The thought of fear brings the feeling of fear which re-thinks the thought of fear which makes it a doubt thought and double fear...

Sooo...
Still leaving the military...I think...paperwork apparently was "Lost in translation"??? See how efficient our country's safety department is? Hhmm...*think think think* Hmmm...

Also.
I have like 10 weeks left? *checks* 10 weeks, one day.

And made this huge mistake of clicking on some sites and watching some webversations about being a mom.
And now I'm about to have a panic attack.
What. Am I thinking??
Why would I choose to be a stay at home mom??
Why.
I'm 21 (nearly...like a couple more days, come on, totally counts), and I haven't finished school and I have so many things I want to do and I die inside every time I see a theatre because I miss acting and directing so much, and I was thinking of leaving the military even before prego due to knee problems and for some reason my little mind thought that I could be a full time mom while...being whatever else I wanted.

And I'm looking at this stuff and going "What...am I doing?!?! I don't WANT to be a mom and loose who I am and be so caught up in caring for my kid that I forget who I am and what I want to be when I grow up"
That was the way my mom was.
She had a strange way of trying to break out of it - she would find hobbies and obsess over them. Painting, crocheting, cross stitching, instruments (she can play I think 7 instruments now, and 4 of them excellently) and she would become amazing at them. She painted stuff that went to state and won and she was invited to the white house one year because her painting project was hung on their friggin Christmas tree, picked out of like 10,000 other people's. She cross stiched entire scenes and you stood back and they looked like a painting instead of thread.
She became incredible at whatever she did.
And then she would stop.
Once she excelled at it, she was done. There was nothing more for her to push for, I guess. And it always broke my heart because this was what I thought all those years - that she stopped her hobbies because she couldn't progress any further in her mind.

Until one day we had a conversation and I realized that she stopped it because she felt guilty that it was taking time away from the kids.
She stopped taking that time for herself and learning new things for herself and making new friendships, etc, because she felt guilty about it.
We never minded. Ever. We always were so proud of her when she would excel at something once again! We still look at that huge mural on the wall in the kitchen and go "You painted that after you had painted for a year??"
And look at the picture of her (and me :D I was her "companion" for the trip) and Mrs. Bush at the white house with the tree behind them and are like "Yeah...my mom is that awesome."

But apparently she was so consumed in her mind that she would step back and just stop what she loved because she felt guilty about it. And I think sometimes Dad would pressure her to stop because it would cost money - paints, thread, needles, canvas, etc
Which I think is complete bs.
Dad doesn't have any hobbies because he is consumed with work. 100% of the time.
Or mime (don't ask if you don't know...)
Funny thing is, his mime takes up 100$'s a year and all of his weekend time that he should be at home with mom during.
But he isn't.
He leaves before the kids get up, he's home around dinner, if it's not ready, he's upset, and I remember countless times it would be cold by the time he got there because he would be home so late and then he would be annoyed that it was cold.

Don't get me wrong.
I love my dad very much and he has been a great dad in a lot of ways - he coached my high school soccer team all through high school because of me and Micah. There was hardly a team the last season and he coached it anyway for us because he knew that we loved it so much. He kept the mime team going for Anne and Stephanie because he knew that they loved it so much and if he didn't do it, no one would. He really does a lot of random, meaningful things for us.
And I know its hard. He runs his own business and has a billion kids and he is concerned about money and providing, etc, etc, etc.
But what I wish he knew was that we would rather have him at home, playing with us and talking to us, etc, then we would have extra food in the house. Mom would rather have him at home to put the kids to bed on time then not have to create weird meals from random leftovers because we needed grocery's that bad.
Anyway.
This post wasn't about my dad.
This was about me being a mom.
And I'm freakin out.
A lot.
And I needed to vent and I don't wanna freak out my husband about it because he's under enough stress as it is trying to find a job in this effed-up Obama economy where apparently its more important to bail out a car dealership than lower taxes or start cutting the national debt. We can pull all those troops out of Iraq, super, whatever, you all know how I feel about that, but when they get back, start cutting military to save money for those bailouts - force them to retire, separate them for a few low run times, tell them they have to do a new job now - one they aren't trained to do and never wanted to do - after 1o years or else they will be separated...
And
Whatever.
Again. Not going to vent more on Obama. Just chattering I guess.
Sometimes its really hard not having a girl here to go to and freak out on. I love talking to Allen but sometimes I just need a girl to look at and go "AAA!! WHAT AM I DOING? *sob sob sob* Ok. I'm good. Lets go get our toes done."

-Shell