Army Wives, Well-Wishers, and Red Necks, Post 3

Here is the conclusion to Post 1 and Post 2. Enjoy!

Then there are the Red Necks. Oh how I struggle to hold back the tide of red neck jokes that pour into my e-mail box almost daily. A year ago I wouldn't have even thought to add Red Necks to my list as I didn't know any personally. When we bought our house I was surprised to find that I was now surrounded by them. From a glance they look like everyday working class people, it isn't until you engage in conversation that the Red Neck comes out. The hard to understand broken southern drawl, the lingo that is exclusive to this group is fascinating to behold. I will still scratch my head trying to figure out what the neighbor lady just said, and I have lived here for just over a year now.

There is something appealing about the Red Neck. They have four-wheelers, off-road rigs, dirt bikes, and lots and lots of cold beer. "Get 'er done" seems to be their motto. They are constantly on the go- takin' care of business. Their lawns are mowed at least twice a week, and the cleanliness level in their homes puts me to shame. They are truly the unsung heroes in my neighborhood. When they see me outside pushing the mower with one hand and holding the baby in the other they come running. When my car breaks they just so happen to have all the parts they need to fix it sitting in their garage. When I am trying to carry the 50 pound bag of dog food into the garage they are there to give me a hand.

They are uncomplicated. They expect nothing in return. They even give me veggies that were home grown in their backyard garden. They wait till I am not at home to mow my yard. They are great people and I love them for it. They assess my situation in their own way- "Haven't seen the old man in a while, he gone again?" A simple yes from me is all it takes for them to step up to the plate. They don't ask what I need; they just look around and find stuff to take care of. I don't know what I would do without them. They- the Red Necks-  are my heroes.

Amen.

Army Wives, Well-Wishers, and Red Necks, Post 2

Continued From Yesterday...

The Well-Wishers are almost as hard to deal with as the not so regulars. Well-Wishers are select groups of individuals who, in the course of conversation find out that your spouse is deployed, suddenly look at you differently. Looking down their nose, false (okay, maybe not all false) sense of sympathy pouring from their eyes, thanking you for sacrificing your life with your husband. Letting him go off to a war we can't win- how awful for me it must be. It will be so much better to get Bush out of office so we can bring the troops home- then every thing will be magically better again.

My favorite comment is "I really do support the troops, but I don't support the war." Guess what Well-Wisher; by withdrawing support for the war you are sentencing my life to even harder realities. I now know that my husbands unit doesn't have the funds to provide even simple items, like a flash light or a scope for his rifle. Thanks so much for wishing me well, meanwhile stabbing him in the back. Go ahead a feel really good about your self for supporting the troops. Meanwhile I will sit here not knowing if my husband will be one of the lucky ones to receive armor for his truck. I know you feel horrible about the troop surge, heaven forbid they get more guys over there to secure the area. Your right, instead of putting more feet on the ground we should pull them all out and have the war follow us home.

9-11 was a wake up call for the entire nation; I might even go so far as to say the entire world. Describing that horrific day as a terrorist attack has only made things worse. You see Well-Wisher that day was not a terrorist attack- It was an act of war. Hundreds lost their lives that day, survivors are now dealing with residual health problems. Terrorism? Perhaps in the sense that it defiantly scared the pants off of us, but the truth is war was declared that day. We didn't start it, and now you don't want us to finish it. You ask if there is something that you can do to help me. Well yes, there is. You can stop pretending. You can open your eyes to the remarkable achievements that have been made, the acts of bravery taking place everyday, the hope that we can bring into a harsh existence. You can get involved in finding a solution that will benefit us all instead of standing on your soap box pretending to care.

Come on Back for Red Necks; day 3 of this post.

Army Wives, Well-Wishers, and Red Necks, Post 1

Note: I published this blog on my MySpace account when Charley deployed two years ago. I was on said site today and realized how very true my thoughts were then, and how relevant they still are today. Not much has changed. Poor us.

There are multitudes of types of people in this world. Three distinct groups have been on my mind lately and I feel the need to write. Perhaps through writing I will finally sort out the jumbled thoughts running through my mind.

Military wives are unlike the any other wives I have the pleasure, or displeasure, to meet. Military wives fall into two categories- regular and not so regular. The regular wives are almost normal. They wake up, take care of the kids and the house, and keep up with the day to day affairs of normal life. They are PTA moms, drive in carpools, and gossip incessantly. From the onlookers perspective you would think they are like everyone else. What is not so obvious is the daily fear of what is to come. Will their spouse deploy again? Is he already deployed? Will he spend three weeks in the field only to come home and have to go back out again? Will she have him there to help raise the kids? What will she do if he is injured or worse? The hardest part of military lives is the constant uncertainty, never knowing what lies around the corner. But from the outside looking in you can not tell they struggle. They hold their heads high, carry on, and perhaps bitch a little to friends who understand.

The second category, the not so regular military wife, is a bit deceiving. By saying they are not so regular one would think they are the minority. Unfortunately for me the not so regulars tend to be the majority. There is a large gap between the two groups but beware- things are not always what they seem. The not so regulars can do all the wonderful things that regulars do. They can be soccer moms and PTA presidents. The difference is that while regulars sleep alone and quietly pine away for their other half hoping he is okay, the not so regulars move their boyfriend in the day her spouse leaves, goes out to the bar looking for a one night stand, or spends his hard earned money on gifts for her new man. The occurrence of not so regulars astounds me.

I have met more than I care to remember, and have heard rumors of even more. Why? I can't figure it out. Why treat someone so badly? Why destroy the lives of your children? But seeing as even non-military wives make the same disastrous choice, I guess the club of not so regulars is not exclusive. It is the presence of the not so regulars that give people like me a bad name. I wish they would just knock it off but realistically there have been cheating spouses for as long as the idea of marriage has been around…

Stay tuned for more Tomorrow!

Greek Myths; Not for Kids.

What should you say when your nine year old punk comes up to you and asks "What is an incestuous relationship?"

Ummmm; WHERE THE HECK TO YOU LEARN THAT TERM! I SWEAR CHILD YOU WILL NEVER WATCH CARTOONS EVER AGAIN! OR READ BOOKS- YES BOOKS ARE OUT! AND YOU WILL NEVER AGAIN CHECK YOU E-MAIL! TECHNOLOGY IS THE DEVIL!!!!!

And he replies, "But Momma, I was just watching that show on Greek Myths that goes with the stuff we are doing in school. YOU told me to watch it! Don't take away my e-mail!!! It wasn't my fault!"

And then I did some deep breathing. Or as some would call it "hyperventalating." Oh History Channel. I feel betrayed and abandoned in my hour of homeschooling need! Why would you turn your back on me so? Why?

Then I asked my punk what he thought it was, and he "had no clue" so I sent him off for the dictionary. The very same dictionary that we use every single day during school. I was full of confidence. He returned:

Punk: Momma it isn't in the dictionary
Me: Are you sure? You checked alphabetically?
Punk: Duh Momma, I know how to use a dictionary.
Me: Well, then, umm, I guess you misunderstood what they said on the TV show. Perhaps next time we watch that show when hell freezes over  we can figure out what it was really saying. (Insert smug paternal grin!)
Punk: Geesh Momma, you don't have to treat me like I am a baby or anything..... Oh, can I still play the Wii?
Me: Sure, in fact why don't I get it set up for you. You can play with your sister!
Punk: GROAN!!!!

Ah ha! I won that one History Channel! Now excuse me while I go re-write all the Greek Myths, Homer isn't the only one with a pen around here!