Summer Time Crazy | Raising the Boys

Summer is coming to an end. The evenings are still long and the heat still lingers, yet school is just around the bend.

And the arguing still persists.

The screaming.

The yelling.

The "keep your hands to yourself."

The "just leave your brother alone."

The slamming of doors. The banging on the walls.

Oh, the sweet, sweet sounds of summer.

Don't you just love it?

Guys, I love my children. I do.

But I need them gone. I need to find where my patience ... and sanity went to. Because Summertime is legit killing me. My brain doesn't function.

I'm constantly raising my voice - even though I've been trying SO hard not to. I really am. I try to be patient when the middle boy gets frustrated.

"Use your words, tell me calming what the issue is."

I try to remain calm my my eldest (ADHD/Autistic) boy loses his shit when he's told to correct a chore he didn't do right.

"Take a deep breath, I just asked you to move those dishes out of the cup cabinet."

I try, y'all. I really do.

But after the 25th time of saying something calmly. Saying something differently. Saying something positively - and it still doesn't work.

I lose my shit.

You know what the worst part is? I was away from them for 17 days due to military training. Seventeen days I missed them and wished I was with them.... but secretly enjoyed my quiet evenings alone in my barracks room.

You homeschool parents are my heroes. You truly are. I am counting down the days... the hours, the SECONDS until I can push the boys into their classrooms and "Hunger Games" peace sign the teacher and then RUN away.

End of August. The end is near ... the end is near.

How do y'all keep your sanity during the summer? In general?

Marathon of Remembrance | "Werkit Out" Wednesday

This Werkit Out Wednesday is a tad different. It's not sharing a workout rather explaining my experience of my first marathon.

I know right?!? A MARATHON? Why Shari? Why?

Shit, I don't know why. I really don't.

But I do know it was an experience that I wanted to share with you. Something so important to me that it took my a while to put my thoughts together to share it RIGHT with you.

The White Sands Missile Training Range Bataan Memorial Death March Memorial Marathon was held on Saint Patrick's Day this year. I put my green beer on ice, as I decided that this marathon would be one of the most important "races" I would "run."

I did it not only to meet the REAL heroes, the survivors. But I also did it to see if I could do it. I now realize I REALLY did it to prove to my children that even though your don't want to do certain things in life, you have to suck it up and do it anyway.

And hell, you might even surprise yourself in the end.

Leading up to the race - I wasn’t as nervous as I thought. People asked me about my thoughts and if I was prepared but I didn’t have any words. I really didn’t have a goal time, I just wanted to survive.

I really didn’t “train” persay for it and I really didn’t know what to look forward to. I know so many badass people who didn’t make the walk. Granted they went in military boots and wearing heavy rucks - but I wasn’t the nervous I am accustomed to.

It was a “will I make it?” Kinda feeling.

I luckily eased conversation with a friend who would be doing it as well into “would you want a walking partner.” And luckily she said yes. I didn’t want her to feel like she HAD to so I had asked what her goal was & when she said to see the survivors and finish... I knew I could ask if she wouldn’t mind a tag along.

As the days ticked by, our two man “team” turned into four of the most awesome people. But honestly, Team RWB Eagles showed up from around the country and we had THE BEST showing of support out there.

I was so ready to get sunburned and sweating my butt off, but it snowed the day prior to race day.

Like what the what?!

Now I had to rethink how I was going to pack my bag. I originally only was going to pack water, socks, sun screen, and my hat with a few snacks. Now I was packing gloves, a knit hat, my jacket... etc. I was freaking out.

I wanted to run/walk the course but now my pack was fluffier and heavier.

Thanks Mother Nature.

In the end, I carried way more than I really needed to. I had a first aid kit, mole skin, more socks and snacks then needed, but I guess better to have and not need than not have and need?

I had heard so much about meeting the survivors of the real death march so I was so excited to see these heroes. I wait through the ceremony and when the canon went off we began to shuffle out the gates, but no survivors.

I was incredibly disappointed.

I wanted to shake their hands and I wanted to thank them. But no survivor was to be seen. As we were herded down the road, I did pass a few wounded veterans as well as meeting them again further down the trail. But no Bataan survivors to thank, the whole reason why I wanted to do this memorial challenge.

