Jan 31 2011

Where do you find it?

Posted on 31 January 2011 by Kim

Sometimes I think that is the biggest obstacle in my life right now,… the lack of inspiration. It is so easy to fall in a rut when you are a stay at home mom and wife. Your whole world revolves around your family until you feel like you have lost yourself. You feel like you aren’t much more than an empty shell sometimes. It is very easy for your family to take you for granted, to not appreciate you and all you do for them. That is something that I am having a very hard time with right now. I have tried and tried to talk to them about it, and it really goes in one ear and out the other. A never ending cycle that has left me rather lost and sad, completely uninspired about my life. I am alone, even in a house full of people. It is so much easier for them to ignore me and anything that is going on with me than to take the time and effort to do something about it.

We are running out of time before Corey deploys again, just a few more weeks, But I can’t get him to see beyond the end of his own nose when it comes to how miserable I am. If he isn’t connected to the xBox or the Wii, or the DX, or his book, it’s the iTouch. He hears nothing I say; I get grunts and grumbles instead of conversation. He won’t even tear his eyes away from what he is doing long enough to listen to anything I say. I am competing with completely inanimate objects for value and it sucks. It hurts. Last night, I left the room before 7pm, and I don’t think he even noticed. I never heard from him until I came out to get something more than 3 hours later.

I am completely uninspired by anything. I am bored and sad and nothing sparks anything in me anymore. I remember the days when I felt fun and interesting and I miss that. I miss having value. Where do you find inspiration when you are so not happy?

Jan 28 2011

The Diva vs. The Menfolk

Posted on 28 January 2011 by Kim

Where does it all go wrong?! Clearly, waking up is my first mistake. I have to get up 15 minutes earl every day because it takes that long to get my husband out of bed. This is a fact of my reality that never ceases to annoy the living hell out of me, as I don’t sleep much as it is. Having to lose sleep just because he refuses to rouse himself in a timely manner? Not fair in Diva Domain. And Soldier Daddy is a special brand of charming in the morning, too. Starting the day with such negativity is probably not the recommended way, especially since this takes place prior to the comsumption of the Blood of Life. And then I get to repeat this all over again when I wake up his sleep minion, Ty. From that point on, it is a non-stop nag fest to get the monkey butts to actually put some speed into their morning activities and to the bus on time. Fantastic.

I spend a good portion of time preaching to the menfolk about equality and the fact that just because I am a SAHM/W does not mean that I am any of the following:

everyone’s personal assistant
the house elf/slave
a piece of furniture
an animitronic representation of humanity
an idiot
without a life, thoughts, needs, or opinions of my life
existing with the sheer purpose/joy of serving others with no expectation of appreciation/gratitude

I wonder if using some sort of rocket delivery system would expedite the process of retention of information? Because clearly they have ignored the memo.

This morning was a perfect example of the inequality and lack of thinking. I had to wake Soldier Daddy up 15 minutes earlier, due to an incoming text on his phone from a soldier. Translation,… he is up early and has a block of extra time. One of the evil cats had barfed in the hallway, the cleaning of which is something that generally falls into my realm of responsibility. Now, I am on a schedule. It’s a school day, kids to wake up and shower, laundry to start, lunches to be made, etc. I am also hobbling about with a messed up heel. I told him about it, nothing. Not in the mood for an argument (yet), I hobble off to get the supplies. I am huddled on the floor cleaning it as he climbs over me, scratching man parts as he did, smacking me in the shoulder with his foot. Not a word. As I sit, I see him wander into the bathroom. Okay, the morning man pee. I get that. He finishes. He comes out and doesn’t even glance my way and wanders into the bedroom. I am fuming at this point. I mean, Goddess forbid he offer to, I don’t know, actually do it himself so I could actually stay on time?! I finish and as I head back to the bathroom to now take a shower at the speed of light, I glance into the bedroom. He”s just standing there, once again scratching things.

