I got hit in the face with a ball

Yup.  I sure did.  The enlisted team and I were playing wallyball.  If you've never played wallyball before, you can read about it here.  It's pretty similar to volleyball but in a racquetball court.  It's wild, crazy and sometimes painful.  But it's a lot of fun and as nonathletic as I am, I always end up enjoying it.

For the past 7 months, I'd been in charge of the team while our boss was deployed.  It has been a really interesting experience.  I've been involved with each individual member of the team both personally and professionally.  I've had to discipline in a way that doesn't take away their ability to confide in me when their personal life is affecting their work.  I've had to constantly watch myself and how I'm portraying my own values and ethics.  I can't expect the team to be prompt every day if I'm always late.  I can't hold them accountable if I myself am running from my integrity.  It's been a bit rough... but pretty rewarding as well.

Before the boss returned from his deployment, the crew decided we should spend one last hurrah together.  So we did some glow golf (awesome black light putt putt) and a laser race (you know, those lasers in high-vis banks or museums?).  We had an absolute blast!

So for PT last week, we played wallyball.  I really suck at it.  I got hit on my right boob, bruised both my wrists, and took a shot to the face.  They laughed.  But they also high-fived me.  I'm going to miss being their leader.  They're a great team.

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On Love and the Past

"Honey, you know that stores do sell toothpaste with the flip-up caps, right?"

"Well, yeah," I answered, astonished how easy that solution was.  Patrick and I were just having a conversation about relationships.  I am a huge chicken when it comes to this topic.  My entire life, I've had nothing but dysfunctional relationships.  Growing up in a home infected with domestic violence, I never knew what a healthy relationship looked like.  And I made some bad choices, choosing very unhealthy partners.  So when Patrick and I talked about relationships, I told him that I didn't think I could ever live with a man again.

I went on to tell him that I didn't think I could deal with the stress of having someone complain about the house not being clean enough, the food not cooked on time, the kids not quiet, etc.  "I even leave the cap off the toothpaste," I insisted.  And that's when he stumped me with that remark.

And after that answer, I went on, "Well, my home is really busy!  It's never perfectly clean.  There's always toys on the floor, laundry never ends and after the kids go to bed there are more chores to be done."

"Babe," he replied, "I wouldn't just stand around and watch you manage the house and kids by yourself.  I'd help, you know."

One thing that never ceases to surprise me about our relationship is that he constantly reminds me that I'm no longer in one of those past relationships.  Whenever I visit with him, I'm never left to cook by myself.  He helps.  He washes dishes.  He doesn't just go off and play on his computer.  He spends time with me, even if it's just to join me in playing fetch with his dog. 

And another thing-- there's no pressure!  For anything!  We don't text each other every hour of the day.  We're both busy people.  He has his own business, his own kids.  He doesn't question why I don't text or call him as often as I'd like.  There's this really cool, calming sense of understanding between us.  He doesn't expect me to drop what I'm doing for him, even though I'd jump at an opportunity to chat with him.  He's secure enough in our relationship that he doesn't feel it necessary to nag me for attention. 

Lots of the bad things in my past come back to haunt me in this relationship.  But I combat them with this relationship's facts, the person I'm with now and the person I am now.  I'm stronger, able to see clearly and am quicker to identify unhealthy behaviors.  And Patrick consistently shows up in the "healthy" department.

I told my therapist once, "Even if he and I don't work out for some reason, I'm confident that at least this relationship has shown me what a healthy one looks like."  Of course, I'd rather we work out instead!  But the point is, I'm glad I have such a good opportunity to experience having a good relationship and to know what one feels like.

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Care Package!!

You ever have that friend who knew just what you needed?  He knew your favorite treats, what melted your heart and what brought you light.  I have just a few of those, which is pretty damn lucky of me.  Well one of those is M. 

This morning was pretty rough.  If you read the Skype blog, you know I was pretty sad.  I was pretty weepy during lunch.  But this evening, I realized God knew I was going to have one of these days.  So he aligned things in the right places and times to ensure I remembered that HE remembers me.

My boss and I were in our office when someone knocks on our door.  One of the post office workers stood there and told us that we had mail.  I’m thinking, Yay!  Another care package for the troops!  The second part of me was thinking, Crap! Now we have another box to go through and make sure we have enough space in our office to put it before we send it out to the camp.