We hit the dirt path and my frustration melted away knowing that I had a long journey ahead of me and I was still doing this for all the fallen heroes who can’t any longer. Our four man, makeshift team was in good spirits.

The sun was beginning to hit the horizon and the colors painted the sky orange, red and purple. The jagged mountains in the background were gorgeous with the early morning sun hitting them and the snow capes tips glistening. It truly was a sight and I kept kicking myself for not bringing my REAL camera.

Shit - I was carrying everything else in my bag, why no my big camera? My iPhone was going to have to do.

We continued up and down the dirt pathway. Sharing stories and laughs. We jogged a little. We walked a little. We didn’t have a goal to hit, we just wanted to complete the challenge. We passed an amputee and we were silent as we had just been complaining about our knees hurting.

We stopped at many water/aide stations to grab snacks, water, gatorade, use the bathroom and rest just a tad. The asphalt up a long, gradual hill nearly claimed my motivation, especially since my team were “angry walking” faster and faster! Haha! I’m a slow walker - that’s for sure. But then a man with a speaker playing 90s music danced up next to us and gave me my motivation back.

Yes - I screenshot the watermarked image. Thank you Marathon Foto, you guys are
some of the real MVPs of the day.

We climbed higher and higher, turning back into a dirt path and the snow became more present.

 

The yellow, desert poppies were in full bloom, popping up out the snow covered desert. A Blackhawk (medical) flew over by and wondered why my ride left me behind - I kid.

I’m a sucker for aircraft!

The Border Patrol on their horses looked so majestic in the poppy fields.

It’s amazing the people who came out (voluntold or not) to ensure our safety. The Border Patrol, the Soldiers/airmen, the military police and the many others I didn’t recognize. The volunteers at the water/aide stations were amazing, Smiling and cheering us on even tho I was one of 30,000 people they’ve seen and would see throughout the day.

When we hit mile 14, a water station with burgers and dancing volunteers continued to cheer us on. People stopped to enjoy food but we didn’t. We weren’t feeling food - but I did stop to change my socks. The first time since I started.

One tip I was given by many Bataan finishers was bring lots of socks. I packed 6 and had plans on changing them often... but only changed at mile 14 and honestly - didn’t need to. But I was also wearing trail running shoes and not boots. Which, I believe, saved my feet. I did have a few hotspots on the ball of my left foot so, it’s possible the sock changed saved it from becoming anything more.

Mile 17 crept on us and my heart began to pound. Only once before did I ever walk more than 17 miles. And it was 18 miles. For the army. In uniform and boots. With a pack on my back. It was for the German Armed Forces Badge that I so desperately wanted to get silver in.

We hit mile 18 and we continued on. The unknown was ahead of me. Would I make the entire 26.2 miles (and a tad more)? I had no clue. I hadn’t ever walked further than 18 miles in my entire life. I never wanted to. I mean who actually WANTS to? A marathon was never in the books for me. Never on a check list. Never had crossed my mind.

But I made it to mile 19 - and get this, my feet didn’t fall off. Mile 20, mile 22.... I was still moving. I hurt. But I was still moving. By this point we weren’t running anymore. We had hit loose sand and my mind began to play tricks on me. My back hurt. My knees were aching and my buddy and I had stopped talking. It was getting hot - despite the snow we had seen higher up.

The loop of trail and sand heading back to the asphalt hill just seemed to last forever. We kept playing leapfrog with another pair of walkers and we’d share a few words of humor or anguish...then continue on our way.

At mile 23, we finally hit the asphalt again and it was all downhill back to the finish line - now remember, my GPS tracking watch had died at mile 10. I was purely going off of the signage and my partner’s watch. She said mile 23 and all I kept telling myself was just a 5k to go.

Just the Fort Bliss parade field loop left (where I run with my stroller pushing momma friends).

Mile 24 seemed to last forever as we caught up with some of the half marathon wounded warriors, but was very humbling. Here I am, complaining about my back and my knees hurting and aching - and a hero who’s lost two legs in combat is walking thru the sand with his team because he can no longer pedal his hand crank bike. His team members steadied him as he slowly and wobbly took each step by step thru the sand.

