Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Changes, Changes, Changes

Some of you are aware of my mini meltdown yesterday. Some are not. I feel the need to explain myself.

I was expecting the husband's arrival sometime before lunch today. I spent my day yesterday making homemade spaghetti sauce and baking a cake in preparation for his welcome home dinner. I have spent the last MONTH planning his arrival dontcha know. I had this fantasy in my head of how things would be...okay maybe fantasy isn't the best word to use following yesterday's bow chicka bow wow post, but I am not talking about that. Just the overall way things would happen. Again, not that.

I found out yesterday afternoon that my efforts and mental images were wasted. His arrival is not when I thought. It upset me a great deal. There are reasons which I refuse to discuss, but there are also reasons that I will. One reason is that I am new to this life. The Army way of life that is. I have struggled this month with my moods and my mental stability (yes, I think I have some stability there). The one thing that kept me going was knowing he was going to be here on such and such day. You following me? I like to be prepared. I refuse to say I am a control freak, but I must be prepared. When what I have prepared for changes, it messes up my aura. Thus, the mini meltdown.

Logically, I knew that my sauce would be fine and who really cares if the cake is half devoured before he even gets here? BUT I had been telling myself for the last week that my hell would end on the 29th, and it doesn't. Alas, meltdown.

I also am aware that he is still coming home. I also know that some of you have waited a whole lot longer than a month for a visit from your husbands. I also know that your visit will end and it will be a lot longer until he returns again. However, I have to take it one step at a time. The pending depolyment is in the back of my mind. I am aware that I may be in a mental hospital locked in a padded room by the time I get my little two week visit from that period of time, but I can only deal with that when it comes. I know that I am clueless as to how difficult 15 months is without the one that you love. I know these things. I will eventually get used to this crappy life. I will eventually be able to know that you can't plan on anything when it comes to the Army. I learn by trial and error. I've had my error and now, I know.

I sincerely apologize if I bothered any of you with my tantrum yesterday. I will do my best to keep my tantrums from you. I am very aware of what you are going through. I feel like shit for complaining. Please understand, I had no intention of rubbing his arrival in your faces. I didn't mean to make it seem like my little month was anything compared to your 15 months. I really, really didn't. I can't imagine what you are going through. I can't imagine how difficult it is. Please, accept my apologies.

To the powers that be:

It is asinine to return soldiers, or depart soldiers for that matter, at crazy hours of the night. Some soldiers have families. Some of the families contain children. Some of these children attend school. Arriving (or departing) in the middle of the night is absurd. If you are going to continue to remove the father, mother, husband, wife from day to day life, at least be a little considerate of the disruption. Damn.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

What's On My Mind

I haven't written the last couple of days. There are good reasons for this, you see. In the very near future, the husband shall return from his month long GI Joe playdate. This means a few things to me:

1) I have to clean up the house so that he doesn't think I have spent the entire month reading and writing blogs.
2) I made a decision to make some changes around here, which I will not say yet because the husband may choose to read this before he gets here and that would thwart all of my efforts to SURPRISE him.
3) Most importantly, there is mostly one thing on my mind lately and I am sure that not everyone wants to read about that.

There are so many funny things that I would LOVE to tell the bloggyworld, but I can't. Wait, yes I can. I can and I will.

Yesterday, the husband and I were in communication via text message. I had a dilemma. I wanted a suggestion....or at least to pique his curiosity and drive him crazy in GI Joe land.

Me: Um I need to go to THE store. How should I accomplish this with the toddler? (If you don't know what THE store is, I am very, very sorry.)
Him: Take her with you.
Me: I will not take the toddler into THE store. Guess you will just have to wait till the weekend.
Him: I will NOT wait. Go. Now.
Me: What's a few more days? Friday will be fine.
Him: I am NOT WAITING. Take her.

Now, I sort of expected a question about why it was I needed to go to THE store, but no luck. His main concern is that he is not waiting. Can you imagine taking a toddler to THE store? It reminds me of the line from Sweet Home Alabama. 'Look at you. You have a a bar' replace bar with THE store and there ya go.

Later in the day, after a full day of shopping then busting my ass on my surprise, dealing with the toddler, and waiting in the line at school to get DQ, I had a brilliant idea.

