Dec 9 2011

VENT WARNING: Is this the spirit of the season?

Posted on 9 December 2011 by Kim

I just received the most hateful email I think I have ever seen, and it wasn’t even intended to be against me. It was from a friend, about the whole “Happy Holidays” thing. She wanted to start a FB campaign about it, to take back the holiday from all those “dirty non-Christians who don’t even deserve to be in this country”. WTF?! Really?! It went on and on and on with one mean, vile, nasty comment after another. She referred to non-Christians as worthless, evil, non-people, among other things. Well, guess what? I AM one of those dirty non-Christians and I am damn sick of being, at worst vilified, and at best “tolerated” as if I am something second rate. And I have spent 24+ years in and around the military, supporting and serving my country. I am 41 years old and intelligent. I think I have the right to believe as I chose, since the freedom of worship is extended to me as well.

And I guess I really don’t get what the big deal is if someone says “Happy Holidays”. The argument that this takes the Christ out of Christmas is one I think holds no water. At its very heart, any faith is personal. It isn’t about the songs we sing, the books we read, the churches we attend. Those are just outward manifestations of it, tangible representations, a joining of community. What makes faith is how you think, how you feel, how you believe, how you choose to live your life. No one can take those things from you if you don’t let them. Someone saying “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas” can’t take Christ from your heart and your soul.

I think that the assumption that everyone is Christian is an arrogant and erroneous assumption. There are those who celebrate Hanukkah, or Yule, or Kwanzaa, too. The phrase “Happy Holidays” isn’t even just about Christmas and comparable holidays. The phrase is generally accepted to include all holidays from Thanksgiving to the New Year. If I know someone’s faith, then I will acknowledge it with the faith-specific greeting. If I don’t, I will say “Happy Holidays” because I think it is wrong to assume that everyone is of the Christian faith.

It has nothing to do with disrespecting Christianity. I think the faith itself can be both beautiful and spiritually uplifting. But that is also how I feel about all faiths because that is how all faiths can be to those that practice them. I feel that assuming that everyone is Christian, or just not caring, is disrespectful. It is essentially saying that their faith is not worthy of consideration unless it is Christian.

And what I find most interesting, at least among those I know? That those of us who are non-Christian are not generally offended when offered a “Merry Christmas” because it is the good wishes behind the words that count, not the words themselves. This doesn’t seem to go both ways in many cases.

What kind of world do we live in when trying to be respectful of people from all walks of life is so vehemently opposed? Is this the kind of spirit that this season is supposed to represent?

Nov 9 2011

Ah, my long lost blog,…

Posted on 9 November 2011 by Kim

I am such a bad blogger. I used to make it a part of my daily routine, but I have definitely fallen away from that for a whole bunch of reasons. I guess part of it was just that I was so frustrated with my life that it felt like I was writing the same things day after day. I rarely get visitors anymore, especially with Facebook, so I guess I lost motivation, too. But blogging for me isn’t necessarily about the visitors so much as it is about the ability to vent for myself. It doesn’t help that I went back to school this fall, which has definitely added to the fray because I don’t seem to have two seconds to myself anymore.

I don’t believe in regret, but not finishing school has been as close to it as I have been. So I went back this fall, double majoring in English with a concentration in creative writing and in History with a concentration in medieval studies. I’m going full-time, 4 classes this semester, and I had no idea how much of a chunk of my life it was going to take. I study from the time the kids leave for school until bed time every night, and on weekends, too. I thought, before I started, that it would be much easier to maintain the work load since all the kids are in school. How wrong I was! I am always complaining about how the men of the house just don’t realize or give me credit for all I do as a SAHM. Well, I have realized that even I haven’t given myself credit. I think I took myself for granted. And that’s where I am having problems.