His service dog ran ahead of us, living the life in the gorgeous day. She was smiling, tongue dangling as she ensured the trail ahead was clear for her best friend.

Mile 25 finally appeared and my partner forced encouraged me to run the final mile. She was ahead of me and continued to push me to the finish line.

And then I heard it, “There’s mom!” “Go SHARI!”

My family was waiting for me at the finish line. Camera in hand, cheering me on. I heard my name a few other places as I ran the final distance to the line.

My teammates (Team RWB), my friends and my family all get credit for getting me to that finish line.

At the end, I was congratulated by a medal. Something I didn’t think I was going to get. In the past, no medals were given to the finishers. It wasn’t about the medal - it was about honoring the heroes’ who endured hell. But today, they gave medals to all of us finishers.

And guys, I couldn’t even put it on my neck for at least 30 minutes. It felt heavy - not only in weight but in doubt of ownership.

Bataan (the REAL Bataan) has so much disparity tied to it. Many American and Philippino soldiers died as they walked miles upon miles - not knowing when they’d finish. Not knowing where they were headed (evidently to another prisoner of war camp).

They didn’t know what awaited them.

They endured harassment, abuse, and illness trying not to be the one who was too slow and end up being shot to death.

I at least knew it was 26 miles. I knew I’d get a beer and burger at the end. I knew I’d be going home at the end.

This is what it's about, a true survivor finishing the honor half marathon memoriam walk.

I finally put the medal around my neck. I felt proud to have accomplish my longest run/hike ever. I felt love as my family congratulated me. I felt good. I didn’t have blisters. I had made it.

I came in at 7 hours and 3 minutes. I finish 218 out of 976 finishers. Just to bring light of the difficulty and the difference between participant and finisher ... we started off with 1236 in my category. (There were 8688 total participants this year)

Yeah.

Is it something I'll do again?

Nope.

But I did it. And I whole-heartedly encourage anyone to attempt the march as well: it’s humbling. It’s exciting. It’s a gorgeous trail. And it’s satisfying.

Do it.

But be prepared. I definitely packed way too much stuff. But I’m glad I had the stuff than not to have it.

I had packed 6 extra socks and used 1. I had packed a first aide kit, but didn’t need it. I brought lots of snacks but only ate my gummy energy blocks. I packed hydration and energy tablets - and used one. I had a scarf, head wrap thing and never had to use it to protect me from wind or dust - but it came in hand protecting my neck from the sun.

If you've never done a half marathon before, I highly encourage you to do so before tackling this monster of a challenge ... and most definitely run miles on dirt/sand/gravel. Go for a hike up some trails that have elevation changes. Run hills ... this is one thing I absolutely hate but wish I had done. Be prepared for weather changes ... so train in shorts/pants/capris/hats/gloves/tanks etc. One huge rule for all runners is that you train as you race. Don't change up anything race day.

Most of all, find people who will support you along the way. Whether it was an early morning text from a friend saying, "You've got this!" or "Breath, you'll do fine." To a walk/run buddy to chat with. There was the camaraderie of my Team RWB and of course, my family and supporters waiting for me at the finish line. 

You really can't succeed this challenge without support.

Even though this wasn't on my bucket list, it is now scribbled onto it and SCRATCHED out. Because I'm never doing another Marathon again! 

What is something you said you'd never do, but did and ended up learning from it??

Oh, and if you're wondering - yes, us Irish folk did get our St. Paddy's Day beers and celebrated the holiday in good old fashion glory ... at the bar. 

Playground Quickie | Werkit Out Wednesday

You guys hear me say it all the time. You don't need fancy equipment to make a workout happen. 

Shit, you don't even need a sitter! 

(but it would be nice i'mma right?!)

It warp speed ... I kid. But seriously, here's a 20 minute workout in a few seconds.

I ran to the nearby park with my two youngest kiddos and did this as one napped in her stroller and the other played.

15 standing pull-ups using playground equipement

20 step-ups (10 each leg) using playground stairs (or bench)

10 elevated push-ups using bench

25 v-ups using bench

20 bicycle crunches

Repeat 3 times

Get out there and Werkit Out Peeps!!!