When we got there, two big boxes awaited us.  One was addressed to me.  I looked at the sender’s info and saw that it was from M.  My heart just melted.  I didn’t care what was in the box.  Just the fact that it came on a day that I needed a little ray of sunshine was enough for me.

I opened it up and as I unpacked everything (he is very meticulous about making sure things got to me safely, friggin awesome), I couldn’t believe the care package he sent me.  It was a total surprise and I felt like a queen.  And with the morning I had, it was as if M never left-- he was there for me on a day I needed a smile. 

 This is every deployed girl's dream care package!

 First, he remembered I love red nail polish for my toes.  Second?  This manicure kit blows my cheap one out of the water.

I. Am. A. Junkie.  For all of these.  Earl Grey and French Vanilla coffee creamer?  He remembered my favorites.  Ladies, you need a man like M.

Friggin sugar scrub, body butter and body wash.  Loofa, travel mirror, lip balm, HAIR TIES, and cleanse wipes.  Genious.

Scented candle and a happy wall piece.  I'm obsessed with making my room more like home.

Smart deployment must-have-- wrinkle remover!  Helpful especially for business trips.

And the all-time stress reliever and target practice aide:  The Nerf gun!!!

My favorite thing in the box is a coin.  In the military, one of our traditions is trading and collecting coins.  It's usually done as a form of remembrance and honor.  He sent me his unit coin.  I'm a huge collector and this one will be at the top of my rack.  It means so much to me.

M, if you ever read this, thank you so much!!  Your heart is such a gift to the world.  I wish you were here!



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John

John's Girls

If there was ever a person whom I could have no words to truly describe with words, it would be John.  He is musical, funny, intelligent, animal-loving, faithful, caring, jeez I could go on and on.  He is just amazing.  He is the one who would call you up the morning of your birthday and actually SING Happy Birthday to you.  And sound amazing.  Another thing-- he is so passionate about things that most people even think about or take for granted.  If you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting him, your life just wouldn’t be the same.

I won’t go into how I met him, as that is not as important as how my life has changed because of him.  He reminded me of things I’ve loved and have had passion for that I had forgotten a long time ago.  Kind of like walking in a friend’s home and smelling fresh baked cookies and it reminds you of how your grandmother made them every day after school for you.  It wasn’t the cookie—it was the love between you and her.  John did that to me.  He brought to life all the reasons I loved the things I love and made me realize that they hadn’t died, just been stuffed in a closet for a long time.

I remember a night when I was really feeling alone.  Tired.  Stressed.  Sad.  And as if I was going through my troubles all by myself.  I hadn’t even relayed the depth of the sadness I felt to him, I think I just mentioned it in a text to him earlier.  But I laid in bed that night, hours after I had texted him, and I just stared off into space.  Feeling alone.

It was really late.  I was just falling asleep, totally beat down inside.  And the phone rings.  When I answered it, it was John.  And he barely even bothered with small talk.  He went straight into telling me how wonderful I was and started naming all the things he admired about me as a person.  And I sat there, just listening with tears crawling down my cheeks, as he told me that I’m never alone.  I am a wonderful mom, a beautiful human.  And although I felt alone as I lay in my bed, I had a friend a thousand miles away whom I could always count on.  Someone who loves me and someone I could trust.

I will never forget that night.  I am so grateful that he is in my life.

My prayer for you is that you have a John in your life. 

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Take That, You Big Meanie!

WHAAACK!

PLOP.

WHAACK!

PLOP.

Those were the sounds Melissa heard over and over.  Finally, she squinted her eyes and looked on in the direction of the odd sounds toward the lake.  Her dad took her to the park some weekends and she’d feed the ducks or play in the water.  Most times were peaceful with only a few visitors.  Sometimes a turtle would plop its head out of the water and she’d quietly sit close enough to watch it look around as it took a breathing-break. 

Well, this day was the same as most days.  It was sunny with a cool breeze.  Not too many kids out in the playground.  She sat in the grass by a tree, watching a mother duck waddle with six ducklings behind her.  Her dad stood just a little bit away as he took pictures of the trees.  The sounds that drew her attention were something she hadn’t heard at the park.  It sounded like someone hitting something into the water with a bat.

