
A largely overset woman informed me after I made my way from one strip of sidewalk to another on the otherside of the intersect that my actions were "dangerous."
I stopped, looked around and asked "Crossing the street?"
"Yeah, you've got that baby! That's dangerous!"
Acknowledging the extreme lack of traffic on the road, I gave her my most polite smile, knodded as if taking her opinion into consideration, and without breaking eye contact I returned her verbal opinion with my own, "So is over eating." Then I smiled the sweetest smile I could, and continued walking.
About half way to my destination I found a tangled weave on the ground, and wondered if it belonged to the opinionated overset lady.
I felt much less tense after I purchased and lit my morning cigarette, and so ignored the gentleman who shouted out his window a suggestion of the two us having relations of some sort as he drove past me on my way back home.
Lesson learned (at the cost of the opinionated lady): It pays to be annoyingly polite.
Knowing that I had run out of cigarettes this morning, I had decided to put on my sneakers so that after I dropped off my daughters I could make the 30 minute walk to the nearest gas station....
Minding my own business on my way up to the Chevron, I walked peacefully. It is probably beyond obvious that for me to walk anywhere past my block I must cross the street. Unfortunately this given is not so obvious to some:
A largely overset woman informed me after I made my way from one strip of sidewalk to another on the otherside of the intersect that my actions were "dangerous."
I stopped, looked around and asked "Crossing the street?"
"Yeah, you've got that baby! That's dangerous!"
Acknowledging the extreme lack of traffic on the road, I gave her my most polite smile, knodded as if taking her opinion into consideration, and without breaking eye contact I returned her verbal opinion with my own, "So is over eating." Then I smiled the sweetest smile I could, and continued walking.
About half way to my destination I found a tangled weave on the ground, and wondered if it belonged to the opinionated overset lady.
I felt much less tense after I purchased and lit my morning cigarette, and so ignored the gentleman who shouted out his window a suggestion of the two us having relations of some sort as he drove past me on my way back home.
Lesson learned (at the cost of the opinionated lady): It pays to be annoyingly polite.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Frustration
Somedays I become overwhelmed with frustration of myself. I wonder: what is it that I am looking for and what is it that I want? The answers are never straight forward and always contradicting.
Truth is, sometimes I feel robbed of my youth, I've went from being a kid to a mom, and then a wife. It isn't anyone's fault but my own, and really, I do not see it as a fault. I'm confident that I feel robbed sometimes because I have no life outside of being a mom and a wife. I'm either at home with the kids, or I am out with the kids. The times I am out without the children, I am at the grocery store, and oddly I treasure those moments when I am left with no one but myself.
I feel sometimes that I've become a robot within society's conformities, acting out motions that I don't remember fully agreeing to act on. I'm sure just one night...just one with me being Amy rather than the titles of wife and mother, would do me wonders. Really, I think I just need to go out and have a girls' night or something.
Truth is, sometimes I feel robbed of my youth, I've went from being a kid to a mom, and then a wife. It isn't anyone's fault but my own, and really, I do not see it as a fault. I'm confident that I feel robbed sometimes because I have no life outside of being a mom and a wife. I'm either at home with the kids, or I am out with the kids. The times I am out without the children, I am at the grocery store, and oddly I treasure those moments when I am left with no one but myself.
I feel sometimes that I've become a robot within society's conformities, acting out motions that I don't remember fully agreeing to act on. I'm sure just one night...just one with me being Amy rather than the titles of wife and mother, would do me wonders. Really, I think I just need to go out and have a girls' night or something.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Unease
It's barely morning, the sun as yet to cast it's light over Texas. My daughters are inside, all snuggled up on the couch enveloped with pillows and blankets. I am again out in my garage smoking (something I do too often).
Today was an early day, as we all got up at 4:30 to take HB to work; he is once again doing field problems. He's to be absent from the home three to five days this time. Though this time I harvest a terrible sense of dread within me about this field problem. It could be because I found out that they are to doing live fire missions, and the fear that resided in HB's eyes when he told me. He is not one to be afraid of live fire, shooting guns is what he does. Though he expressed a large lack of confidence in the men he is in charge of that will be shooting behind him as they clear homes for their urban warfare training.