As always, I am not a trained exercise coach. I am not a doctor. I assume no liability to any injuries you may endure. You should seek medical advice if you are planning on starting a new exercise regiment. I'm just here to show you there are options to get in a workout while being a busy mom. 

Here we go again | PCS take 2 | My Hot Mess

As y’all may remember from my other recent PCS post, HERE, we are months from heading back to Fort Bragg, NC.

We are months from starting ALL OVER again.

Okay, I’m being a little melodramatic. I mean, we aren’t starting ALL over again. We did live there before.

FOR 12 YEARS.

So I mean, we have that going for us. BUT we did sell our home. So we’ve been in the process of finding a new home. Of course, we know the area and we are using the same trustworthy realtor that sold our home to find us a new home.

But shit y’all, shopping for a home across the country BLOWS!

We are using the app ZILLOW to look through homes. We did the same thing when we moved to Fort Bliss, Texas to find our rental home. It’s a great app - if the sellers’ realtor spends the extra moola to have a professional take pics of their home! I mean - that’s really how we’ve decided in the past where we were going to live in El Paso because when you’re deciding between a home that has “meh” pictures and a home that has outstanding photos detailing all the good in the home - of course you’re going to pick the better photographed home!

I guess I’m close to this matter anyway, being a photographer myself and having friends who photograph homes for a living. But I mean, come on guys! If you’re selling/renting a home and your realtor/home manager doesn’t hire a professional photographer - find yourself another realtor.

Okay, off my soapbox - main point of this post is that trusting the realtor you’re working with is crucial. Our realtor, Amethyst, has walked us through every process. And lemme tell ya ... we've had a lot of dumb questions. She’s a military spouse as well and understands our struggles and the current market. Not to mention, has a great network of people around Fayetteville that take care of her clients. We felt it when we were sellers and now feeling it again as buyers.

Yes, this is a little plug for her but also a little lesson in PCSing and buying a new home. Granted, we've only sold one house and in the process of buying our second one. I know others have WAY more experience at this. But I have heard some horrid stories about not being able to find housing once getting into town - both on post or off. (At any installation - no one specifically). Large families staying in hotels for weeks upon months...animals being kenneled for long periods because temporary housing wouldn’t allow etc.

I knew that I wanted to come to a home the second we got in town. That's what we did coming to El Paso, that's what I wanted to do again. We spent 5 days in a hotel in Fayetteville because we had sold our home but we couldn't leave for a few days with our three pets (our children were luckily with grandparents) when we were coming to El Paso - and it was cramped and not fun. Could you imagine a family of 5 with two (our cat died while in Texas) animals in a hotel?!?!

No thank you.

Using Zillow, we’ve been able to browse many houses in the area(s) we preferred and bid on one - unfortunately as perfect as it was, we lost the bid. Like it was perfect y’all. Lol.

It was disappointing for obvious reasons but also because our realtor was amazing in setting up quick house tours for us and videoing her walk thru. Like - how amazing is that?! She took the time to walk thru the homes for us and not only give her opinion of the house but to video it for us so we could see the state of it right at the moment. Giving today’s technology - this is crucial. Again, trusting your realtor and knowing he/she will work for you to ensure you get what you want is CRUCIAL!

But we got back in and searched newly released homes and bid on another - after much anxiety. We are currently under contract for it - YAY!!! So fingers crossed everything goes well and we will be homeowners once more.

I’m excited to be able to have an address to forward mail, to change billing info to, to fill out in school applications, to make cute mailing stamps with, and all the other change of address things that need to happen.

Another tip I suggest is having someone you trust who lives in the city (if you have that luxury) to set up an appointment to walk thru the home as well. I have a friend here who had her sister walk thru a home before they put an offer in. I will probably try to fly out to walk thru the home before closing BUT if I can't, I'll be sweet talking some of my friends out there to help a sister out!

