It's been a while.

I've been having a fun summer. Running around like a crazy person to my Mom's and Branson and I don't know where else. My cousin has been here for a month. That has been really nice. She's a lot of fun and a big help.

So, around June 6th we started painting Little Girl's room. So cute. Pink and brown and princess. It has taken longer than I thought it would and it's not done yet. Almost, but not quite. I still need to finish the chair rail and put down the quarter round. We pulled up ugly green carpet to reveal somewhat better wood floors. I want to do Little Boy's room next (it's only fair) but I am a little burned out. We'll see.

My Mom wants me to come visit her, often. I don't like to. She's lives in the country, WAY out in the country, on a ranch with animals. It's dirty, it stinks, the water tastes weird and they eat gravy with everything. I could tolerate all that but she has such strange expectations. Not only does she want me to come visit, she also wants me to like it. There is nothing for me to like. No shopping, nothing clean, nothing that smells nice. Her husband doesn't enjoy our visits either. He has never been so rude as to come out and say it, but he gets annoyed by the kids. You see, they always make a mess. No matter what room you put them in, if you give them toys they see how many rooms they can spread them throughout. THEY ARE KIDS. So that stresses me out because we're in his house and I can feel his frustration. So I'm constantly telling the kids to pick up, but they are playing. That's a stupid fight I wouldn't normally get myself into. They can play outside some but it is so dangerous that it stresses me out too. My mom wants to take them out on the 4-wheeler (they are 4 and 5 years old), and I am unreasonable and paranoid because I think it is dangerous for my small children to ride a 4-wheeler. They burn their trash in that part of the country so one is very likely to find a burning pile in a trash can or pit at any time. The wind is always blowing and they have heavy metal fences that blow in that wind. Now, let's add to that...Mom also wants me to feel and show some sort of affection for her husband (and his family). I don't know this man. I think he is good for her and I am happy for her, but he's cranky and picky and not very talkative or warm. He's not easy to talk with. He's 70 something years old. He has grandkids that are my age. He doesn't want to play with my kids (that is an automatic -10 points for any man). Anyway, he's fine, I really don't dislike him, but I also don't have the warm-fuzzies about him (I don't have the warm-fuzzies for many people at all). His mother (Grannie) lives with he and my mother. That is an entirely different story. My gripe for now is that my mom wants me to have warm-fuzzies for her too. I've met her twice. My mom gives Little Girl stuff that belonged to Grannie and she wants me to be all sentimental about it. Some of it is really neat fun stuff, but for me all it means is more stuff to pick up and a Little Boy that doesn't understand why he doesn't get anything. She says "That was Grannie's" like it's supposed to make us all break down in tears. Yuck! It drives me crazy. Here's the part I haven't even gotten to yet... I have issues with my Mom. I don't really know why. Our personalities completely clash, but there is something else. I can't put my finger on it. There is all the normal stuff like she embarrassed me when I was a kid and I still resent that, she divorced my dad but I can't really blame her (I love him but he's a jerk and I couldn't live with him), she yells a lot about everything. I could never talk to her about anything when I was a kid because talking to her meant one of two things: she's going to yell at me, or tomorrow all my aunts and grandmas are going to know this. I stopped talking to her about anything important to me when I was 12. When I "became a woman" I called her at work and told her that I needed her to bring something home (she had a hysterectomy a few years before so there was nothing in the house), and she whined, "Right now!?" The next day we (mom, g-ma, my sister and I) all went to the Olive Garden to "celebrate." Ever since then, I have not shared anything sacred to me with my mother. But can that really be the "thing" that remains lodged between us? I think my time is up. I'm sure I can't afford this session. I've been on here for an hour and a half. More later, I'm sure.

No, wait! I have to gripe about this too. This chick is always positive and supportive of her husband being in the military. I need to gripe partly because I'm just not there. I am still hurt and angry that he made the choice to "serve his country." I love him and I'm very proud of who he his; his character and faith are impressive to me. I do not understand why he NEEDS to be in the army. I am angry everyday. I know that it is only bad for me and my kids but I can't seem to get out of the funk. I am not angry with him. I feel nothing but love and adoration for him. I am angry about my circumstances and have chosen a take it out on the army/president. I know it's irrational, but it feels better, temporarily. I also need to gripe because I want to be "there" (where that chick is). I want to be happy with my career as a military wife. I want to be gung-ho and supportive. I want to look forward to going to ball games and having to video tape every second because if I don't Daddyman will never see it at all. Oops, there's that sarcasm again. I really do need to stop today.

Daddyman, I love you so much and I am so proud of you and proud to be your wife. I can't wait to be with you again and to share every ridiculous moment of life with you. SMOOCH.

P.S. Today I am thankful for my Dads. Both of them (mine and Daddyman's dads) are in the backyard slaving away to build a playground for their grandkids.