There is something that should be mentioned about the relationship my husband and I participate in. We are not the most loving couple, our marital union is largely supported on our common senses of humor, even when we are at our worst with each other (which is actually very rare). I would not describe him as "Mr. Right" nor "the man of my dreams." I cannot even be certain that he and I "belong" together. It seems that fate had brought us together for the sake of having the children we're now raising.
Throughout our partnership, we have come to know each other very well, and though we may not be the most "perfect" companion for one another, there is an understanding between us that is beyond the comprehension of "love."
As romantic as that sounds, there is a large lack of trust from multiple actions he had taken in the past; and so because of my guarded heart I think of him as "for now" rather than "forever." I suppose that is my way of avoiding future pain; if there are no expectations then no expectations can be broken and so I cannot be disappointed.
Yes, I know, not the best way to look at things. It is the way I cope and the reason am able to still be with him after 9 years. And I know in the deepest part of my heart, it is not the way I truely feel. That was confirmed today as I was driving home after dropping him off. With silent sleeping children in the back, solitude on the roads, and the surroundings swallowed by the dark of night, I felt dread, I felt a loss. And for one single beat (the first time in a long time), my heart beat solely for him.
....hopefully I'll get over it soon and return to normal.
Today was an early day, as we all got up at 4:30 to take HB to work; he is once again doing field problems. He's to be absent from the home three to five days this time. Though this time I harvest a terrible sense of dread within me about this field problem. It could be because I found out that they are to doing live fire missions, and the fear that resided in HB's eyes when he told me. He is not one to be afraid of live fire, shooting guns is what he does. Though he expressed a large lack of confidence in the men he is in charge of that will be shooting behind him as they clear homes for their urban warfare training.
There is something that should be mentioned about the relationship my husband and I participate in. We are not the most loving couple, our marital union is largely supported on our common senses of humor, even when we are at our worst with each other (which is actually very rare). I would not describe him as "Mr. Right" nor "the man of my dreams." I cannot even be certain that he and I "belong" together. It seems that fate had brought us together for the sake of having the children we're now raising.
Throughout our partnership, we have come to know each other very well, and though we may not be the most "perfect" companion for one another, there is an understanding between us that is beyond the comprehension of "love."
As romantic as that sounds, there is a large lack of trust from multiple actions he had taken in the past; and so because of my guarded heart I think of him as "for now" rather than "forever." I suppose that is my way of avoiding future pain; if there are no expectations then no expectations can be broken and so I cannot be disappointed.
Yes, I know, not the best way to look at things. It is the way I cope and the reason am able to still be with him after 9 years. And I know in the deepest part of my heart, it is not the way I truely feel. That was confirmed today as I was driving home after dropping him off. With silent sleeping children in the back, solitude on the roads, and the surroundings swallowed by the dark of night, I felt dread, I felt a loss. And for one single beat (the first time in a long time), my heart beat solely for him.
....hopefully I'll get over it soon and return to normal.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Morning Announcements
Every morning I take my daughters to school, I listen to their morning announcements. Though I'm disturbed at times because the annoucements seem to make two subtle points - both contradicting the other.
They start off with the national anthem. Everyone in the building turn to face the nearest flag, placing their right hand over their hearts, and they all sing. Which is great, it's good that everyone in this school will know what our national anthem is (for being Americans, that's a plus). But they do not say the Pledge. Now, the Pledge of Allegiance brings up another thought of mine:
I never noticed it while I was in school and chanted the Pledge everymorning in a drowsy zombie like state of mind. Though when Sissy first started school in our little military community located in a small town within the Germany country side, the Pledge bothered me. It disturbed me to see so many young children seem mindlessly rehearsed speaking words that they do not understand. With this new perspective, it seemed almost cult-like, as if the nation brainwashes our children at a young age by having them pledge their allegiance to the country every morning, mondays through fridays for 9 months out of the year, every year. Being in Germany at the time, I wondered....during the conflicts that occured in Germany not even a century ago, did the German children chant a pledge as Nazis marched through their cobble stone streets?