As she sought out the source of the noise, she spotted a large man standing by a small rowboat on the lake shore.  He had meaty shoulders that hunched over as he looked onto the water.  One oar was in his right hand and the other lay lazily on the grass a few feet behind him.  A bucket sat on the grass to his right.

She watched as he squatted down and picked something up from the bucket, tossed it high in the air and swung the oar, sending the floppy-looking object in the air until it plopped into the water.  Wondering what he was hitting, she stood from the grass to move in closer for a better sight.

Dusting her shins of the grass that covered them, she quietly walked a few feet closer to the man.  She watched as he bent over and picked up another floppy object.  It rose quietly into the air as if it had taken a jump on a trampoline.  And then she realized what it was.

A frog.  On its descend, the sound of the oar’s wooden paddle hitting the frog’s fleshy body filled her ears.  In terror, she watched as it soared into the sky, its floppy legs dangling like broken tree limbs.  The sound of the plop as it hit the water made her stomach turn.

As it reemerged, it flopped on its back and spun slowly on the surface.  Before she knew it, another frog dropped into the water.  And another.

STOPPPPPITTT!!!!!!!  STTTTOOOOPP!!!!!

She didn’t know what else she was screaming.  All she knew was the wind was at her back as she raced toward the man.  As she approached him, his back to her, her little arms reached for his non-frog-killing oar.

In a flash, she was a baseball player at the bat, her right foot dug firmly into the ground.  She twisted right and with all her might she slugged that oar against that bastard frog killer’s back.  The WHACK! that oar made sounded like lightning when it struck.

Caught off-guard, the frog killer stumbled forward with a loud grunt.  Instinctively, he flung around with his eyes widened and face twisted into a grimace. 

She stood there, fire burning through her veins.  Her heart raced and her ears rang.  She knew she was a mouse compared to this giant animal-torturing meanie.

Before the frog killer could do a thing, her dad came flying to the rescue. 

As the men discussed the situation, she took that boat out and collected all the floating frogs and put them in the boat.  She sat there, sobbing because they lay dying and she couldn’t save them.

She was nine.  And I think she’d make a great baseball player, the way she swung that oar. 

One of the greatest things about this deployment is the massive amount of opportunities to meet people of all types of personalities, backgrounds, and experience.  The population here is so diverse that you will always be surprised.  Sometimes you’ll meet people you wish you hadn’t met.  And sometimes you’ll find people who grip your heart because they’ve just become your animal-loving hero.

Me, I’d cry and try to grab the animal that was being hurt.  Melissa?  She’d kick the bastard’s ass.

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Patrick

"So... I have this cousin who's single..." 

I never liked blind dates.  Then again, I'm not too fond of surprises in general.  So, the first time my friend Lynn let this well intended offer slip past her lips, the first thing I answered was "Uh huh.  That's cool.  Not interested."  Not that I didn't trust Lynn.  She and I have been girlfriends for years.  She knew me way before I was even a mom.  She is one of my two best friends.  It's just that I always felt blind dates were scary enough, but a blind date through a good friend?  It's almost an obligation to like the person once you accept the hook-up.

Lynn and I would talk on the phone for a couple of hours while we had down time from the kids.  And every once in a while, the conversation would lead to relationships.  And she would pull that old panty out of the drawer... "So... I have this cousin who's single..."

After being single for a while, I started to feel a little lonely.  I loved my freedom, loved having a life with my kids that was healthy and not full of destruction.  I appreciated the challenges of my choice to raise my kids on  my own.  But after a while I felt ... alone.

Finally, one night I found myself sitting in my porch scrolling through Craigslist's personal ads.  And I thought to myself,  "WTF!  Am I that lonely?!"  I got on the phone and complained to Lynn about wanting someone to just hang out with.  Someone who could be a friend or companion.

And of course, she said, "Well... I have this cousin..."

I gave up.  I succumbed.  I said, "Fine, tell me about this cousin." 

That was a while ago.  And Patrick and I are still dating.  I guess we're dating.  It's so weird calling someone a boyfriend when you're not in highschool anymore.  Anyway, he and I are doing pretty well with this whole relationship thing.  We definitely have some interesting experiences though.

