I can tell the end of this deployment is in sight. Aside from the long to-do lists, the bags under my eyes, the new white hairs popping out all over my head (note to self: root touch-up tomorrow night!), and my constant desire for but inability to sleep, I'm also not explaining myself anymore. I've kind of decided it isn't anyone's damn business what's going on and, especially if you don't know me, if you have an issue with how my show is running at this point? Well, too bad.
At the beginning of deployment, I think I live under the disillusion that I will be able to be all things to all people. Then the deprivation of some of my favorite things (sleep, alone time with my husband, another adult in this house) sets in and I have moments where I cannot even remember important things, let alone peripheral ones. And, in those moments, I'm self-deprecating. I apologize profusely. I trot out that my husband is deployed, I'm just a girl in the world, and I realize I'm an abysmal failure and can someone please just put me out of my misery and forgive my ineptness.
But now? Hell to the no. I've made it. Almost. I'm soooo close to the end of this nightmare that I can taste it. Deployment is bad enough, but you throw in this adoption mess and, my friends, you have a perfect storm. At this point, I am thankful that the children leave the house on time, with their backpacks, shoes on, coats zipped and hair combed. If teeth are brushed and snacks are in the backpacks, I am ready to nominate myself for mother of the year.
Today I had the unfortunate occasion of realizing that M2 had been invited to a birthday party sometime last week. On various occasions, I remembered said party but either could not locate the invitation or could not locate the RSVP phone number at a respectable time to place the call. I pretty much gave up after locating the family's e-mail address in the school directory only to have it bounce back to me. I decided today I would call today and leave a message on the family's machine explaining that I had dropped the ball, and that while we appreciated the invitation, we realized we are well outside the reasonable window of RSVP'ing in the positive so M2 would forgo the party, but bring a gift to school on Monday.
The mother answered the phone. And, in a very short time span, my youngest was insulted (as the mother said it "didn't surprise her at all" that M2 had not forked over the invitation) and I was lectured (when OUR daughter talks about being invited to a birthday party, we MAKE her give us the invitation).
My immediate impulse? To make up some sort of reply that worked in how I've been doing this on my own for so long and I'm not all that great at it and whatever else. My second impulse (which, unfortunately, did not occur until after I'd hung up) was to reiterate my plan of her not coming, sticking to it and bidding this woman a fond adieu. Instead, I endured being spoken to by someone using the "I'm speaking to a telemarketer" tone who was telling me all the details of this party as a backhanded way of showing me just how much my phone call and M2 coming was inconveniencing her.
I wanted to select the gift for this child. I had my heart set on a huge set of Moon Sand as it is the Devil's work. I had designs on handing a beautifully wrapped box to the mom, telling her M2 didn't quite know what to get, so I selected the perfect gift for her daughter.
Unfortunately, M2 put the kibosh on it by saying, "I don't think she'd prolly be allowed to have this stuff because it is such a mess. I mean, we aren't even allowed to have it because of that."
So, we settled on a craft kit that allows the kid to make a pop-up books. Two hardbound books inside the kit and one can make the book about whatever one wants. A great gift, but a little too neat, quiet and non-annoying for me.
I can't decide if I didn't do the knee jerk, "I'm a single mother b/c of deployment!!!" response because I'm maturing or because I'm tired. Either way, it was a good reminder. I sometimes forget that I have no clue what is going on with other people and I have no right to really be aggravated at them. For that matter, I have no clue what was up with this woman today, but I guess for a first impression, I'd try a little harder? Maybe it's just that I have enough on my plate and I really don't need to worry about this woman's dysfunction and try to make me seem less lazy or crazy by pawning off things on deployment. I wish the most important thing I had to worry about was a kid's birthday party. Gosh. Those were the days!
I also wish I'd kept my kids being hermits. I had a good run. No activities or other things until kindergarten pretty much. And, no kid birthday parties outside school until about then too. Oh, well. I tried.
But not just my Mac being itself. Nope. It's my Mac displaying an IM session with my husband. Can't be beaten as a pick-me-up, that's for certain. I'm also fond of using Skype while we're on the computer--the video doesn't work for us because his internet connection is so pathetic, but the phone calls are great! If I close my eyes, it's almost like he's right here because the connection is so clear!
When I first had Triscuits, I couldn't believe I'd lived that long without them. Aside from a stray party here or there, I did not eat Triscuits on the regular until college. I'm pretty sure my first husband introduced me to them. He always had them in this house. They are amazing. You can do all kinds of things with them, but I love them plain with a big glass of orange juice on the side. My mouth waters just thinking about it!
Thank you, Nabisco.