Well, it's been suggested by many, okay 1, maybe 2, that I start a blog. And while I have the one called "The World According to Jenn", this one is meant, or at least for now, to be one geared more towards my adventures, trials, tribulations, joys and sorrows of being not just a working momma, but a military one at that. Hence, the title, Momma Wears Combat Boots. I do indeed wear them, and not just as an obscure fashion statement a la Carrie Bradshaw or some Emo/Goth/I-Hate-My-Life-Because-I'm-So-Misunderstood way. I'm in the Army, and have proudly served since March 1996, so coming up on 17 years this March.
So I figured I would give an introduction, for those who chose to read, and then wonder just who in the hell is this crazy chick who seems to think all of the world is not only a stage, but her own personal one. And I know everyone who peruses this will forever wait in breathless anticipation to hear what I'm going to pontificate, rationalize, cry, whine, jump, jive and wail about next. This isn't necessarily to win friends, admirers or accolades, although, please, by all means, feel free to admire, befriend and accolade away! It's a place for me to tell you how I really feel. Cause sometimes, I just have to say it out loud. And sometimes, I have so much to say, and I worry that if I don't say it, I'll die. Really really. Or that I will say it only to learn that perhaps I shouldn't have said it out loud. So with that in mind, although I will do my best to keep it light, maybe even funny, I do need to keep it real, so there may be times when I have nothing funny or witty or sarcastic to say about the shit that's just swirling and twirling away in my mind.
Now, here's the deal. Please keep in mind that this is my page, and there may be times when I say shit no one else likes. And while in the grand scheme of life, I will do my best to not offend anyone intentionally, it may happen. And I will most likely curse on here. I may or may not put cute little characters in place of some of the letters in said curse words. And while I welcome comments, I suggest following the rule my mom taught me, and one that I violate and break with abandon-if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. Well, now, I suppose that sounds a bit dictatorial, doesn't it? Only say nice things, while I am free to say whatever the hell I want. Hmmmm...yeah, that's about it! I joke of course.
Ok, so I'm sarcastic and am prone to hyperbole (exaggeration). But while I might exaggerate a bit to get my point, I'm still telling the truth, which is what makes it enjoyable and funny,no?
As I mentioned earlier, I'm in the Army. I had my first, and only, child-a son-almost 11 months ago. I had him late, at 39, but I think it was the best thing for me. Hubs is a stay at home dad, and got out of the Army 2 years ago. Despite it being almost 2013, I would say we have an unconventional marriage. There really aren't many stay at home dads out there. My husband does so since he can't work as a result of his disabilities, and I love the fact that our son doesn't go to a daycare with aides and caregivers that I really don't know, and would probably never fully trust. So knowing any firsts DS has that I'll miss because I'm at work is smoothed out knowing that it's his father who will see them, as opposed to Miss Kim at the local daycare center.
Right now, I'm stationed in Korea, which, if served unaccompanied-leaving one's family members behind at home station (which is Texas for us), is a year long tour. Getting on the plane to come here was one of the hardest things I've ever done. My son was 6 1/2 months old. And he and Hubs needed me. I was beside myself on the long-dear-God-who-did-I piss-off-will-this-flight-ever-end flight. I wasn't worried about my son, so much as Hubs. Who was going to take care of him? Who would take care of him; who would remind him at 1300 to take his pain meds; to take them at bedtime? How was I going to give him 3 kisses at night, and in the morning when I woke up and left for work if I was in Korea? And would my son remember me? Would my boys miss me? And what about me-who would tell me to come home from work with that one word text that drove me bonkers, "Honey", when it was 1730 and I wasn't home yet? Who would take care of me? So here I am, in Seoul, South Korea. Trying to keep a smile on my face, a witty comment on my lips, and a spring in my step (despite the ice and snow), when sometimes, I'm just struggling to remain upright and not climb into bed and pull the covers over my head.
So I started posting on Facebook micro blogs for each day I was gone, Day 1, etc. And I tired to inject some humor amidst the pain. Hell, half the time I was masking the pain with humor. And I started to use it as a blog of sorts, but I'll be honest, I usually have a lot to say, and I can only say so much on Facebook on a status update before I feel guilty for taking up my friends' computer screen with my huge ass status update. So, as mentioned earlier, some friends of mine suggested I do a blog. And I do like to write, and not to toot my own horn or anything (toot toot), but I do write pretty well. Or at least I think so!
Here it is, then. My Blog. A place for me to put all of my random thoughts, musings, hopes, dreams, fears (white shoes and birds), and monologues out in the open for all to see and comment on. So let me entertain you let me make you smile...and we'll have a real good time...
No comments:
Post a Comment