Monthly Archives: November 2009

When We Met

This will be a two post story. “When We Met” and “When We Fell in Love”

I’ve never worked on a post like this. I’ve never written and rewritten and edited. I’m more of a sit down and type, reread and post right away kinda girl. But I really wanted this post to be good. The result? well I don’t think it’s any better than my other stuff, but oh well.

It was June of 2007. I was working on a dairy farm. My friend was having what I thought was a party (which really turned out to be just a few people hanging out playing Kings). I wanted to go, but as I had just gotten my driver’s license and my dad’s old car I had to drive myself. And as I had to drive half an hour to be at work for 5 am (that’s right I had to get up at 4:20 the next day and was going to a party) I couldn’t stay overnight and had to stay sober. I was just home from my first (and so far only) year of University and it was really weird to be the sober one. I was wearing a red V-neck hoodie and short denim skirt. My hair had been dyed red quite a while ago and it was faded and had horrible roots. 

I stopped by my bff’s (for whom I still need to come up with a pseudonym for you guys) house on the way to the party because I really wasn’t sure about the people who were going to be there and I wanted her to call me with an excuse to get out if I needed it. It’s really funny, this is the one and only time I’ve ever tried a scheme like that, and I totally didn’t need it.

When I got to the party I was nervous as I always am, because social situations always make me nervous, and this time I was missing the great bottle of liquid social courage I had used the past year at University to get over that. I was also self-conscious about my roots. I got up to the apartment and knocked, one quick glance told me that it wasn’t really a party, but just a group of friends  hanging around drinking. This made me even more nervous because at a party it’s easier to hide. I told everyone to look out the window at my clunker of a car. I was 20 and driving. Finally!!

The introductions went around. I already knew almost everyone there, most of them were part of my high school group. Except for some girl who I hardly remember, and this guy who was introduced to me as “Spanky”. Everyone laughed because apparently there was quite a joke behind the Spanky name (although nearly 2 and a half years later I have yet to hear what it is, Pte Goff can’t remember, which is no surprise, he doesn’t remember anything like that). In the midst of the laughter I heard ‘Spanky’ say “Actually I prefer being called…” but I missed his real name because everyone was laughing.

They decide to play Kings, (I didn’t partake because I was driving). We sat down around the table and I ended up directly  across from Spanky. I remember him acting all macho and letting on like he was a player. Something that I’m usually not at all attacked to. I remember how completely hammered he was by 9:30 (to be fair they were picking on him, anytime anybody had drinks to give out they gave them to Spanky). Again, something I’m not usually attacked to. I enjoy a little too much alcohol now and then (at that time quite often) but I appreciate a guy who can hold his drink just a little.

He kept making little flirtations at me. Now I can’t remember what we said to each other but he was clearly acting interested. I thought to myself Gee, (because I say words like Gee to myself) it’s too bad I’m not drinking so that I could use that as an excuse to make out with him tonight. I remember at one point when they were playing “Never Have I Ever” as a sub part of the game of Kings the subject of virginity came up. Actually, if I remember correctly, it was ‘Spanky’ who asked if anyone there was a virgin. I wasn’t going to say anything, because I had VERY recently lost mine, and these people had all known me as the über Christian virgin in high school. But another friend of ours, we’ll call her Ms Determined, She spoke up for me. “Fable’s a virgin” so of course everyone there was like “OMG”. One of the guys there was also a virgin, but he was fat until very recently, and sadly this meant nobody was surprise about that (don’t get mad at me, this is not how I feel, just how the group reacted). I decided just to go along with it. I didn’t need to tell all these people about the recent change in my status of virgin. ‘Spanky’ seemed particularly interested. I kept brushing it off “It’s not a big deal”

By this point it was more than a little obvious that ‘Spanky’ was interested in me. I enjoyed the flirting. I had recently been brutally dumped (see the recent loss of virginity), and it was fun to just be silly with a guy again. I’ve always been a flirt, if not a good one, and I enjoy male attention. So I leaned over to Ms Determined, and we reverted to one of our favourite tricks in high school. Talk about somebody who’s right there in French so they can’t understand (I know, how rude were we?). (As a side note I was never fluent in French, and I’ve only gotten worse for not using it, but I knew enough that Ms Determined, who is fluent and a couple other friends and I could have basic conversations). I asked he what she thought about ‘Spanky’. She told me that he was pretty cute. Had a girlfriend, about 3 hours away, but the relationship wasn’t the greatest. I have never been so sad to find out a guy was taken. I’ve also never wish so bad that a relationship I knew nothing about would end. She also told me he was going to join the military, and we had a little giggle about how cute guys in uniform are.

I only stayed until like 10:15, becasue of the early morning ahead of me. I learned a while later that aparently ‘Spanky’ had passed out very shortly after that because he had not wanted to pass out in front of me, and had held out until then.

I didn’t see him again for 6 weeks. In that time he broke up with his girlfriend. I never did learn his name that night, because they all called him ‘Spanky’ the whole time.

