nightmares

I have this reoccurring dream. I am sitting in the center of a divided four lane street, in the center of a small town square. The division in the street is a good size division with grass and trees and plants. I am sitting on a black wrought iron bench underneath a cherry blossom tree that has been shaped to make an arch over the bench, providing shade to those using the bench. The street across from where I am sitting is not divided. There is a street to my left, leading away from the small square. To my right, across that half of the four lane road, is a long road of little shops. There is one stop light in this town. It sits at this intersection, moving the town traffic at the small "T" in the road. A few feet in front of me is a curb and directly beyond the curb is a crosswalk. There is a crosswalk, crossing the street to my left, but not one on the other side of the street.

For a little town, there are a lot of people out and about. As they shop, I people watch and enjoy the shade of the little cherry blossom tree. There is someone sitting next to me and they make happy chit chat with me about the weather and the people. There are birds chirping and it's a happy scene in a happy town.

Very suddenly, there is a weird noise. People yell, but I don't understand. I look to the right where the little row of shops are. There is a man waving to the person next to me. The man sees him and moves quickly to go talk with him. As I look back to the crosswalk on my left I see that there are many people standing about. Shouting. I don't understand. A flash of light in front of me catches my eye. A black Toyota Corolla has lost control going through the stop light. I see the car. It has four doors and a slight brown tint on the windows. And a chrome stripe on the side. The driver is staring at me pleading for me to move. Eyes wild and round. The car is sliding towards the center divide with its two driver-side doors facing the bench. Facing me.

I have no concept of what is happening. Everything is going really slow and I am confused. I watch the rear tire of the car hit the curb inches in front of me. The tire bends to a ninety degree angle and the hub cap goes flying. The curb knocks the rear bumper off and it and other parts fly slowly through the air. I look to my left again. There is a man there. He is sad at what he is watching. What is he watching? I still don't get it. I blink and look back to the chaos that is happening in front of me. Another blink and time catches up with itself. I quickly realize what is happening, but it is too late. I watch the car get closer. I suck in a huge breathe in surprise. The rear end of the car is crumpling as it gets closer from the force of it hitting the curb at the speed it was going.

I reach out, in defense, as the car gets closer, like my hand can stop the inevitable. I think about Rylee and how unfair it is she will grow up without her mommy. Then right as the car hits me...

I wake up. I had a teacher once that said reocccurring dreams were lessons you were not learning from. When I have this dream, I always wake up crying. It's the last thought before the car hits me. It gets me every time. I do not know what lesson it is that I should take from this. But I hate it.

The "B" Word

I have never had a proper education on the correct way to live on a budget. When I was a child my mother used to play "checkbook roulette" and talk about the nasty "B-word". I don't blame the woman for her poor money handling. She was a single-mother working 90 hours a week to keep a roof over a heads. She had no help from my "father," except for here and there when he decided to send a child support check. She did what she had to. I just wish "checkbook roulette" was not something she had to do.

In High school, they do not teach the importance of personal finances & savings, and using your credit wisely, instead I learn the importance of COSINE. Let me tell you how many times I have used COS in my adult life: Nope, can't think of once.

After high school, I didn't go straight to college. Instead I joined the ranks of the Engaged & Under Aged and got married. He had is fat grubby fingers controlling every little aspect of my life. He made the budget, I guess, then gave me the money he thought I should have. The good thing was that we managed to set a good foundation to begin my credit, the bad thing was that when we divorced -- a couple of years later -- I was let loose on a world full of plastic, with no job and NO idea how to handle it.

The next few years of my life were some of the hardest of my life. I was constantly behind on what few bills I had and at one point was living like a bag lady, out of my car and crashing at friends houses. Then one day God smiled at me and introduced me to J, who eventually became my husband. He had a previous few years that are relatively typical for a single guy in the military. They are so typical I don't even have to list them. He wasn't as bad off as I, but together we made a pretty sad pair. Credit wise.

Since we've been married we have struggled to pay things off that have haunted our credit reports individually for years. I think we have done pretty well. We have managed to pay quite a bit of unnecessary things off. I think we are both down to one or two things that aren't our house & our vehicles. One of mine is a student loan. What we haven't managed to do is create, follow & live by a budget.

The "B" word. Strikes fear in my head and makes my brain go from smart to empty at the same time. In my family, dropping the f-bomb may have gotten you a stern glare or a smack upside the back of your head. But the "B word"... It was like blaspheming the Pope inside the Vatican. When I think about how it was always referred to the "B" word, I understand why I never made my finances a priority. Who wants to learn about something so... scary? Seriously, just typing about it makes my stomach queasy. But it is time. I have lived so long in fear of the "B" word. I am adult. I cannot go on this way.

