Flowers in my yard.

They’re so pretty.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Photo taken by GrumpyDaughter)

The hardest part.

Mr. Grumpy has been “over there” for just over 6 months now. 

Before he left, I knew it would be hard to be apart for a year, I knew it would be a challenging experience but there’s really no way to prepare for what might happen or to anticipate the emotional “stuff” that comes with this situation.

In a lot of ways, I know I’ve had it easier than a lot of other spouses.

My kids are in their teens and pretty self sufficient, if I want to see a movie or go shopping I don’t have to worry about finding a babysitter. On the flipside, my kids are teenagers… (I’m fairly certain no further explanation is necessary.) 

I’ve handled bill-paying and finances for years, I was well prepared to handle that long before this deployment came up. 

I’ve done all of the yardwork for years as well, I was ready for that too.

However, I wasn’t quite prepared for how much stuff was going to die and/or break and need to be replaced. It seems there’s some deployment offshoot of Murphy’s Law I wasn’t aware of. 

Mr. Grumpy’s computer died, followed very closely by the Xbox 360 developing the Red Ring of Death (RRoD).  Luckily, it was still under warranty for the RRoD and all I had to do was send it back to Microsoft and have them send me a working one.  I’ve had to replace the Grass Hog, the telephones, the DVD player, have 3 of the windows on the car repaired and now I have to have the radiator replaced. 

GrumpySon had a horrific second semester at school this year and I was at the school, at least, once a week.  He’s small for his age, very skinny, he has a learning disability and is “different” so he’s often a target for bullies.  The bullying and teasing got taken to a whole new level and we went through hell.  I ended up pulling him out of school before the year was officially over because he was so stressed out. (He took all finals and passed before I did so.)   

But none of those things are the hardest part of this whole thing.

The hardest part is the loneliness. It’s not the kind of loneliness that can be solved by socializing with friends or by going out or keeping busy.  It’s loneliness for one specific person, that only that specific person can resolve.  There is no substitute. 

It always strikes late at night, when it’s dark, the neighborhood is quiet and there are no distractions.  I’m not tired enough to sleep, there’s nothing on TV and I can’t seem to lose myself in a book. 

I haven’t heard Mr. Grumpy’s voice in what feels like ages and I can’t just pick up the phone and call him.  I’ve sent e-mail but there won’t be a reply until I wake up tomorrow morning and that’s only if he’s been able to get online.

I know we’re lucky we communicate as often as we do and I am tremendously grateful for the technology that allows us to do that. Some nights though, like tonight, technology isn’t enough.  I want to him here, with me, and nothing else will do. 

I also know I’ll get through the night. 

There’s no other option but to get through it.

Yes, we felt it.

 

SoCal Quake

We’re a fair distance from the epicenter so, by the time it got to us, it was a fairly mild quake. Nothing in the house rattled, the pictures on the walls stayed in position and the cats slept right through it.

If I hadn’t been sitting on the floor, I might have assumed it was a sonic boom. But my tush was on the floor and it felt the ground moving gently to and fro for a few seconds.  Sonic booms don’t do that.

I did turn on the local news to see if my tush was right and, happily, found validation there.

Yet more open letters!

See this post for an explanation.

___________________________

Dear Small Grey Cat Whose Been Following Me Around and Meowing All Day,

WHAT?

Sincerely,
The human who has given you food, fresh water, clean litter, playtime, hugs, and several once-overs to make sure you’re okay.

______________________

Dear Refrigerator,

Please make something appetizing magically appear before me the next time I open your door.

hungrily,
Me

____________________

Dear Mulder the Small Grey Cat,

I appreciate that you want to put your toys away when you’re done playing.

However, people look at me funny when I pull a catnip mouse out of my purse along with my wallet in the check-out line.

Please go back to putting your toys in my shoes, I’m more likely to notice those before I leave the house.