What the kids don’t get, despite repeated conversations before and since I started classes, is that I didn’t give anything up to go back to school. I was always busy as a SAHM before school, and now I have added probably another two times the work load. Add to it that Corey is deployed and it means that I need a little help sometimes. And it seems like that is a losing battle. I don’t expect much for them, because most days I can still do it all. But there are days when I just can’t. And on those days, I may need help folding laundry, or running the vacuum, or helping with dinner. And the biggest thing they could do is just pick up after themselves so I don’t have to. I just don’t think it is too much to ask that, if you have created a mess, you clean it up. That’s it.

I feel like there ought to be something I can say, some way I can make them understand. I feel like there has to be a better way to get some cooperation. But I am not finding it. It is all to easy to take a SAHM for granted. It has gotten to the point sometimes that I have seriously considered finishing this semester and not going back. But this is something I really want, and Goddess knows, I have devoted a good portion of my life to everyone else, my family especially. I deserve to do this. And if I quit, I might never go back and I would resent it, pure and simple. But I wonder if the cost is going to be my sanity.

Sep 11 2011

Remembering,…

Posted on 11 September 2011 by Kim

9-11. It’s a day none of us will ever forget. I remember it as if it were yesterday. I was still a soldier then and I had just walked in to Group S-1 when the news of the first tower came on. At first, everyone still thought it was just a tragic accident. I was in my Group commander’s office, watching CNN with my friend and fellow soldier Monica when news of the second plane came on. In that moment, we all knew that our lives had irrevocably changed.

Life changes in so many ways in the wake of something like that. It changes in the obvious ways, but it changes in a million, tiny ways, too. The constant deployments, the nonstop training,… all of those things are the obvious, expected things when you live a military life. But everything about your family dynamic changes, too. I was pregnant with Scott that day. Within hours, post was locked down and missions changed. Corey was immediately assigned to QRF, a security team for the post that operated in shifts of 24 hours on/24 hours on, 12 hours on/12 hours off. A month later, when it was time for Scott to be born, we had to schedule his birth with a planned induction to be able to have him during the 24 hour off period so Corey could be there. Even the birth of a child had to be planned. Corey and I were married about six months later, and even now after 9½ years of marriage, we have spent far more time apart than together because of that one fateful day.

It changed Donovan, too. That day was his 9th birthday. For several years after that day, he refused to celebrate his birthday on that day. No matter how many years go by, it is always going to take away from what is supposed to be a day of celebration and happiness. He grew up that day and in the days immediately following it, in ways a 9yo shouldn’t have had to.

But some beautiful things came out of that time and in the years since. The following Saturday was supposed to have been Donovan’s birthday party. But all of his friends were military, too, and all of their parents were now on 7 day a week work shifts. So no party. Donovan and I went to pick up his birthday cake and while we were in the commissary, he turned to me and told me that instead of taking it home, we should get more, and some plates, forks and napkins and take to my (and his dad’s) unit and share it with everyone because they deserved it for working so hard. So that is what we did. We took it to my office and cut it up and delivered it to every person in the company.

And the way people came together in the wake of tragedy was beautiful. Personal feelings and differences were pushed aside because there was something bigger at hand. People helped each other, supported each other. It was a side of humanity that was wonderful to be a part of. It is something that, as the years have passed, many seem to have forgotten.

That’s what we need to get back to. The feeling of community, of working together. That is what makes us strong, as individuals AND as a country.

Remember,… remember those that we lost that day and those in the years since. Remember, too, the sacrifices that families have made in support of those who protect us. The military, the firemen, the police, rescue workers, the myriad of volunteers. Remember,…

Aug 15 2011

Seriously?

Posted on 15 August 2011 by Kim

What exactly does it take for the importance of a given situation to get through to a 9 year old boy? I get that at 9, there is a limited capability of some things, but this is just ridiculous. There are times when the situation is important enough that the age card just doesn’t fly.