VA Loans ... I'm not the subject matter expert here. But all I can tell you a this moment is, your realtor SHOULD be able to dumb down the process to get you to the right lender to get everything settled. You shouldn't have to do anything except submit the proper paperwork for your credit to be scanned and wait for a lender to accept. Running credit is always scary ... at least it is to me and I have fairly good credit. I always wonder what the lender is thinking when they see bank accounts cross by and they're like ... "that's ALL they have in savings?" or "They think they can buy a $200K house on that income?" haha! I'd love to be a fly on the wall.

Put into considerations as well, even though the house we are under contract for isn't exactly what we wanted, it is pretty damn near close. AND we kept telling ourselves - it's not our forever home. I think military families ... and families that move a lot in general for work or other reasons - think this often. I mean, you just need a place to live in and tolerate for the time you're going to be working at said location. You want to be comfy, you want to have luxury, and you don't want to hate the home you're living in for 2-5 years.

I believe looking for a home that isn't your forever home is much easier. I already pity the realtor who is going to help us find/build our forever home ... wherever that may be. (We still haven't figured out where we want to retire .... LOL ) I'm a picky so-and-so and my husband requires certain amenities and well ... we want a diamond studded mansion on a Ramen dinner budget.

Happy PCS season ya'll and here's to finding the home you're dreaming of for this adventure.

Don't Reinvent the Wheel | "Werkit" Out Wednesday

I’m not afraid to admit that sometimes when I need to work out and it need to be a QUICK workout, I go to Pinterest.

There’s all kinds of cool pins that deal with workouts that hit certain parts of your body. Why reinvent the wheel to make your own??

Here’s one that I did. (HERE)

I needed the workout to be real quick. I can't remember why I needed it to be fast ... but I assume it was because my life is chaotic and the kiddos were crazy and I just needed it  to be quick.

Really don't need a reason I suppose!

So, the littles and I did a quick run and then I looked up on Pinterest and scored this awesome workout score work out.

The children did not want to cooperate at all.

They were all over the place running around and jumping on me (basically, being themselves). 

I grabbed a toy for the little girl to kind of chill and play with. My son played on his bike for a little bit. He also worked out his core with me for a little bit. 

But mostly he just bugged his little sister. There was a lot of "don’t do this," "don’t do that," "stop that," "don’t touch her," or "leave her alone," and "why did you take that" and so on and on. 

However, I got my workout on. It was a beautiful day. AND the kids got to see me trying to stay healthy.

Hopefully, this will encourage you and my children to just do it. 

Even if you steal borrow a workout from someone else!

A Picture Doesn't Lie | "Werkit" Out Wednesday

I have a confession to make guys.

I don’t see the point of eating healthy and working out regularly.

I mean, if I'm working out I feel like I should be able to eat anything I want.

Makes sense right?

However, I'm getting - ahem -  older and it’s much harder to work off the food that I've just inhaled.

AKA - cookies, hamburgers, tamales, tacos, cake ... I could go on and on. 

My pants weren't fitting like they used to and I knew I had to do something about it.

I decided to do a two month challenge with a group of people who shared the same goals as I did, including my husband.

And you know what? It wasn't horrible. 

It was nice because I wasn’t the only one being held accountable for what I consumed. I had to be held accountable to my group because we wanted to win. We weren’t winning anything personally for ourselves - meaning money for us. We were actually going to be winning the right to choose which charity we wanted our "buy-in" money to go to.

Not only were we helping ourselves get healthier, we were also helping a charity of our choice. 

If I cheated on a meal or I cheated on a work out, it wasn't just me I was cheating on but the entire group as well. And that appeared to be the consensus throughout the group.

I suggest getting with a group and try to earn towards a goal together. Especially if you really, really, really want to meet your goal. 

Anyway, we had to take pictures every week to show the scale number and also pictures of our body. It was not a pretty sight because I couldn't look at myself, let alone show others what I looked like. My body has been so stretched over the years that it is really hard to be proud of what the body can do. It truly is amazing that three children were MADE inside me and I'm so proud of that. 

Confession - Though, a part of me will always grimace at the sight of the stretch marks or the sagging skin. (I'm really working towards loving myself the way I am.)

Let me tell you though, taking pictures every so often to show your progress is what everyone needs to do to visually see what is happening to your body. It's not all about the number on the scale!