Anyhow, my daughters new school does not say the pledge, rather they sing the National Anthem. For some reason this relieves me because more effort is put into singing than speaking, and it is not a pledge of any sort. On the other hand, this too disturbs me. Now I am not a good Christian, I don't even know if I would call myself a Christian at all, but I do believe that a belief in God is very important. I figure this Texas school probably does not say the pledge because of the controversy of whether or not to say "under God" within it. Omitting it offends some while including it offends others. So it makes sense that the safe choice is to not say the Pledge at all.
This would be fine if at the end of the annoucements, there is not a "moment of silence" taken every morning. What the "moment of silence" is for, or what it symbolizes, I do not know. But to me, I understand it as a religious act, whatever the religion is. This "moment of silence" demanded at the end of the morning announcements seems to contradict not saying the Pledge to avoid the mentioning or lack of mention of God. Also, the "moment of silence" seems to place religion in school in a very subtle, discrete and vague way. I've never been an Atheist, but I have known some, and I've never known them to take a moment of silence just for the heck of it.
They start off with the national anthem. Everyone in the building turn to face the nearest flag, placing their right hand over their hearts, and they all sing. Which is great, it's good that everyone in this school will know what our national anthem is (for being Americans, that's a plus). But they do not say the Pledge. Now, the Pledge of Allegiance brings up another thought of mine:
I never noticed it while I was in school and chanted the Pledge everymorning in a drowsy zombie like state of mind. Though when Sissy first started school in our little military community located in a small town within the Germany country side, the Pledge bothered me. It disturbed me to see so many young children seem mindlessly rehearsed speaking words that they do not understand. With this new perspective, it seemed almost cult-like, as if the nation brainwashes our children at a young age by having them pledge their allegiance to the country every morning, mondays through fridays for 9 months out of the year, every year. Being in Germany at the time, I wondered....during the conflicts that occured in Germany not even a century ago, did the German children chant a pledge as Nazis marched through their cobble stone streets?
Anyhow, my daughters new school does not say the pledge, rather they sing the National Anthem. For some reason this relieves me because more effort is put into singing than speaking, and it is not a pledge of any sort. On the other hand, this too disturbs me. Now I am not a good Christian, I don't even know if I would call myself a Christian at all, but I do believe that a belief in God is very important. I figure this Texas school probably does not say the pledge because of the controversy of whether or not to say "under God" within it. Omitting it offends some while including it offends others. So it makes sense that the safe choice is to not say the Pledge at all.
This would be fine if at the end of the annoucements, there is not a "moment of silence" taken every morning. What the "moment of silence" is for, or what it symbolizes, I do not know. But to me, I understand it as a religious act, whatever the religion is. This "moment of silence" demanded at the end of the morning announcements seems to contradict not saying the Pledge to avoid the mentioning or lack of mention of God. Also, the "moment of silence" seems to place religion in school in a very subtle, discrete and vague way. I've never been an Atheist, but I have known some, and I've never known them to take a moment of silence just for the heck of it.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Sunday Nights
"sssspppp" the sound of my cigarette as a light my first one since 45 minutes ago (that's estimated largely).
The only sounds filling the air in my garage (as that's where I go to smoke) is the clicking of the keys as I type this blog. (Which I must say is very addicting...blogging)
Today was an uneventful day at home. I slept in, which was nice, expect for when i realized that I fell asleep while on the phone and it had made it's imprint on my side: "call time 7:54" it said...wow, just about 8 hours on the phone, most of it spent sleeping. It was nice to know that I wasn't the only one that had fallen asleep as well as not having to go to sleep alone last night.
It's now 11pm, I've spent most of my day researching and writing a paper about politics and the power of office politics; not something I am too interested in, but good to know I suppose. I think I'm going to fold laundry and go through the Sunday paper...after lighting to smoke another of course. The garage is my smoke haven, a place of quiet escape...the cigarettes, well they are my addiction and sadly my life source as it drives away hunger pains and assists my caffinated self to stay awake, making the most of the precious 24 hours that are in a day.
I stopped, just now, from typing, gathering thoughts as to what I want to express; I looked at my hand, cigarette between my fingers. I watched my hand continuously shake and I wonder: is it from the toxins I voluntarily inhale into my body, the amount of caffine coursing through me, or is it the normal lack of sleep I experience, of course I suppose it could be the lack in food as well...looking at my hands and pondering about their rhythmic shake that has become all too familar, I consider another though: maybe I should stop bitting my nails.