Thanks for giving me an unexpected laugh,
Me

______________________

Dear Dog,

I really dislike your new method of teling me you need to go outside.

Please stop sticking your nose in my buttcrack and go back to nudging my knees. Please.

saying “No” to crack,
Me

______________________

Dear Lizard That Hangs Out In Front of My Psychiatrist’s Office,

I know I startled you when I passed in front of the bush you were under and I apologize.

You startled the crap out of me when you shot out from under there.

In the future, please don’t make me screech in front of my shrink’s office.
She might not believe me when I say the meds are working.

Thanks,
NotCrazy

______________________

Dear Printer,

Sometimes I really hate you.

Why does the “cancel document” option only work 2% of the time? Why the other 98% of the time do you become completely unusable until I uninstall then re-install your software?

Do you have any idea how big of a PITA that is?????

What should have taken me maybe 15 minutes has now taken more than an hour, you f@*#tard!

I have other things to do today! Gah, I hate you!!

______________________

Well, I’ve posted all the letters that were fit to print.

I’ve found writing these letters very cathartic and will probably continue to do so.

More Open Letters.

 __________________

Dear Maker of Axe Products,What exactly do you put in your product(s) that teenage boys like so much? Or, less diplomatically, what the hell is that stench?!? 

Yours,
A Disgusted Mom

——————–

Dear Pringles Chip Company,

I love your Extreme Dill flavored chips.
So much so that I ate an entire can over the course of one day.
They are evil, please stop making them.

Sincerely,
Going On a Diet Tomorrow

——————–

Dear Monday Morning,

We’ve been seeing each other once a week for 35 years now.
I think it is time to cool things off a bit.
Let’s see each other once a month, on a Friday afternoon.

Sincerely,
I’m Tired

——————–

Dear Self,

Now that the kids are at Grandma’s for a couple of weeks, you have the time to take care of several things you’ve been putting off.

Watching cheesy disaster movies starring Joe Lando on Netflix was not one of those things.
And the time you spent watching that other disaster movie that did not star Joe Lando and was about lightning is time you will never ever get back. Never.

Playing Fetch with the cat also wasn’t on your to-do list.

Nor was adding “in my pants” to the titles of several Madonna songs.

Get off your butt and do something productive!

Sincerely,
Self

——————–

Dear 15 Year Old Son o’ Mine,

Remember when we used to argue about the importance of showering every day and combing your hair?

I do and I’m glad you now do these things without being told. I’m glad you have taken an interest in your appearance.

However, if you ever douse yourself with Axe in the car, first thing in the morning, while I’m driving again, I will pull over, kick you out of the car and make you walk to school.

Sincerely,
Your Mom, who drove home this morning gagging and coughing despite having all of the windows and the moonroof open.

An Open Letter To…

There’s a thread on a message board I frequent with the same title as this post. In the thread, members write open letters to just about anyone or anything. Some are very serious. Others are hilarious. I’ve been a somewhat frequent poster on that thread and decided to share some of my open letters. 

Here’s my most recent.

Dear Sunny – my long-haired furball of a cat,

You’re a sweet cat and I love snuggling up with you at night and falling asleep to the sound of your purring.

I’m so sorry for launching you across the room this morning.

In my defense, I wasn’t quite awake. And you have a bad habit of hacking up hairballs on my bed.

So, when my brain registered that “HYUCK HYUCK HYUCK” sound you make when you’re about to hack one up, my first response was GET CAT OFF BED.

I had no idea that from a sound sleep, I could sit straight up, use my comforter as some sort of launchpad and toss you off the bed, while shouting “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

It was sort of like the “fight or flight” response, only the “flight” thing meant You becoming airborne.

Again, I’m sorry but I can’t promise it won’t happen again.

Weather People

I just got the following “Severe Weather Alert” and it struck me that Gusty Winds could be either a really great name for a weather person or one that elicits giggles from those of us who still find fart jokes funny. I mean THOSE PEOPLE who still find fart jokes funny.  Because I don’t.  I have a more mature sense of humor.  I enjoy LOLCats.

