Channels

So I had the worst dream last night. My husband was killed overseas and they forgot to tell me. Which, now in the light of day, is laughable -- especially to my fellow military wives -- because how like them to forget to tell the wife! But when I was in the midst of the dream, it was horrible. The weight of the grief and the loss of our future was palpable. I remember just walking in circles in my dream trying to understand it all. And then the doorbell rang and he was standing there in a fast food type uniform so, obviously the serious part had given way to the Gatorade I had consumed before sleeping last night.

But I can't shake that feeling of grief. My husband, of course is milking it (when am I going to learn to not tell him dreams where he comes out a hero?). I think a lot of closure is happening right now in my life. I am feeling a bit more settled. I am not in constant wonder if hubby is going to be sent somewhere for months. I feel like my kids are in a safe school. My best friend's husband is finally home from a 15 month deployment. My family is all relatively healthy (if only my parents would stop falling down stairs!) The Monster 'Neath the Skin is a memory that I push out of my head so as to not wake it.

So I guess the dream just needs to dissolve a little more through the day. You know how dreams are...one minute they are messengers of a different outcome- a different world, the next they are excerpts from a short lived show. I just hope tonight's show is a comedy.

Domes

I've been thinking a lot about my hometown. The town I grew up in and spent eighteen years in and visited often for ten years after that. My family has moved away from that town so for me to go back and visit would be a real process. It is a far, far away place now.

One reason I have been thinking of it is because the town I am now residing in reminds me of H'town. There are hills and valleys, there is a downtown with shops and restaurants. There is a dome that shines through the trees as the car coasts to the bottom of the tall hill, bringing you into town. Geographically it feels like home here. But I have yet to feel it in my heart. I wonder how long it takes to feel a place in your heart?

It amazes me how quickly the kids adapt to and adopt their new town. If you ask them where they live, they quickly (butcher) say the name. Yet, there are still mornings I wake up and I have no idea where I am. I know, I know. It has been a hell of a trip for the last five years. Especially this last year. And, in fact, it has been a year almost to the day that the nightmare started.

I finally summoned the courage a few weeks ago and gave up my last dose of medication. One year ago I was literally begging for a cure, ready to end it all so I could be done with the pain. And now, I am medicine free, pain free and wandering around a town in the middle of nowhere, with no one knowing me or my history. A miracle? I don't know. I don't even understand what happened. I hate to even think about it. Because really, it's only in remission....I think. I guess I will never know until it happens again. I have a stockpile of the meds ready to go, but I have stopped packing them and taking them wherever I go. I think that is a good step. AND I am finally writing about it. Which I have been afraid to do...you know superstition and all. (So don't read any of this out loud lest the Monster 'Neath the Skin hears you)

And so I drive around this new town, I live this new phase. I think about my hometown and hope that my kids have good memories of this new place. I hope these good memories override any memories from the last year-- no one wants their kids to remember that. This new place doesn't smell of chocolate or have brightly lit stars atop mountains at Christmas (shout out to H'town), but I can make it just as a happy place for my kids...Daddy is not at war and Mommy doesn't need brain surgery...so all is good, right?

Jump

Have you ever felt like you were standing on a precipice, ready to make a decision, take that leap, change your life forever? Doesn't it feel like our country is about to do the same thing? The funny (not really) thing is, I don't understand a damned thing that is going on the news. Am I alone here? I know I should be concerned. I know I should know what they are talking about. But all I keep wondering is:

Should I start stock piling food, water, etc in the basement?
Should I start saving aluminum foil like my Mema did since the last "Great Depression?"
Should I really be buying a bunch of things for the new house ( and how like me to finally own a house when all is about to go to hell?!)

Should I be getting a bunch of cash and sticking it in crevices in the walls (or a hole in the ground?)

Is anyone else looking around like me and wondering what is going on here? I don't GET it. I am not a stupid person, but I don't GET it.

I also took another leap this week. I cut out my morning dose of oxcarbazapine. (I finally learned how to spell and say the damned thing and now -- hopefully-- it will be exiting my life!) And of course, like the last ten doses of meds, my teeth started "twinging" a little, but so far I am doing ok with just ibuprofen -- whoo hoo! Three more doses to go and MAYBE I will be meds free.

I will always be suspecting that monster to claw its way into my face again. I will expect it to show up at the worst moment so as to not be totally comfortable in my life -- and at the same time I will be appreciative for not having pain in my life. What a horrible year I have witnessed.

And so I am standing on a precipice, scratching my head, looking around at the world with a perplexed mind, but I am pain free and willing to take that jump into the non-med life.

Even if it is from under the house with my ramen noodles, cash and a big ol' ball of aluminum foil.

Sleep and Such

Interesting. How else can I put the last few weeks? Living in hotels, living in the car, eating fast food for lunch and dinner (breakfast was the healthiest meal as the hotel quietly set it up just to have my kids run in and cause a ruckus). Our outlet for a restless day stuck in a car? McDonald's Playland (an inside one! whoo hoo!)