So, that’s the first time I ever laid eyes on the man who became the father of my child and the love of my life. Soon how he and I became we.

Internet

So in case you didn’t notice a few changes went on over there ——-> yesterday. I went in search specifically for military blogs yesterday. I wanted to find the internet community that would understand what I am going through. I wanted to read that other wives/fiancées/girlfriends (or husbands/finacés/boyfriends) are finding this hard. And I did. I found a plethora of women out there who are blogging about their experience of the military life. Some of them talked about how much they love their significant other. And how it’s all worth it. But a lot of them, a surprising number of the actually, were right at that moment in the middle of splitting up with their significant other.

I don’t know for sure if I should be reading all these or not. I mean, I know that it’s nothing new. And I know the realities of the situation. It’s not like I have no idea what goes on. I know how hard it’s going to be. But when I sit there and read what all these women who are at the end of their ropes are saying, it just causes me so much worry. And let’s say I skip those blogs and just read the ones where the women are still in a healthy relationship. Who’s to say that after months of reading them they’re not going to find themselves in the same boat.

But at the same time I need to remind myself I’m not alone. I’m not on base yet and I don’t know anybody else in the military. I need to find people online who are doing this too.

I don’t think any of that made sense. I’m just rambling away. I don’t know what I’m saying. I do know that after reading all these blogs last night I drank an entire bottle of wine.

Fear

Do you know what my biggest fear is right now?

My biggest fear is Pte Goof coming home from a deployment in Afghanistan. War changes a person. I don’t think there is a single thing on Earth anybody can experience like it. And I know that he is nowhere near facing a deployment right now. I know that the way the government is talking  we will be out of Afghanistan before he’s even deployable. But the government has said that before. And even if we are, there will always be another war to fight.

And the thought of Pte Goof going over there. Actually killing people. Seeing the things soldiers see. I’m so terrified that he’ll come home and be such a different person that it won’t work anymore. What if he does go over, and war changes him so much that we find out we can’t be us anymore.

I’m sure I’m being paranoid, but I can’t help it. I scared SHITLESS!

The Military Spouse

I read this today when I stumbled across this blog, and I wanted to share.

The Military Spouse

When the good Lord was creating military spouses, He was into His sixth day of overtime.

An Angel appeared and said, “You’re having a lot of trouble on this one. What’s wrong with the standard model?”

The Lord replied, “Have you ever seen the regulations? It has to be completely independent, must be sponsored to get on base, have the qualities of both mother and father during deployments; Be a perfect hostess to four or 40, handle emergencies without military orders, cope with the flu and move around the world, have a kiss that cures anything from a child’s torn valentine to a soldier’s weary day, have the patience of a saint when waiting for the unit to return stateside, and have six pairs of soft hands.”

The Angel shook her head slowly and said, “Six pair of hands? No way!”

And the Lord answered, “Don’t worry. We’ll make other military spouses to help. Besides, it’s not the hands that are causing the problem – it’s the heart. It must swell with pride, sustain the ache of separation, beat soundly when it’s too tired to do so, be large enough to say ‘I understand’ when it doesn’t, and say ‘I love you,’ regardless.”

“Lord,” said the Angel, touching his sleeve gently, “go to bed. You can finish that tomorrow.”

“I can’t,” said the Lord. “I’m too close to creating something unique. Already I have one who can heal itself when sick, feed unexpected guests who are stuck in the area due to bad weather, and wave goodbye to its spouse from a pier or runway and understand it’s important to the country that the spouse leave.”

The Angel circled the model of the military spouse very slowly. “It’s too soft,” she sighed.

“But tough,” the Lord said excitedly. “You cannot imagine what this being can do or endure!”

“Can it think?” the Angel asked.

“Can it think? It can convert 1400 to 2 p.m.!” the Lord said.

Finally, the Angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek. “There’s a leak,” she pronounced. “I told you that you were trying to put too much into this model.”

“It’s not a leak,” said the Lord. “It’s a tear.”

“What’s it for?” asked the Angel.

“It’s for joy, sadness, pain, loneliness and pride,” the Lord said.

“You’re a genius,” said the Angel.

The Lord looked somber and said, “I didn’t put it there.”

~Author Unknown

Sometimes I feel like this whole “I’m a military spouse” deal makes me a fraud. Like I shouldn’t be able to call myself that yet. I shouldn’t have the right to complain about it. For now anyway. Because we’re only just starting this journey the military will take us on. Pte Goof is only in basic training. We haven’t had to move. He hasn’t gone to Alberta or somewhere. We haven’t had to deal with a deployment yet. He hasn’t lost any buddies over seas.

We’ve only dipped our toes in.

What a Weekend

Did you guys think I had forgotten you? Probably not as my stats indicate that nobody was here to feel forgotten.