I told my coach that I wanted one of those awesome before-and-after pictures that I see all the time on TV or through health groups. Even though my change wasn’t significant within those two months of the challenge, I could see a difference and that’s what kind of pumped me up. 

I ended up losing quite a few inches around my waist and some pounds. I was (and still am) pretty proud of myself. I was proud of my husband. I was proud of my team. We had all done really well. (even though we didn't win)

What really got me was when a Facebook memory showed up. It was a picture of me holding my six week baby girl at one of my recent workout groups. Yes, I had just been cleared to workout and yes, I just had a baby. But I quickly scrolled over to another recent picture of me at one of my running group meetups. The change was amazing.

It was crazy. I could see the difference. I was rounder in the before and I had defiantly thinned out in the more recent image. 

The weekly pictures from the challenge showed my slow progress. But the year difference photo showed my success!

Take your progress pics guys. It will pump you up! 

A picture doesn't lie!

Dealing with Autism | Raising the Boys

Autism.

This is our life now. The meltdowns. The constant repeating of tasks. The continuous bickering of a too literal big brother and a little brother who just doesn’t care for facts.

This is us.

Shirt by Sunshine & Spoons

The chaos will always follow us. We will always come in full force and interrupt your quiet. I’ll always be the strict mom and I’ll always be the momma bear. 

My boxing gloves will always be on to fight for him at school and my apologies will come like second nature for behavior.

Little brother will always be the antagonizer - no matter what.

I’m not sure what little sister’s roll in this mess will be but I do know she’s teaching him responsibility and patience.

I know I haven’t blogged much about what’s going on in our family - I mean the holidays came fast and furious with lots of sugar, excitement and more stimulants then you can count.

We are exhausted.

Now with 2019 here and his 12th birthday behind us we I can refocus and blog/journal more about our experiences.

I finally bit the bullet and joined multiple autism support groups on Facebook. I wanted to see how others deal with this diagnoses but mostly I wanted to finally talk to people who understand. ADHD/High Functioning & Autism is a bitch. Mix in puberty and ohhhhh hell. 

Watch out. 

I don’t know what the diagnosis is and what puberty is. His actions are all over the place. He’s started to get more agitated and less patient to the unknown.

I learned the word “stemming” recently and boy, does that bring a lot more knowledge to what he does & why. Stemming is something an autistic person does to calm, concentrate, focus, and/or protect themselves when things get chaotic, too exciting, too scary, too boring etc.

My son has two types of stemming I’ve noticed so far - when frustrated he brings his hand to his head and squeezes (sorta like pulling his hair as well). And he also flaps his arms - he calls it dancing but to me is more like flapping. Before we would make him stop flapping because, well, it looks ridiculous. But now that I know what it is- we are trying to ignore it.

The squeezing of the head is a little more worrisome only because it sometimes involves him hitting his head on a wall or punching himself. Though, we don’t want him to hurt himself, it’s great to know why he is doing it so we can slow down and rethink how to approach him. 

The women I’ve talked to thru these Facebook groups (and close friends who are going through their own struggles) empathize and relate. They also bring up how they’ve dealt as well as sometimes tell me to suck it up because I was chosen to be his momma and no one else. And I love their tough love because well, autism is our life now.

Shirts by Sunshine & Spoons

Ready or not.

It won’t run us, but it will guide us.

Not Giving a F*ck | My Hot Mess

Do people really not care what others think of them? 

Like, do they say they don’t - act like they don’t, but then go home to the quietness or lay in bed in the darkness and think about what others have said. 

I mean, I feel like we were built to people please - or at least attempt to be seen as “good and righteous” in the eyes of others. If someone says something about you and you truly don’t give a flying fuck - are you being true to yourself? 

I really want to know. 

I try to not care - I’m a grown woman and in my teenage years I spent way too much time and effort on trying to appease people that didn’t care about me and in the long term, didn’t even matter to me. Lots of wasted time.

So, I feel like I’ve learned from that experience and now only put effort to what will help me grow and build better relationships, but will make me mentally stronger. 

But no matter how hard I try- people get to me. I’m a person who strives to be the best version of myself. 