Everyone, at one time or another, had their meltdown. Including me. Especially after the "Front Desk" (remember The Desk? Apparently there are these all over the world!) called me to tell me of a Noise Complaint from our seemingly sleepy neighbor. Never mind that it was 8:30 in the morning. Never mind that I heard kids running around the hallways at 2 AM but didn't complain. Never mind that I had HAD IT. They were sleepy. Oh...I called that Front Desk back and gave them a piece of my mind. For whatever that matters. So, yes, I had my meltdowns. And new lows. (walking down to breakfast I spoke very immaturely loudly in the hallway-- I am such a bad influence)

Of course, hubby didn't have meltdowns or lows. I think they train soldiers to be completely numb to everything, but come on. This is considered torture. Three kids in a hotel, for weeks, in a car for days, and trying to buy a house in a town we don't know at all? And still....nothing. He sits with his eyes focused on the road in front of him. Listening to "Geronimo Stilton and the Cheese Pyramid" for the 642 time (yes I am glad my son likes audio books instead of movies...but come on. A little "Toy Story" or "Ninja Turtles" wouldn't hurt anyone right?)

He is a stone cold killer. His eyes sweeping the horizon. Ignoring the cries of desperation surrounding him (coming from me) he searches for his target. Nothing phases him. And then...there it is. A gas station with a slushy machine. Yes. Another mission completed. (as for me...I had to ONCE AGAIN drag my daughter with the smallest bladder in the entire world into another filthy gas station bathroom. Oh the horror. )

And then we get to our destination. Another week in a hotel/barrack. Post housing is what it is called. A tiny, tiny apartment. Two rooms and a closet for a kitchen. It smelled. I can't describe it. But the final kicker was when my oldest son came into "my room" and told me about the "sleeping mouses" he found in his room. I think I held it together very, very well.

I asked him to show me the "sleepy mice" and he did. And there they were. All curled up under the air conditioner stuck to a sticky trap. I had had enough. I called down to the desk and told the chirpy, helium sucking, brain dead girl unlucky enough to answer the phone at that moment to get someone up to the room to remove the sleeping mice.

I had had enough. (Never mind the fact that my son found the mice in the morning and didn't tell me until that evening because he thought he would get in trouble. What is up with that? Am I that horrible of a mother that he thinks I will punish him for putting mice to sleep?)

And then we finally get the house. And the house is beautiful, big -- not without problems -- but it is ours. Finally a house we can call ours. After nearly seven years together, all over this world, we have a home. Well...almost a home. As soon as we unpack and figure it all out it will turn into our home. But we have our own house. And that was my mission all along.

Now I am not saying the meltdowns have stopped (especially mine -- I can't find anything!) but at least I don't have to worry about the guy in the next room calling the Front Desk. I am the Front Desk in these parts. And my husband? He is still searching for the illusive slushy machine closest to the house. Life is getting back to "normal".

Moving at the Speed of 40w

I. Can't. Sleep.

No, it isn't the book about vampires that I just finished, though I keep jumping at every sound and have turned on every light in the computer room (You know that does keep them away right? They hate the blaring light of a 40w bulb)(And never mind it is a book written for teenagers and is supposed to be a love story. I am still freaked out.)

No, it isn't my husband being in danger (unless the vampires ARE waiting under the bed like my mind keeps whispering) because he is home now.

And no, it isn't the excruciating pain that once held me captive at this time of night/morning.

I am popping Benedryl to aide in my sleep because I am moving in less than a week and I am not prepared for this at all. I am moving. In four days. Into a hotel. With three kids. And then out of the town I have known for the last four years. To move back into a hotel. Into a town where I know no one.

No, I can't sleep. And I should sleep because it will be the last few nights that I will have comfortable, private sleep in the house that I am used to. But, try to tell my mind that. Instead I am waiting for the soft blanket of Benedryl to cover me and lull me.

During the day I am the Happiest Mommy in the World! I CAN'T WAIT TO MOVE! Man, where we are moving is the BEST place to be, so Mommy says to the little faces peering up at her when she tells them they can't go to their school's welcome back day. Because it isn't their school anymore.

Their Concerns:

-How will our friends come over if we are there and they are here?

-Will Santa find us?

-Will our toys come with us?

-Will Aidan (the one year old) come with us?

-Does it snow there?

-Can we chew gum there?

And Neurotic Happy Mommy chokes out answers with a big, dumb smile, practically screaming:

"WE'LL CALL YOUR FRIENDS AND MAYBE THEY WILL VISIT! HURRAH!"

"OF COURSE SANTA WILL FIND US! "___" IS HIS FAVORITE TOWN IN THE WHOLE WORLD!"

"YES! EVERY TOY IS COMING ALONG! WHOOPIE!"

"YES! EVERY BROTHER IS COMING ALONG! YIPPIE!"

"YES! IT SNOWS ALL THE TIME! WHOO HOO!"

"YES! PEOPLE LOVE CHEWING GUM THERE! WHOOPIDOO!"