Today, I made an oath to myself: After the daycare is up and running, our finances will be my number one priority. I will be making too much money ((at full capacity)) not to stockpile money in savings and get rid of whats left of our debt. I no longer want to be in the situation we currently find ourselves. I can help my family. And I will.

Here's the truth:

I need a job. We aren't exactly drowning here, but like most Americans, we are barely keeping our heads above water. Right now you're thinking, 'ok Megs, why then are you spending money on horseback riding lessons you don't really need?' More truth: I don't have the answer to that. I like it. I need the break & the workout. Maybe it's wrong, but I feel like that $25/week helps save my sanity.

Any who, in need of a job, I have applied and applied and applied. And have gotten nothing, nothing and, you guessed it, nothing. Scratch that. I got something, once. It was an e-mail stating the company I applied with, needed my approval to start the background process so they could continue the hiring process. Call it false hope or maybe I really just wanted a job *that* bad; either way, the second time I received the e-mail, I decided to call the company. Guess what? The e-mail was from a company only trying to get me to buy my background check. ((Enter the "Womp, womp" sound here)) I felt like an idiot and was no closer to work than I started. Feeling stupid, I called one of my BFF's, Megan ((there's a lot of us)), and she suggested I start an in home daycare. At the time, I laughed it off. Honestly, the thought of having other people's kids in my house screams insurance nightmare to me. However, The amount of money I could potentially start bringing home to my family, staying in MY OWN HOUSE, with MY BABY, well, It got me to think.

I should insert here that I am so "Type-A" personality it isn't funny. When I think I may want to start something, I study and research and study and discuss EVERY little aspect of whatever it is until I have literally beaten a dead horse with information. I'm a little ridiculous. That being said, when I say it got me to think, thats exactly what I did.

I researched: my state laws, how many kids I could have, what the process was, what the average home-daycare charges per child. I even called and spoke with my home owner's insurance to see how much it would affect that. Then I went down to the Department of Human Services and spoke to them and asked them questions and got any information I could from them. Then I took ALL this information to my husband and said "hey, what do you think?" We had a long discussion and decided it sounds like a good opportunity.

Fast forward to now. I am in the process of getting a bunch of things accomplished, including CPR and First Aid certification, Childcare Provider Classes, and background checks - real ones, BEFORE the informational meeting. After that meeting I can turn in the complete packet of information and then I have a one on one meeting and an in home inspection and WHAM! Hello new business owner!

I am really excited for what this could mean for my family and for me. I have always wanted to own my own business and if its something I like I can do it for a long time, or not. All I just need now, is for everything to go smoothly. Maybe with a little luck, by September 15th, Sugar Bee's Hive will be buzzing with the pitter-patter of six full time children :o)

First Riding Lesson & Why I should stop being a snob

I am a snob. Not in the hoity-toity sense but there are some things I just HAVE to have a certain way. I like the way I make coffee. I only drink bottled water. I prefer certain brands to others. The list goes on. While it's not something I am particularly proud of, I own it. It's one of my querks, and it is what it is. This morning while I was getting ready for my first riding lesson, I was getting worried that I wouldn't like it because we were going to be doing English style riding. I am pretty sure that I even mentioned this in my previous blog on the subject. I know next to nothing about horse back riding except trail riding. I have been on a horse a handful of times, all western-style riding, and only once did I have a "bad" experience. It wasn't that bad; the horse started to crow-hop and buck and I calculated the risk, contemplated the situation, and then jumped down before I could be bucked off. It was actually really fun.

Worried about riding style or not, upon arrival to the stables, I was introduced to Tex. Tex is a magnificant dark chocolate brown Quarter Horse and He is a bit taller than me at his shoulder. At first I was a little uneasy. These are big animals. Regardless of how "easy" they said the horses would be, they could still kill me if they wanted to. After combing him, though, I felt more relaxed & I think Tex had gotten a little used to me too. I never realized how different the two styles of riding are until today. Its not just the riding, its the tac & the saddle, the posture & muscles you ahve to use. It was way easier to put the english saddle on. Four buckles, thats it. Sitting in the saddle was different too. Without the horn to hold too, your left with your thighs and stomach muscles to hold yourself in place. Which means you have to use good posture and balance. Also, because you don't have the front of the saddle to lean your hands on, you have to hold the reins up, over the horses neck. I NEVER knew how much of a full body workout English riding is. We walked around the arena a bit and then it was time to trot... and post. Posting in English riding is when the rider stands and sits, so-to-speak, in the saddle. If you have been riding western your whole life, it is very interesting to try and post. When I first started posting, I felt I was working in opposition of the horse. But as I got more used to it, it actually felt right. Posting is where the full body workout comes in. It is supposed to be 105 today and between the heat and the posting, I was done! At one point my thighs were shaking from the workout of posting. After we finished in the arena, we took their saddles off, sponged the horses off and gave them cookies. Then we let them loose in the pasture. I thanked Tex profusely for the great ride ((and workout!)) and told him I would be back next week to see him. Then my friend and I both hugged our new instructor.