…GUSTY WINDS ON THE WAY…

GUSTY WINDS WILL DEVELOP ACROSS THE MOUNTAINS AND
DESERT BEGINNING THIS EVENING AND CONTINUING AT TIMES THROUGH
TUESDAY EVENING…AS AN AREA OF LOW PRESSURE MOVES ACROSS
CALIFORNIA. SUSTAINED WINDS OF 20 TO 30 MPH WITH ISOLATED GUSTS TO
50 MPH WILL BE POSSIBLE…ESPECIALLY IN THE MORE WIND PRONE
LOCATIONS SUCH AS THROUGH AND BELOW A CERTAIN PASS NEAR
A SMALL DESERT TOWN.*..THE WINDS MAY CAUSE SOME LOCALIZED
BLOWING DUST AND SAND.

SECURE ANY LOOSE ITEMS ON YOUR PROPERTY AND BE ALERT TO THE
STRONG WINDS IF YOU HAVE ANY TRAVEL PLANS.

*I edited out a specific location or two.

Truth In Advertising.

I have a thing for flavored lip gloss, lip balm, ChapStick, lip salve, or whatever you want to call that stuff you put on your lips to make them shiny.

My current favorite is “Fuzzy Navel” but I decided to try a new flavor today.

 

 

I like cinnamon so I thought this one would be a winner.
However, the word in front of cinnamon didn’t register when my brain read it.

I’ve placed a yellow arrow in front of that word.
I should have paid attention to it.

As I was getting ready to run some errands, I slathered on some of my exciting new lip balm, without giving it a thought.

A few seconds later, my lips began to tingle.
The tingling, although a bit weird, wasn’t an altogether unpleasant sensation.

Then I noticed a bit of heat on my lips, again, a not unpleasant feeling.

Then my lips began to burn in a most unpleasant manner.
I’m not sure how to describe the level of pain I felt, but it was something greater than getting poked in the eye and less than giving birth without pain medication.

My first reaction (and not a very smart one, in hindsight) was to rub my lips together.
This just spread the lip balm around a little more, expanding the area of “Hot”.

Then I, involuntarily, licked my lips and discovered this lip balm tastes exactly like those little round candies that I think are called “Red Hots”.

Tasty candy. Bad lip balm idea.

 

Anyway, I gathered my wits and wiped the balm off my lips with a tissue.
When that didn’t work as well as I’d hoped, I used a cool damp washcloth to wash off the remaining lip balm and the little bits of tissue now stuck in it.
That worked.

Then I thought, “Hey, I wonder if that irritation plumped my lips up at all.”
Because, you see, if it made my lips look fuller I’d use it again, on purpose.
I leaned toward my mirror and got as close as I could without going cross-eyed and examined my lips.
They did not look any different.
I was disappointed.

Now I’m not sure what to do with the rest of the tube.

I can’t just throw it away. I just can’t.
I inherited the “Don’t Throw That Away, You Might Need It Someday” gene from my mother.
That gene is responsible for the boxes fill with nothing but packing peanuts in my garage.
I have more packing peanuts than I’ll probably ever use in my lifetime but I can’t throw them away.
And I hate packing peanuts!

I suppose I could try rubbing the lip balm on sore muscles if I’m ever out of muscle cream.

It definitely has potential as a tool for evil.

Definitely.

 

 

 

This turned me into mushychick…

(seen on Fark.com)

Christian, the Lion Who Lived In My London Living Room

Deployments

I do not like deployments, man.
I do not like them, Uncle Sam.

I would not like them here or there,
I would not like them ANYWHERE!

Not to the sandbox,
Not for a year,
Dreading door knocks
And living with fear!

Not with the internet,
Not with cell phones!
I just want my husband home!

I do not like deployments, man.
I do not like them, Uncle Sam!