Yes, I have my faults and I can agree with you on that, but I try to not let people down on a day to day basis. The worst "punishment" to me while growing up was when my father (only once) told me "You disappointed me." And I deserved that because what I did was stupid and definitely the wrong thing to do.

How can one person’s opinion of me affect me to the point I’m writing this blog?! 

One comment. One measly comment that said I wasn't adequate enough to do what I do that it attacked my brain into rethinking I'm not as good as I thought I was.

What the hell.

How do you bounce back from that?

Many friends tried to comfort me.

"It was only one comment, Shari."

"A fluke -- just a fluke, Shari."

"You don't need to worry about one's opinion when it's obviously wrong. You have many other compliments and accomplishments to let this one comment affect you."

They all meant well. And they validated me.

But I'm a people pleaser. Why didn't this one person like me? 

"You shouldn't give a fuck about what others think of you."

I know ... but how the hell do you do that??!?!!?!

Does it stem from low self-esteem?

I shouldn't be suffering from that. I know my worth. It's taken a long time to find that inside.

Does is stem from not truly understanding yourself?

I could see that. I'm still trying to figure out the way my brain works and how to better myself. I don't think one SHOULD fully understand themselves because you SHOULD want to better yourself. 

You're not going to please everyone. I get it. But why be rude about it. It cut deep. 

Complimented everyone who was with me ... but blatantly called me out. Was it to stop me from doing what I do? Was it to give me some sort of punishment? Or whatever I did to you hurt soooo badly - hurt your character soooo much - Hurt your manhood soooo much - that you needed me to dwell on it and cause me pain as well?

Because that's what you did.

But it's cool. I will learn to live with your comments and will use them to better myself. Because my supporters are right. You're just one person, and I shouldn't beat myself up because of your lame, cowardly comments (because you couldn't say it to my face). I will use your foolish comments to help me grow - both in my profession and mentally.

I too want to learn how to not give a fuck. But until then, your comments will get me closer to that goal. You can push me down, but you can't stop me from getting back up.

When Barracks go Wrong | Wearing Stripes

Guys ... I know it seems like I complain.

A LOT.

But I really don't.

I mean, sure - I guess the complaining is what makes a "story" interesting. I mean, would you want to read about someone's life that was perfect in every single way?

I know I wouldn't.

I'd hate that person for being so awesome and I wouldn't be able to compare.

SO --

Here's my complaint number 5,009,394 of the military life.

I have been really lucky to have PCS'd to a new location with my husband and have my old unit be rather workable. They've let me "drill" with other units and they've been pretty cool about me taking physical fitness tests with my husband's unit as well as keeping up to date with my weapons qualifications.

I mean, I know a lot of other units who are horrible and don't take care of their soldiers. I keep up to date on annual health screenings and my soldiering tasks ... and well, I'm pretty good at my job. So my unit lets me be.

So when they say I HAVE to show up, across the country, for a day's certification class (with two extra days of travel) - I obliged.

I mean, I wasn't happy about it. I also only got notice of it a few days prior. BUT - I obliged.

Shoot, during the country's longest government shutdown in history and they want to fly me across the country for a 10 minute certification and pay me three days worth of work?

I'm down. 

However ...

When I arrived to the barracks in which we were to staying - no one could tell me the building number I was in. "It's the second to last building on the left with the third flag pole in front of it and the 4th yellow door on the right."

An hour later - I find the room I'm supposed to be in and there were 9-10 females also sharing the open bay room with me.

And only one single key to the bay.

What in the actual world?!

We are all on different schedules and basically on a short chain to whomever has the key with them.

Ridiculous! 

Oh, and not to mention - no linens were available - WHEN we were told there would be linens available. Luckily, I brought a fitted sheet (thanks to my many Army friends who suggested things to bring to an open bay barracks) and a pillow case. When I got to my bed, there was a pillow - thank goodness. But after asking many National Guard peeps - no linen would be given out to us because they were "reserved" for the students that are staying in the same barracks.

Okay, I get it. Students first. They get first in chow, they get first rooms, they get priority, I get it.

But why the hell are we staying in barracks that don't have enough keys for their instructors OR linens?

Thanks to a local friend - because I went back to Fort Bragg for this - she lent me a comforter for my two nights I stayed in the freezing barracks with no heat.