Being a snob means that I am often left standing with my foot in my mouth. This is one of those times. Driving away, I decided that I need to stop being such a snob; at least about some things. I am always open to trying new things, I just think I won't like them. I am going to work on that. As for Tex, I will see him again on Monday ;o)

Thinking thankful thoughts today...

When I pray at night, I don't pray for my soul, or for money or for stuff or for things to happen. When I pray to God at night, it is to say thank you. Don't get me wrong, there are a lot of things I would like, but the truth is, I'm quite content with the life that I've been given. I am thankful for my child, for my loving husband, for his job, and our house. I am thankful for my wonderful friends and mine and my husband's amazing family. We are SO blessed. But mostly when I pray, I am thankful for the fact that J has deployed four times and that my little brother has deployed two times, and in all of that, neither of them was harmed. They got to come home and live their lives, no matter that they were changed by what they saw. I'm thankful for all those that went and came back. And I'm so very grateful, for those that went and didn't.

This morning on Fox News, they said that in the last twenty four hours eight U.S soldiers have been killed in Afghanistan. Eight. That's eight lives gone. Eight people who will never get to come home and see their loved ones ever again. Eight families torn apart by unmeasurable pain. Eight. Eight doesn't sound like that many; in the grand scheme of things, maybe it isn't. It's not even a percentage of all we've lost. But when you take into account that each person will have touched the lives of countless others, the ripples will go on forever. Eight, in twenty-four hours. Eight people taken, in a day. Such loss and all I can think is 'eight.'

Tonight when I pray, it will be for these eight people I didn't know and for their families. I hope they find peace in such a horrible situation. And as always, I will pray for all of those that went in theater and didn't come back alive.

Horses

Ever since I was a little girl, I have always wanted a dapple gray quarter horse. I wanted a gray and I wanted to name it Phillipe after the horse on Beauty & the Beast. I'm sure every little girl does, or at one time did, want a horse. Growing up in a single-parent family hindered a lot of things that could have been, while I was growing up. It wasn't until I was in my teen years that I was able to spend quite a bit of time around farms and ranches and people who had horses of their own. I always felt like when I was an adult I would have a house that would have a barn and I would have horses; it just hasn't happened yet.

Actually, when we moved to Oklahoma, the plan was for me to start lessons and learn how to properly care for a horse and how to ride and everything, so eventually I could get my own. Life is funny though, and instead of Phillipe, I got Bug. In April my friend and I started talking about finding a place to ride. She has had quite a bit more experience than I have and we always have fun when we are together. That brings us to now, four months later, we've finally found a place. It's really close to our houses and very family friendly. Which is great, because her daughter and Bug both have a little place to play while we are taking our lessons. Also, both of the girls LOVED the horses. M., my friend's daughter, was running around yelling, "Puppy!" Then going to the next stall, "Puppy!" Bug was laying down in my arms trying to get away. My arm finally got sore and I set her down in the hay and dirt. She loved it. At one point, we were petting a retired race horse and she had this look on her face, like she was seeing the greatest thing ever. They both were really cute about the whole thing.

Our English-style riding lessons start on Monday and I am really excited! I've only ever been around Western riding and when they said the word "English," I cringed a little. There isn't a place to ride western here, and since I don't have twenty g's to throw down on a horse, tack & barn of my own; English it is! The fact that the girls can be with us, only makes it that much better & on top of that, everyone there was like a big family. It was great!

Family

My father abandoned us about five years ago. I use the term 'abandoned' some what loosely, as he wasn't ever really in our lives & it's not like he just picked up one day and left. You see, my father was never really a big part of our lives. He always answered when we called and always picked us up at the airport the few times we went to visit. He always had issues paying child support.

