All about this Army Wife

Ramblings of a Stay at Home Mom Products Store

I am now Mrs. Vanessa W. I am married. I am a stay at home mother, a maid, a chauffeur, a cook, and a financial consultant. I co-run W family Incorporated. Total number of employees, seven most of the time.

In another life I was a thin, well groomed some might even say pretty individual, who enjoyed leaving the house. An upcoming model (at least in the small town of Lawton, OK), a person who enjoyed the arts, theater and a night life of dancing and drinking until the wee early hours of the morning. A person who didn’t give a fuck what others thought, nor what they had to say. A naive young girl pretty much sums it all up.

My husband serves our great country as a member of the armed forces. God help us, he is the one who protects us!LOL My husband of now five years is a Black hawk pilot. For those of you who have had the pleasure, of meeting him, you know that he is an acquired taste, like a good wine. He is a sarcastic, smart-ass who speaks his mind. He’s is a wonderful, loving and caring man, well at least to me and our children anyways. But isn’t that all the really matters?

I Have lived in New York City, which is my hometown, although if you ran into me in the streets and heard me talk you never would have known that, as my husbands southern Mississippi accent has really rubbed off on me. I also lived in Newburgh NY, the place my parents brought us kids for a better life, out of the harsh city. What were they thinking? Perhaps they thought Newburgh would be safer, and in ways I’m sure it was. Newburgh is the melting pot of Orange County. The Real OC, not the West coast version. It is filled with others who wanted to escape from city life, yet continue to make the hour and half commute to work everyday. Yet all the teenagers still get on the train to grand central station to escape from suburbia and return to a sense of normalcy in the city. I remember when I was a teenager wanting to go hang out in the city, my father got really upset “We didn’t move out of the city so that you could go back and gallivant around it” Gallivant around it? I just wanted to get away from the people that were born and bread in Newburgh. At the time I truly believed that they were all stupid people, so closed off from the outside world. They had never been on a bus, on a train, or saw a museum, and this is where my parents wanted us to finish growing up. I was not happy with that. I remember crying to my mother, the first day of 9th grade, begging to go to the private Catholic school. Yup I wanted to go. The kids I met who were in the catholic school were all from the city. I could relate to them. But no, I was stuck going to south high. then moving to NFA. I was bitchy, (still am) moody and didn’t go out of my way to make friends. Of course I had a few, but I was usually off by myself in my own little world. I guess not much has changed from then to now. I still get lost in my own thoughts, and rambles. Even as I sit here now typing, I bounce back and forth from different time periods. So as I continue to type and ramble, for those who take time to read this, I am sorry for jumping back and forth. I am typing what pops in my head.

Over the last five years of my life I have moved for a grand total of six times. Three of those times were with in the same states just moving to new neighborhoods. Note to anyone who is pregnant- Moving while pregnant is not a good idea. Any life changing situation while pregnant is not a good idea. Your hormones are already running wild, then you add stress of packing, moving, unpacking… Its just too fucken much, as I had to endure moving both times I was pregnant. You’d think after the first time my husband would have learned that i don’t make a nice pregnant mover. Also moving with small children for anyone who was wondering is no picnic either.

Today I live in Enterprise Alabama. Alabama, not a place I could have ever imagine visiting, let along living. It’s like taking five steps backwards. Even my children know that this place is odd compared to other areas we have lived. We all think there is something in the water here, but maybe it’s just us. We are in the bible belt. Granted I might have grown up Catholic, going to church, receiving all the holy sacraments, I am by no means accepted here. Because I am catholic! This is Baptist Country here. I’m not a practicing catholic, and have not been to church in ages, though I am thinking about starting again. In this area, one of the first questions I am often asked is what church do you go to. Honestly what business of yours what church I go to? I know they are just trying to make conversation, but couldn’t they ask something else? I tell most people I’m catholic, but the ones who rub me the wrong way and just want to watch them freak, I say that i am a pagan, or atheist. Boy does that do the trick! Our oldest daughters boyfriends mother came to our home to pick up her son one evening, and that was her first question to us. My husband replied we are atheist and do not go to church. I thought this toothless white trash women was going to jump out of her skin! It was hilarious. She replied back back ‘don’t you know that Jesus is our lord and savor?” We replied we don’t need saving, we’ll go where ever the after life takes us. Again she got all bug eyed, as our daughter sat there in total mortification. We laughed for a second and told her that we are christian, just do not attend church as we can not agree on where to go, him being Baptist and me being catholic. Who would have known making a quick joke cured our problem of our daughter dating? The boys mother told him he was no longer allowed to date our daughter. Worked for us. But aren’t churchy people supposed to be non judgmental?? UMMMMM….. There I go again rambling… Back to topic, Alabama….. We have now been here 29 months…. This was only supposed to be an 18 month assignment, we however were not that lucky to be done with flight school in 18 months. My husband, hurt his knee, needed surgery and got placed on hold. He has now started flying again. And passed his first check ride in the Black hawk. I am so proud of him! He claims we should be out of here sometime this summer, lets hope for my sanity he’s right.