I'm a fully flamed Aries.  He's a Libra.  Complete opposites in personality.  Me with my lust for passion and fire, words of affection, and crazy music.  And him with his earthly spirit and a gentle touch.  We put each other in places we've never been before.  And I'm usually the one expecting him to keep up with me.  And he usually just smiles and reminds me that we don't need to rush.

He's a single dad and way older than me.  Someone accused me of being a gold digger.  I told Patrick he better make some money because it would be cool to actually live up to that title.  :P  We're actually about equal in income.  His credit score is probably better than mine, though.  Someone else asked me if I had daddy issues and that's why I'm with an older guy.  I just answered both their remarks with this:  "Can't a girl just like a guy for who he is?"  In fact, I'm gonna make a blog entirely on age difference.  I think it'll be interesting.

I usually don't blog about Patrick.  Not because I don't think he'd make an interesting topic.  It's just that, he's personal.  You don't let your neighbors peek into your pantry drawer, do you?  :P  I guess he's just been on my mind lately.  So I thought I'd write about him.

I hope that wherever you are in your single-momming life, you have a Patrick topic of your own that you'd like to talk about.

Til next post.  Peace.

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JT the Sweetheart

On the camp, I'm surrounded by tons of ... men.  Women here are just not that many.  Personally, I think it's a good thing.  Haha!  Not that I don't like being around other women, it's just that most women are catty by nature.  We're emotionally charged.  You put a bunch of us together and you get:  the drama queen, the slut, the loner, the innocent, the bitch, the weird chick, and the one we all hate- the two-face.  You put us all together and this is what happens: The first week, everyone clings to each other.  The second week, people figure out which one of the above mentioned categories each other is in.  By the third week, all hell breaks loose. 

The drama queen talks shit about the slut because she's getting all the guy attention.  The two-face is best friends with the slut but she secretly admires the drama queen's in-your-face methods so she talks to both of them about what each of them have said about each other.  The weird chick doesn't give a crap about the drama except for times when she needs entertainment and she'll watch the show just for fun.  Usually the weird chick is pretty damn cool and gets along with most of them until one of them crosses the line.  Anyway, the bitch picks on the innocent for fun but slaps the shit out of the two-face who is her rival enemy.  Meanwhile, the loner talks to herself about all of them and prides herself on being better than the rest of them, yet secretly longs to be one of their friends.  Oh and the innocent wants everyone to love each other and usually gets emotional that everyone's fighting.

My favorite is the weird chick. 

Anyway, I say all that just to emphasize why I like hanging with the guys.  They have far less drama and usually their things are - who's the biggest asshole and who has the biggest dick.  I can tolerate that type of drama.  It's still retarded but just not as complex and annoying as the women's issues.

So anyway, in the People blog you'll find me talking mostly about guys around here because 1) I hang with them and 2) they greatly outnumber women so I come across them more often.

All right, tonight's People blog is about a guy named JT.  JT is the boy next door.  Sweet, American boy.  Everyone loves him.  He's always friendly.  Remembers people's little details.  Just an all around nice guy.

The first time I encountered JT, it was because he needed to borrow my office projector.  He knocked on the door and came in looking like a Ken doll.  Such a nice smile, so polite while he asked for the favor.  It wasn't a problem and I told him when I needed it back.  He was very appreciative.  I just got such a nice feeling about him.  Have you ever been around a baby and just felt a little happier inside?  It's kind of like remembering that the world has beauty.  Just a really cool feeling.  Well, that's how I felt when I first met JT.

One day, I was walking towards my office and he was passing by when he stopped me and said he had something for me.  He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and said that in one of the outstations, there's a little store where he uses the bathroom and he always feels bad if he doesn't buy something if he uses their bathroom.  So he bought a pack of cigarettes even though he didn't smoke.  I guess he remembered I was a smoker, so when he saw me he remembered the cigarettes.  It wasn't that he gave me a pack of cigarettes that humbled me (although that was very sweet of him), it was the fact that he would buy a pack of cigarettes just because he felt bad if he didn't buy something from a store he visited just to use the bathroom.

Anyway, I just wanted to write about JT so that one day I could read this blog and remember that there are some really nice people in the world.

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