When I was 20, I got to spend some time with him and during that time he apologized to me for never being more in our lives. He said that he wanted to be better and be a bigger part of our lives. He said he was proud of the way we had turned out even if he didn't really have that much to do with it. It was the first time I felt like I may actually have a real relationship with him.

A little while later, I moved from FL back to CA and our relationship kind of slid back to me calling whenever I could. At this time, my little brother joined the army. When he got to AIT, we were informed there was a good chance that he was going to be deployed once he got to his duty station. After his training, he was given two weeks off before he was to leave for Iraq.

I called my dad and asked if he would come. He said he couldn't afford it, but that he would call my brother. He never did. He wouldn't even return my brother's e-mails. This is the part in the story, where I begin to be fed up. At the time I didn't understand what was happening. Now, a parent myself, I cannot begin to imgaine my child going off to war and NOT calling to tell him I love him and how proud I am of him. Shortly after this happened, I stopped calling him and he, as always before, never called me. The last time I talked to him was in May of 2006.

I am ashamed to say that at some point during all of this my grandparents, became very ill and had to be put in the hospital. My Granmother was diagnosed with stage 4 Alzhiemer's and my grandfather had fallen and broken a hip and needed 24 hour care. I do not know which hospital they were in and I do not know if they are still alive.

At the beginning of last week, I was messing around on Facebook and I found someone with the same name as one of my cousins. It is a pretty rare name. My father has a brother, who is quite a bit older than him. My uncle is married and has two kids. I have never known them. I only remember meeting my uncle and aunt one time. I dont remember their kids at all. I couldnt even tell you what any of them look like. Seeing this name on facebook brought on all sorts of emotions. I stared at the screen trying to decide what to do with it. Eventually, I went out on a limb and sent her a message. She hasn't responded. There could be any number of reasons for the lack of response. Maybe it wasn't her. Maybe she hasn't been on yet and hasn't seen my message. Maybe that whole side of the family would just rather ignore the fact that my father has children rather than let us in and get to know us. WHatever the reason, I tried. I have done everything I could to make it work. To figure it out.

Part of me is missing. Half of me is out there somewhere ignoring the fact that I exist. The only peace I have about this situation, I get from my own little family. I see J with Bug and I know he would never do to her what was done to us. I know that she'll always have him even if something happen to me.

Its all in the name

I have been changing the name of this damn blog since I made it. I haven't been able to decide on one that fits. The truth is that while being a military spouse has made me who I am, it doesn't define me. J is the same way. His job is in the military it doesn't define him. We don't really do military-based functions very often. I tend to keep to myself, rather than hang out with a bunch of other wives. I just cant do it, there always ends up being too much drama.

The things that define me are the things that go on in our house. The things we do together as a family, the people we love that are here, spending time with us. There is always fresh coffee, a bottle of wine or something baking...

Welcome to Casa Del McIvor

Dang it, I lost it!

My motivation has totally left the building. Or, at least, I can't see it from where I'm sitting. That means it's gone, right? There is so much I should be getting done right now, especially because Bug is sleeping and it's SO much easier to do chores when she's not yelling from the baby gate. There is a lot I have managed to accomplish today: I worked out, I went to the lake, I... well shoot. I could have sworn I've done more.

Today is day two of picking back up on my workouts. I hate it before I do them, but I'm always so glad after I'm done. When I had Bug, I weighed 199.8 and I was eccstatic that I didn't hit the 200 mark. By the first of the year, I had gotten down to 165, Where I quickly plateaued. By April I was fed up with my weight ((and the roll)) so I joined weight watchers and J bought me an elliptical. In the first week of doing both, I lost eight pounds. I'm really weird about working out in front of people. The gym is my nightmare. All those skinny, tan girls in their cute matching workout clothes and all the 300 pound muscle heads throwing weights around, it just freaks me out. Of course being Irish and turning BEAT RED when I workout, doesn't help either. Not kidding, one time in a Bally Total Fitness a trainor stopped me 30 minutes into my 45 minute run and asked if I was alright because of how red my face was. I panicked an quickly left. So, I have a strict rule about working out in front of people. Yes, even J. That being said, as quickly as I got settled into my new workout routine, life happened and suddenly we had two house guests and I couldn't workout anymore. When they left, I left for Portland for 12 days. I was able to keep up with WW while all of that was going on and managed to lose another three pounds. Then another two. Woo hoo!! Down to 150 pounds! That was less than I weighed when I got pregnant with Bug!