Well where do I begin, do I start from leaving New York, or from now…. I guess people would want to know some back story.

I married a man, who already had two ex-wives, and three children. Yes I know the odds were not in my favor. I’m still not sure what my parents really thought of me leaving New York to follow him all the way down to Tennessee. I met him in New York on a floating Barge Bar, Gully’s. It was supposed to be just a fling, I knew he was leaving, I had other guys I was involved with, it all didn’t really matter. It took me three or four days to call him back, after that we became inseparable. When it came time for him to leave and head home he asked if I would come visit. I of course said I would, and did. I went to visit him about two weeks after he had left. I fell in love with him and his children, and there was no turning back. I went home, told my parents I was moving, quit my job, grabbed my dog (we’ll talk about her later) loaded up my Nissan Sentra and drove straight to Clarksville, TN.

Looking back I have absolutely no regrets about that decision. I just think that if our daughter came home one day saying she was moving half way across the country to be with a man 8 years her Sr. with three kids, two ex-wives, I might try to talk her out of it. My mother was not happy with my decision to move, although she did not try and stop me. My father encouraged me to follow my heart, and not look back. Which is what I’ve done.

About a week after I moved in, Brad got orders to go to Drill Sergent school. So there I was, with his two oldest kids he has custody of, and their birth mother, Melissa. When he left for school Melissa moved in with children and me. Yes awkward for many, but its what we did, and it worked. I instanstantlisly stepped into the ‘mom’ role. Making breakfast, packing lunches, cooking dinner and spending my day at home, while Melissa was at work and Brad was off in school at fort lost in the woods. For the three months Brad was away, I went to visit him every weekend, leaving the children with their BM. (not to be confused with bowl movement, BM means Birth Mother) It was kind of like living in some sort of alternate universe. I moved to live with the man I was in love with, to end up taking care of his children and living with his first ex wife. I’m sure many if put in my shoes would have took off running and screaming. Melissa and I got along pretty well, we still do. We became friends. (if you are married to a man with ex wives and there are children involved, it will prove to be in your best interest if you befriend the ex, or at the least make a goof faith effort to get along with her). I think the time I had with the children without him helped our relationship so much. (our being me and the kids) They respected me, did what they were asked. There was no, ‘I’m not listening to you, your just daddy’s girlfriend’ they didn’t have a choice. I was the one there with them. Even with the presence of the BM, we worked together, not allowing the kids to divide us. If she said something, I backed her up, as she did me. Many step moms discuss, complain about the relationship they have with the kids, have alone time with them. The kids need to know you are there for the long haul, and that you are just as much of a parent as anyone else involved in the situation. I think, the kids and I having alone bonding time, was extremely beneficial. Anyway, when Brad returned home, Melissa returned to her apartment, and we received orders to move to Fort Sill Oklahoma. Which is what we did. That lead us to where we are now….

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Ramblings of a Stay at Home Mom Products Store

14 things you should NEVER say to a military wife!!

Last modified on 2009-06-28 02:51:31 GMT. 2 comments. Top.

Unless of course you are willing to take that chance on catching one of us on a REALLY bad day…
1. “Aren’t you afraid that he’ll be killed?”
(This one ranks in at number one on the “duh” list. Of course we’re
afraid. We’re terrified. The thought always lingers at the backs of our
minds —but thanks brilliant, you just brought it back to the front.
Maybe next you can go ask someone with cancer if they’re scared of
dying.)