I am ridiculously and seriously allergic to mold and mildew. To the point that I am almost always at some level of sickness. Being exposed to more mold and mildew makes it worse. What wouldn’t affect a normal person hits me like an 18-wheeler. I am nauseous almost all the time; I almost always have a “burning acid” feeling in my stomach; I have respiratory issues frequently, making me gasp for air from time to time; my strength/stamina is definitely reduced. I get horrible headaches. And a mold/mildew allergy is a very hard one to escape as they are always in the air everywhere. So I do what I can to minimize it as much as humanly possible. Humidty and the heat of summer definitely contributes to the mold/mildew levels, which doesn’t help.

There are pretty simple things that can be done that make a world of difference. The first is to be sure not to leave wet towels, washcloths, or clothes around. I wash and dry towels every day to avoid it. I have told them all a thousand times that, if they really feel the need to, shut the door when they shower, but to absolutely leave the bathroom doors open the rest of the time so it can dry out. The second big things is to wash their hands thoroughly with hot water and soap when they have come in contact with mold or mildew BEFORE touching other things or me. Those simple things make a huge difference but it is like talking to dry wall. I am ridiculously sick of finding wet towels in their bedrooms, wet washcloths in the shower, and the bathroom door closed. These are such easy things for the people who share this house with me to do and yet they won’t. After as much time as I have spent impressing upon them the importance of doing those things and the difference it would make for me,… and nothing.

I just went rounds yet again with Scott over it. He found moldy bread, on a brand new loaf, which is bound to happen in hot, humid weather. He wasn’t sure that is was mold so he showed it to me. It was, so I told him to immediately throw it and the loaf away and wash his hands with hot water and soap before touching anything. So what does he do? Wanders around touching stuff and eventually rinses his hands in cold water. No soap, no hot water. How hard is this? I gave him specific instructions on what to do and it wasn’t that difficult. And he still couldn’t do it?

I am so frustrated I could scream. The things they could do are so simple for them but would make a world of difference to me and my health. Why can’t they just do what I ask, any of the millions of times I ask it? To them it is a little thing, but to my health, it is a huge thing. How do I make them care enough to understand? A little self-absorption is natural in kids, I get that. But there are some things, like life, that are more important and I just don’t think age is an excuse. And half the time it isn’t even about them understanding. They just don’t do what I ask. Like now. I gave him specific directions and he couldn’t even do that for me.

It hurts.

Aug 9 2011

Whatever,…

Posted on 9 August 2011 by Kim

Blah. That basically sums up my mood. About all I ever really feel like doing lately is cry or scream out of frustration/exasperation. It’s a fabby way to go through your day. I have started and restarted this blog post about a bazillion times today, trying to write in a more humorous, light-hearted way, but I have come to the conclusion that sometimes it just ain’t gonna happen. Too much stress in too many parts of my life doesn’t a funny blog make.

And I gotta be honest, no small part of me wonders why I care. A big part of the reason I have been having trouble writing is because I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. But it occurs to be that those that could get those hurt feelings are the very ones that clearly don’t give a crap about mine. Sometimes trying to take the high road is not only a lonely path, but also one that leaves me feeling like the road itself. Walked on and taken for granted.

It’s frustrating and exhausting. It frequently feels like I just can’t escape, even in my own house. Let’s just say that living in a house of males as the lone female can be less than idyllic. Besides the inherent bodily noises, smells, and general messiness/grossness, I generally feel like I am completely alone and being ganged up on. It’s all too easy for them all to dismiss me, in one ear and out the other, the lone female. Sometimes I think the word “mom” is a synonym for “feelingless robot maid”. What really bites is that the worst offender currently in the house is the one who is most definitely old enough to know better. And those attitudes spread. I feel like I am fighting a losing battle.

But it goes beyond the confines of my own house. Family, too, family that hardly acknowledges my existence, except when I reach out to them. Nice. I live 30 miles away so apparently that’s too far. I feel like a stranger in my own family.

And friends, friends who hardly ever talk to me or give me the time of day until they want something. I always love it when they ask you how you are, but really don’t give a damn. You try to talk to them and they either cut you off, change the subject, or (my favorite) don’t even acknowledge anything you have said before moving on to their favorite subject, themselves. Talk about making a girl feel completely worthless.