So, I point out the constant speeches about the aforementioned list of things I am not. He looks at me. I explain how it relates to the current situation, and the fact that it didn’t even occur to him to help out, despite the fact that I told him I didn’t really have time. Not even a half-assed “I’m sorry”. Nope. Instead it is my fault for not asking him. Seriously? He couldn’t see me there as he climbed over me? He couldn’t put it together for himself when I said I really didn’t have time? He can’t think for himself? Really? Not his mama. Seriously, dude. Get a clue.

It’s the little things. They add up and I feel like a giant blob of unloved, unappreciated uselessness. Until someone wants or needs something. Fantastic.

Jan 26 2011

WARNING: Bitch Fest Ahead

Posted on 26 January 2011 by Kim

I haven’t blogged much lately, mainly because I seem to have a real lack of anything positive to say. But then I realized that that is exactly why I have a blog, my own personal therapy to get the vents out. So that is what I am going to do.

My most recent Facebook status sums it up pretty well:

It is amazing to me how judgemental people can be about certain subjects/people without knowing, or even thinking, about walking a moment in those shoes. Why assume that everything is so black and white? There are a million reasons why a given person may make a choice and none of them are any of your business, so who are you to judge?

And 98% of the time, the person making the judgement has absoutely no clue about their audience’s experiences and whether or not the very thing they are judging so harshly applies to them. I find that to be horribly disrespectful. I am all for freedom of speech and opinions, but they are your own. I don’t think you have the right to dismiss and be disrespectful to those who have differing thoughts. Express your feelings, your thoughts, your opinions. Do so publically. But do it respectfully. Don’t assume that everyone around you thinks the same way.

I guess I have reached my limit with the judgements. I am tired of being ridiculed or preached at because I have my own viewpoints, viewpoints that may be a little more liberal than the masses. I may not be a Christian, and that’s okay. I may be pro-choice, and that’s okay. I may be pro-same sex marriage, and that’s okay. It doesn’t make me a bad person, a bad mother, or anything else. It make me ME. I may have different opinions, but I have good values. I believe in being true to yourself. I believe in doing for others. I believe that choice is a viable option and that no one on this earth has the right to judge that personal a decision. I believe in a loving family, in any form. There is a real lack of love among people and I think that love in any form is a beautiful thing.

And, really, can someone explain to me exactly why someone else’s personal life choices matter so much? It isn’t your life and you don’t have to live with the choices so why is it any of your business?

Part of living a full life is having an open heart. And part of having an open heart is having an open mind.

Jan 17 2011

WTH?

Posted on 17 January 2011 by Kim

I swear, the total cluelessness that goes on around here is going to make me lose what is left of my mind. I joke, or at least try to, but I am completely serious about just how pissed off and frustrated I am. Nothing I say or do seems to get through to anyone, but that would require more than two seconds of attention something other than a book, a computer, a TV, or a video game. And, Goddess knows, we couldn’t possibly have that. No, Goddess forbid, a human being actually have more value than any of those things. Goddess forbid, I have more value than those things. Can you sense the total sarcasm here?! No exaggeration, it is a literally a struggle just to get anyone to even look at me and acknowledge my existence, much less actually LISTEN and I am beyond hurt and frustrated and well into seriously freakin’ pissed off. I have tried talking about it, I have tried yelling about it, both equal failures. I have lost my mind and bawled my brains over it, with equal success. NONE of it penetrates their brains. Within moments, they have shrugged me off and continued on with whatever they were doing, promptly forgetting anything and everything about me. They don’t have to agree or understand me. They ought to give a damn enough about me to have it matter because it matters to me. I would just like to be heard, to be listened to, to matter to SOMEBODY! Without being dismissed, without being scoffed at, without being degraded, without being judged, without the overly defensive bullshit. But, no, that might mean that someone would actually have to do something other than put it on me or pay lip service to me. It would be great if once in a damn while it could actually be about me for 5 seconds. I am good enough to spend my entire life with everyone else’s needs coming WAY ahead of mine, but my own don’t ever even make anyone’s radar in any real way.