My biggest complaint is this:

Had I not been local to Fort Bragg years prior, I wouldn't have had the support for resources that I did. I came from the west to the east coast. I was left hanging when I was told I would have the resources needed to sustain a somewhat comfortable living area.

Again, another shout out to my Army peeps for also suggesting bringing an extension cord. There were no electric outlets in the sleeping area. No where to plug in alarm clocks or - SHOCKER - cell phones to wake us up in time for formations.

I had always envied the higher ranking NCOs when I was younger. They always got the top of the line ... after the officers, of course. But I was like, "When I'm a senior NCO, I'm going to be living large."

Nope. 

I was wrong. You are always at the mercy of the military. You think you're cool and then the Army slaps the shit outta you.

All this to say - I'm glad I have great friends who look out for me.

You guys rock.

This also brings me to my recent barracks fiasco.

Fort Hunter Liggett is a beautiful post in California. I would suggest it to be a place for any outdoorsy person. The hills are gorgeous. The sunsets are breathless. The morning fog is beautiful and the history is awesome.

However - the post itself needs work. There's a tiny shoppette with odd hours. A commissary the size of a gas station. ONE gas station with 2 pumps. A bowling alley with 6 lanes and very good Mexican food. A small neighborhood for the ones stationed there and a beautiful hotel on the hill that we just stare at because we can't live there.

My first stay in the Army "minion" living quarters was ridiculous. These barracks were considered condemned for civilians but here I was. Lugging my huge duffle bag up four flights of stairs, nearly in tears when I came into the gnat infested bathroom covered in dust and grime. The room was decent, once I cleaned it. And after about an hour of scrubbing the bathroom ... I was able to go in there and not burst into tears. Though, the water would flood so by the time you were done with your 10 minute shower, you were now standing knee deep in water and filth.

Guys - we complained about the living quarters and what did they say to us? "Yeah, it's bad. It's considered inhabitable."

WTF.

Not to mention the broken ass door to the bathroom that someone got into a fight with in the middle of the night and just decided to keep it propped up and walk away ...

Pretty sure there will be a list put out within the next year or so for anyone who stayed on FHL's black mold infested barracks to get 20% disability just like the Iraq burn pits list that was released. No joke.

This past week, I was back at good ol' FHL and we got the privilege to live in the newer barracks that active duty normally stay in. I was pretty excited, until I found out there was no internet. (Even the condemned barracks had internet.) I know first world problems ... but I mean, we were expected to work out of our barracks ... and no internet. Sounds about right.

Also, the bathroom ... which had sensor lights would go black on you even when you were moving. The shower is a push button that runs scalding hot water on you for about a minute and then turns off. There's no temp control and you can only push the button about 4 times before it won't turn on anymore. Yeah ... fantastic. I never made it to more than 2 pushes on the button because my skin couldn't handle the 2nd degree burns and I just said "F it."

At 4am the lights to the entire building would magically come on and all we could do was cover our heads with the scratchy green blankets that were supplied to us (THANK GOODNESS).

I shared a room with a Master Sergeant who said when she arrived it was filthy and she had scrubbed the room down before I had arrived. There were no fridges or microwaves ... except one in the  common area on the other side of the building. People are staying here for days on end and you can't get them a fridge? Needless to say ... some black ops shit went down and we magically had a fridge and microwave appear. Though, a puddle of water also appeared under our acquired fridge the next morning that may have cause a slight panic as well ...

Guys, I complain. I know. But I can't make this shit up. The Army has been good to my family ... but it also has been shit. I guess that's how the world goes and you have to take the bad with the good.

Don't even get me started on the "Camp Crystal Lake" living quarters in the hills of FHL.

For everyone who thinks, "Be thankful my tax dollars are paying for all this." - Meh, not all that money is going to "spoil" us. We are roughing it. And you can believe me when I say this, I am one of the lucky ones. There are many other service members who have lived in dirt holes and ate horrible, stomach wrenching foods, bathed in unclean waters, and who have seen horrible things throughout their military careers. My complaints are moot compared to their struggles.

Thank a service member... even if never deployed - they've endured hell when it comes to living in barracks.