As great as that is, its still not where I'd like to be ((145)). Not to help matters, last week I kicked all good-eating habits out the window and gained three pounds back :o( yuck. So Sunday, I said, "That's it! I'm losing this weight!" "What?" My husband called from the other room, "Who are you talking to?"

That brings us to now... me sitting here on the couch with no motivation. I guess I need to remind myself more of how far I've come, instead of what I have left. To date, I've lost 49.8 pounds. I know whats left is not much, but it feels so far away.

Our Fourth of July

Even though J picked up the new cycle on Thursday, because it was a holiday weekend, he had quite a bit of it off. He was able to get away Friday night for us to have a date to the Toby Keith concert. We met J's SDS and his wife, at the concert and my friend went to the concert with us, so we had a nice fun group of people. We were really excited about the concert. It's the one main event a year that happens in this little town and as a plus, the weather was supposed to be in the high eighties that day instead of the normal hundred-plus for this time of year. The concert was held on the Polo Field at Ft. Sill. They sold all 12,500 tickets prior to the show, promising for the field to be packed.

Of course, as soon as we parked the car and walked to the Polo Field, it started pouring rain. As promised it was already packed with people and lots and lots of Joe. With the start of the torrential rains, the Polo Field kind of turned into chaos for a moment as people were running for cover, parents tried to get their strollers and young children covered with what ever they had so they'd be out of the rain. The SDS's wife said they promised a show rain or shine, so we decided to wait it out. By the time we got into the roped off area before the stage, we were soaked all the way to the skin. I had thrown an umbrella into my purse before we left the house, and had managed to keep my head some what dry during the initial down-pour, but the rest of me was soaked.

As we walked up, DS's from other battery's were making fun of J and the SDS for being there with Joe on their night off. We promised to arm-bar or trip any that came near enough and continued on with out evening. Having a sitter for our girls and a designated driver to get us home safely, K and I decided to have some beer. We bought beer and sodas for the ones not drinking and settled into our night to enjoy the concert.

As promised, the show went on despite the rain . The first performer was Jaron & The Long Road to Love. He sang four songs, ending with his new hit, "I pray for you." It was awesome! It's a great song and he did a great job! The next set of performers, and the ones I was most excited about, were Joey & Rory.
The weekend started out great! I LOVE them!! I think they're the cutest thing ever! They did a GREAT show and sang my favorite songs of theirs. After they finished, and the crew was getting ready for Toby, K and I decided we needed more beer before the next act.




When we got back, Toby Keith came on stage. He was awesome!! He's all about the troops and sang a lot of his old stuff and some of his new stuff. Ending the show, of course, with "Courtesy of the Red, White & Blue." We were walking out when he started singing it, hoping to miss the chaos of everone else leaving. It was already 2230 and J and SDS had to be back at the battery at 0500. Toby Keith did an amazing job and we had a great time! It was nice to have an adult night.

We didn't do much the rest of the weekend, having done our celebrating on Friday night. J was able to be home for quite a bit of the weekend because of the holiday and that made it a great weekend!!

Creepy Me

I don't feel well today. I think I am coming down with some throat-thing. The last two nights, I haven't slept very well thanks to a particularly fussy baby and I think it is catching up with me. Not helping matters, J is on duty tonight, and I never sleep good when he isn't here. Its pretty sad actually. I am a grown woman and I hate to be alone, in the night, by myself. I start to "hear" things. Then I start to wonder what those "things" are. Then I start to wonder what I would do if I heard someone walk up the stairs. Would I go for the gun or the kid? What if I chose wrong and something bad happened? What if the house caught on fire? Could I get Rylee and the dogs to safety on my own? I'm not making this up; these are the things that go through my head. Sometimes I read to try and keep from focusing on all of the bad things that could-possibly-but-probably-won't go wrong. I'll read for a while and then start to wonder if when I move the book out of my field of vision, if someone will be standing there.

I try really hard to brush it off and be as normal as I can. It's not totally unwarranted, either. Our neighbor's house was broke into twice in one week, in the middle of the day. Of course, his bother was dealing drugs out of that house until he was arrested, but still, It's scary. Not to mention J's car was broken into right in our driveway. Being a woman in a house alone makes you pay extra attention to everything. It wouldn't be hard for someone to see that J wasn't home and to just come on in.

Still, I wish I could help the situation by NOT creeping myself out. It has occured to me this is probably a serious illness. Some deep rooted issue from my childhood. Sometimes I wonder if I will pass my psychotic-ness on to my kids.

Does anyone else do this? Or am I loner in this one?