Something’s wrong with Kim? “Why don’t you go take a bath?” That, in my world, means that I should go away and stew alone rather than bother anyone with my problems, much less require them to take responsibility. Hell, even when I do, I get interrupted every five seconds for such life-altering questions such as “Can I have dinner?” or “Can I have some milk?” or “Can I play on the computer?” or “Honey, do you know where my <insert item here>?”,…! Or, “You should do something for yourself more often”. I like that one. When exactly should I do that? Between the loads of laundry that, chances are, that no one else will fold? Between kids needing stuff and the husband needing stuff? Between the myriad of little things that no one else is apparently able to handle? Yeah, that will happen. “Doing something for myself” is basically limited to taking a bath (see above) or getting up at the ass crack of dawn before anyone else is awake to be able to do anything without the interruptions.

There is a whole hell of a lot of inequality in this house and it isn’t fair. From money spent to responsibility to just basic day to day stuff. A prime example of the money thing,… I hardly ever spend money on myself and when I do, I am cheap as hell. When I got my laptop, I bought it, out of my stop loss money that I got from the Army. I spent less than $600 on it. Corey needs a new laptop before he deploys, fine. He isn’t doing anything a whole lot more advanced on it than I do on mine. And he intends to throw down $2000 on it. Really? For someone who spends a crap load more money than I do, that doesn’t seem entirely fair. Especially since he is planning on getting a $300+ iPod, too. It isn’t that I want to spend an equal amount of money. I have no need to. And it isn’t even so much about the money itself. It’s more about the fact that it has been made very clear that living cheap is fine for me, but definately not for him. Nice. The parallel between money and my worth in this family has not been lost on me.

I am so sick of arguing all the time, with everyone around me. I don’t think it is too much to ask for the people in this family to act like a family, to me, and to each other.

Jan 6 2011

Can I have some vodka with that?

Posted on 6 January 2011 by Kim

It’s probably not a good sign when I title my post with alcoholic references before 7am. But that is what comes with dealing with 4 sons and a husband in various stages of “duh” on a 24/7/365 basis. Sometimes I almost believe it is a Y-chromosomal conspiracy to force me into a corner, babbling and drooling unattractively. Either that, or it is some kind of contest among the 5 of them to see who drives me insane first. If it is the latter, they are fairly evenly matched at the moment, but the day is young so that is sure to change by bed time.

Being the lone female in a house of menfolk can be a lot like living in a locker room, without the hot, rich men in tight pants. It can be smelly, loud, obnoxious and frequently male-exclusive. It is like what I imagine living among aliens with a superiority complex over humans would be like, without the nasty anal probing, of course. In other words, I am adrift in a sea of testosterone. Without a paddle. Without a life boat for that paddle. Hell, most days I don’t even have the dinky red and white floating ring. Vodka would help.

I remember the days when I still had an identity. You know, something other than “But, Mom,…” or “Honey, do you know where,…”. <insert sigh> Once I was a soldier; I had a purpose, a mission. I helped other soldiers. Then I traded my combat boots for flip flops, and apparently lost my identity as a person right along with them. Being a SAHM is not an easy job. The pay is crappy, the benefits few and far between. There is no chance for promotion. Acknowledgment and appreciation are rare, and usually are recieved with the attitude of a lion tamer facing a truly pissed off lion. You know the one,… the “I need to calm this bitch down” attitude. All words, no sincerity. You lose all sense of yourself as an individual. Sometimes I feel more camouflaged now than I ever did when I actually wore camouflage! They don’t see me, Kim. They look right through me. Until they need something.

It’s kind of funny, in a really not so funny way. So much of life in this house revolves around all of them. They are each wholly concerned with themselves and their own lives, interests, and needs. All those things that are so important to them, but when the role is reversed, my own life, interests, and needs are treated as impositions, as burdens. As if by trying to be me as opposed to Mom/Wife, I am intruding on their lives. But yet I am the one that runs the household, takes care of everyone. I am the one that everyone comes to for help.