What a crazy weekend! Pte Goof had fire picket on Saturday night, which meant he had Friday night off, but he had to be back for 1 am, and then he was stuck on base until 9 am on Sunday (and they always have to be back and dressed in their fatigues by 4 pm on Sunday). Crazy girl who I am that meant Friday night I drove the 45 minutes to pick him up for dinner. Then drove the 20 minutes to the next town for dinner and a wander around the mall. 20 minutes to drop him back at base then 45 minutes home again. And then Sunday I hustled my butt to drive the 45 minutes to pick him up again 9:30 to drive  45 minutes to take him home so he could get some sleep after he had to be up half the night for the fire picket since he`s not allowed to sleep during the day on base, even when it`s his time off. And then a couple hours later Drove 45 minutes back to base and 45 minutes home again so he could be back in time for sign in. That ridiculously complicated and boring paragraph was just my way of saying it was a busy weekend where I did a crazy amount of driving to see my Love. And I didn`t even mention the fact my friend and I drove 45 minutes on Sunday to do a little Christmas (!) shopping!  Or that I only got 4 hours of sleep on Saturday night because for some reason I couldn`t sleep. So I`m beat! Crazy busy weekend and I`m done!

Ok, I`m done complaining about it now. Sorry!

On the upside my friend left her new Carrie Underwood CD (yes, I listen to country music, let the judging commence) in my car, and being as she lives in Toronto during the week for work I get to borrow it for a whole week! I LOVE Carrie Underwood. The only real concert I`ve ever been to in my life was Carrie Underwood. This same friend (btw, it`s the yet to be named bff) and I went while I was pregnant and it was awesome!

And all this driving was worth it. Pte Goof has been so sweet lately. And he actually mentioned this wedding package he was looking at!!!!! Yes, that sentence really did require 5 exclamation points because this is the very first time in the year and a half that we`ve been engaged that he actually suggested something.

Squirt is becoming such a  little person! He`s becoming so interactive! On saturday morning I gave him a bottle (because I was pretty sure the bottle wine I had consumed the night before would have `spiked`my breast milk) and he kept offering his bottle to share to me. He saw me putting on chapstick and he wanted me to put some on him. So I did and then I put the lid on and handed it to him and he tried ro put some on me! It`s so amazing to watch him develop all these things. It`s crazy to watch this thing that you brought home that couldn`t do anything but sleep and poop come up to you and offer you a bite of his cookie!

Hopefully soon I`ll have the `When we met`post up. It`s the first time I`ve actually taken a while to compose a post, and now that I`ve told you guys that I feel like it`d beetter be good!

Ick

I think everyone has those moments. You know where you say “I just heard my mother’s [or father’s] words come right out of my mouth”. No matter how hard you try, or don’t try, to not be like your parents it’ll happen. The only thing is that for most people it happens when they’re dealing with kids., But no, not me! I have those moments when I’m dealing with my fiance!

You see Pte Goof acts so much like my father. Gross! I know! But he does (and he looks like my brothers, but let’s not get into how gross that is! I may have some issues :P). It’s the way he’s completely incapable of remembering any detail. Or how he can’t tell you how old he is because he forgets. Or how he’s so completely clueless about so many common sense things.

I do my laundry at my parent’s house because I don’t want to pay to use the machines in my building (I’m not cheap, I’m monetarily creative). So last night I happened to be there when he called for his nightly 10 minute phone call. And we had this dumb argument discussion about something that we had talked about 4 times in the last week. It wasn’t really a big deal, I was just frustrated because I had told him something 4 times, and he had forgotten EACH TIME. Just like we had never talked about it. I got off the phone and complained to my mom about how frustrating he was and she says “Fable, did you purposely go out and pick somebody as much like your father as you could?”

P.S. as per request, I am working on a post about how Pte Goof and I met

Big Sigh

So I had a bit of a break down yesterday.

You see, naturally the internet was covered in Remembrance and Veteran’s Day stuff. Which is good. It’s important for people to pay their respects. To take the time to remember. But it all got to me. People talking about the sacrifice, the soldier’s we’ve lost, the families stuck at home.  And it made me think. And I just got thinking I don’t want to do this. This whole military life. I don’t want to do it. I can do it… I WILL do it, but I don’t want to. I don’t want to move all over. I don’t want the military to dictate when I can and can’t see Pte. Goof. I don’t want to have to let him go over seas for months at a time. I don’t want to sit at home while he’s over seas scared at any second that I’m going to get the call. I don’t want to do any of it. I don’t want to share my Love with my country. Call me selfish, but that’s how it is.

I finally had to force myself off the computer. To stop myself from sitting there and bawling while I wallowed in self pity. The thoughts were simply not helpful. Why me? Why did I have to go fall for this boy? Why did this boy have to me such a military nut? But even after I got off the computer I couldn’t stop crying. I cried so hard. All because I don’t want this. I don’t want to be a military wife.

I mean, I will do it. I have to. I love Pte Goof and he loves the military. I just don’t want to.