The only sounds filling the air in my garage (as that's where I go to smoke) is the clicking of the keys as I type this blog. (Which I must say is very addicting...blogging)
Today was an uneventful day at home. I slept in, which was nice, expect for when i realized that I fell asleep while on the phone and it had made it's imprint on my side: "call time 7:54" it said...wow, just about 8 hours on the phone, most of it spent sleeping. It was nice to know that I wasn't the only one that had fallen asleep as well as not having to go to sleep alone last night.
It's now 11pm, I've spent most of my day researching and writing a paper about politics and the power of office politics; not something I am too interested in, but good to know I suppose. I think I'm going to fold laundry and go through the Sunday paper...after lighting to smoke another of course. The garage is my smoke haven, a place of quiet escape...the cigarettes, well they are my addiction and sadly my life source as it drives away hunger pains and assists my caffinated self to stay awake, making the most of the precious 24 hours that are in a day.
I stopped, just now, from typing, gathering thoughts as to what I want to express; I looked at my hand, cigarette between my fingers. I watched my hand continuously shake and I wonder: is it from the toxins I voluntarily inhale into my body, the amount of caffine coursing through me, or is it the normal lack of sleep I experience, of course I suppose it could be the lack in food as well...looking at my hands and pondering about their rhythmic shake that has become all too familar, I consider another though: maybe I should stop bitting my nails.
Introduction
I suppose I should make an introduction to describe the members that occupy my household.
The baby of the family, Ember, is a bustling toddler who just entered her terrible twos; her days consist of Elmo, Blues Clues, coloring on everything but paper, chasing her two older sisters, and making sure her mother is at one of two extremes: insanity and peace. I think of Ember as the child that balances my other two daughters, my yang (my stress)
Then there is the middle daughter, Nana. She had just entered preschool, has a passionate love for eating, and is the classic middle child who sways between wanting be noticed as a big girl like her older sister and wanting to be the baby of the family (which makes emotionally unstable at times and very sensitive), but never lacking in a great sense of humor and is constantly filling my days with laughter. Nana is my joy, one half of my yin.
The other half of my yin would be my oldest, Sissy. She prides herself in her artistic abilities, a natural born perfectionist, and believes she is faster than the wind when she runs. If asked to describe herself she would say, "I'm seven, meaning I am ALMOST a teenager!" Her attitude proves that to be true, which frightens me. Sissy is my rock, my strength, the meaning to my life.
Outside my yin and yang factors of life is my husband. In searching for words to describe him all I think of is the sound of crickets surrounded by the silence of the night, this desciption suits him well. He has many flaws though I see the potential of him to be grand in all areas of his life, aside from his own mother I believe I am the only one that sees this in him.
Lastly there is myself, I cannot look at myself unbiasly to give a short and accurate description; through these blog postings I suppose the reader can come to their own conclusions of who I am.
The baby of the family, Ember, is a bustling toddler who just entered her terrible twos; her days consist of Elmo, Blues Clues, coloring on everything but paper, chasing her two older sisters, and making sure her mother is at one of two extremes: insanity and peace. I think of Ember as the child that balances my other two daughters, my yang (my stress)
Then there is the middle daughter, Nana. She had just entered preschool, has a passionate love for eating, and is the classic middle child who sways between wanting be noticed as a big girl like her older sister and wanting to be the baby of the family (which makes emotionally unstable at times and very sensitive), but never lacking in a great sense of humor and is constantly filling my days with laughter. Nana is my joy, one half of my yin.
The other half of my yin would be my oldest, Sissy. She prides herself in her artistic abilities, a natural born perfectionist, and believes she is faster than the wind when she runs. If asked to describe herself she would say, "I'm seven, meaning I am ALMOST a teenager!" Her attitude proves that to be true, which frightens me. Sissy is my rock, my strength, the meaning to my life.
Outside my yin and yang factors of life is my husband. In searching for words to describe him all I think of is the sound of crickets surrounded by the silence of the night, this desciption suits him well. He has many flaws though I see the potential of him to be grand in all areas of his life, aside from his own mother I believe I am the only one that sees this in him.
Lastly there is myself, I cannot look at myself unbiasly to give a short and accurate description; through these blog postings I suppose the reader can come to their own conclusions of who I am.
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