So I wait for the Benedryl induced sleep. And I wait for the 40w bulb to burn out. And I keep my crazed happy face on for the kids. And in four days I will be moving on....sitting in a hotel lobby so I won't keep my entire family awake in the middle of the night. Maybe I will run into a few vampires to keep me company...

Weeks

Where have I been? What has taken me away from my rants and raves? Let me see....

The Last Two Weeks:

• All three children have strep. YES! Another ten days of forcing thick, nasty antibiotics down their throats every twelve hours!

• Hubby comes home...in the middle of the night! All of those hours of working out, getting my roots "done" (you ladies know), eyebrows plucked, lip waxed, the perfect outfits for me and the kids (a subtle mixture of red white and blues), sign ready to be held at the air field or airport....all that and he walks in at two in the morning to a wife sleeping, no make up, hair in a pony tail/bed head, no cute outfits for the kids, no signs, nothing. One child wakes up and is so freaked out by seeing her Daddy in the bedroom she gets a strange look on her face and starts clacking her teeth together. Said child is so freaked out for the next two hours, wife (me) has to go and sleep with her in guest room. Welcome home honey!!!

• I get a letter from the Mammography department saying I need to come back in due to irregularities in the last mammogram. Yeah...I don't really have time for breast cancer right now. Ok...push that letter and all that it entails to the very very back of my brain.

• Hubby flies to the next duty station place and tries to find us a house or at least shelter to live in for the next few years. (yes, four days after he came home). He calls three days later, we bought a house. Ohhhhhkaaaaay.

• Throw my son his 5th birthday party (phase one). Continue to plan and execute my husband's surprise party that I have been planning for the last couple of months. 17 men coming in from all over the country to celebrate him.

• Go back to hospital and get my boob squished again. Half hour later, they give me the green light. No worries....just some tissue. Good! No time for anything but tissues. Continue to plan and hide party from hubby.

• Have party. Hubby very surprised. Guys go out and drink. Everyone happy. I get wife of the year award.
  


• 
  Have son's birthday party (phase 2). Host some more people at the house.
  


• 
  Start packing for vacation.

The Next Two Weeks:

• Go on our vacation. Have fun-- dammit.


• Pack up the house, change address (to a rented PO BOX), cancel utilities, clean house, move into hotel in town (can't wait for that one she said sarcastically)

Three Weeks Later:

• Drive to new Duty Station


• Live in hotel (yes! another hotel in a town I don't know!! Whoo hoo!)


• Enter the kids in preschool. One that I have not seen, nor do I know where it is.


• Close on house (that I have not seen, nor do I know where it is)


• Move and unpack into mystery house.

Four Weeks Later:

• Open a bottle of Vodka. Drink.

I do not know what is in store for us. And isn't that a grand adventure? (have you been reading me long enough to know when I am being completely, annoyingly sarcastic?) I just hope that the new house, new town, new teachers, new doctors are all ready for us to invade. And I pray that the monster that has been quiet for the last few months (!) does not rear it's unpredictable head as I am trying to start a new life....

Vampires of Bergen County, NJ

Last night I dreamt that I was going through a flea market/garage sale at a huge mansion. At first I was finding all kinds of cute baby things. And then I realized I didn't really need those anymore. Then I was finding all kinds of toys that I had when I was a pre-teen. Barbie type stuff. But I realized that my daughter wasn't ready for that and we move around so much, I can't buy it and hold it for several years.

Then I found some pill cases. All kinds of pill cases. Days of the week. Hours of the day. Weeks of the month. You get it. I started to panic. So I went into another room. This room was filled with DVDs. I started pawing through them and realized they were all horror movies. Now, I hate horror movies. I am a big ole' wimp when it comes to gore and blood and heads being sawed off, etc. And then my dream turned into one.

Suddenly I am being chased from room to room by these vampires screeching at me and I couldn't figure out what they were saying. In every room someone was being chewed up, but no one had faces. They looked like hair on bowling balls. And suddenly I understood what they were screaming. "Call your mother!" What? "Call your mother! They won't get you if you talked to your mother today!"
Jewish Mother Vampires? Now I've heard of everything.

As humorous as it sounds now, twelve hours later, when I woke up I was frozen with fear. You know the feeling. Logically, with adult reasoning, you know there is no vampire standing at the foot of your bed, or in the doorway to your bathroom (and being the Jewish Mother type, wondering when the last time you cleaned said bathroom) but it takes you minutes to calm down enough to turn around. Right? And then it takes a few more minutes to get your heart calm enough to go back to sleep. Frozen with fear, but heart pounding.

And that my friends, is how I am feeling all of the time with the reduction in my meds. I am frozen with fear. I can't get beyond the fourth reduction. I am so scared of the pain that I may feel if I take another pill out of the equation, I just can't do it! I know I have to.

But I can't turn around and face my demons. I just keep running and denying it all. And no, I haven't talked to my mother today. I have, however, talked to my Dad and my sister. And that counts, right?