Me: I think I will get a hotel room for just me on Wednesday and Thursday. You can have some quality time with the kids.
Him: What about bow chicka bow wow?
Me: Uh Friday?
Him: Uh Wednesday?
Me: I need to decompress.
Him: I need to (x-rated comment deleted).
Me: Ah. And you will. Friday.
Him: FINE.

I think he was perturbed with my idea. My brilliant ideas seem to be lacking in the brilliant department lately. Seriously. First the cupcakes. Then the bed. Oh, I haven't told you about that yet. The other day, I was window shopping online and saw this great deal on adjustable bed risers. Basically, they are these plastic thingys that you put under the legs of your bed to make it higher, enabling you to hide your mess under there. Perfect! I have lots of mess. I went to the store (I don't have the patience to wait for a shipment dontcha know), bought the things, and returned home to rise my bed. I get all four corners done and that was a JOB I tell ya. Then, I realize there is something definitely wrong with this picture. The bed is not flat. I look underneath it and see the problem. I have a king size bed with two twin frames underneath it! I need more risers! I am not in the mood to head back to the store so I un-rise the corners of my bed. Brilliant plans, lacking the brilliance I tell ya! Anywho, I did return to the store the next day, bought another set of risers and my bed is risen rose it's higher than it was dammit! I can hide all of my mess under there, which is exactly what I did. Straight up kid style. My room is CLEAN!

If I go missing in the next few days, don't panic. The husband is returning soon and we will be spending quality time catching up. I'll come back to blog about it though. Deal? No? You don't want to hear about that? FINE! See ya when I see ya...or write ya when I write ya. Ta-Ta!

Sunday, October 26, 2008

The Relief Parent, Please

I am so ready for that fabled relief parent to beat down my door and rescue me! It has been a long, long week, NO it's been a long, long month. This awful week has just been the icing on the horrible month.

Thursday, the toddler swallowed a marble. I have spent the last few days not-so-patiently awaiting the arrival of said marble to come out the other end. It did so this morning. Relief!

Friday, the toddler stepped on glass requiring a visit to the lovely ER at the (not so) Great Place. I spent 3 hours there to be told it's deep, it's small, we aren't going to try to remove it because she isn't going to sit still. Great!

Saturday, the unit had a Halloween party. I had stupidly volunteered to make cupcakes for it. I scoured the internet in search of the perfect little Halloween cupcake to make. I found one. It was green iced and had a gum drop eye and taffy tentacles. I was told they had to be individually wrapped. My energy level began dropping. I thought about it and cling wrap didn't sound like a good idea, the icing would stick to it. I decided in a moment of crafty brilliance that treat bags would be a great idea. I went to get the mix, the needed candies, and the treat bags. I found the treat bags right next to the cupcake cups that had the little toothpicks with pumpkins and spiders on them. Score! I am just going to ice the things, stick the toothpicks in, and shove them in the bags. I did dye the icing orange though. In theory, my treat bag idea worked great. The reality was a little different. It is nearly impossible to get a cupcake (already iced) into a bag without getting icing everywhere. DQ was helping me with them and listening to me mumble about time, needed showers, must do hair and makeup. I then had another moment of brilliance (stop laughing!). I decided to open the bag, roll it down, put the un-iced cupcake in it, hold the cupcake through the bag, ice it, then pull the bag up around it. Do you have any idea how hard it is to hold a cupcake through a plastic bag while trying to put icing on it? UGH!!! I aborted that idea and went back to carefully putting iced cupcakes in the bags which left me covered in icing to my elbow.

I finally finished and celebrated my triumph! I told DQ I was going upstairs to shower, fix my hair and put makeup on so I didn't scare the kids. This is how it went...

Me: I have to shower, fix my hair, and put on my makeup so I don't scare all the kids.
DQ: I see you every day without makeup and you don't scare me.
Me: That's because you are used to my ugliness and so it's not scary.
DQ: Mom, you aren't ugly! You'''re pretty.
Me: HA! You still have to watch your sister!
DQ: Ok, fine.

Off to the shower I went. Got myself ready, makeup, hair and all. I headed downstairs to tackle the task of getting the kids in costume. I had hell getting the stupid, annoying singer's wig on DQ's head. I finally got them both ready and we head out the door. Crap! Forgot my camera. Back inside I go. We got to the venue where a very nice lady offered her poor teenaged son's assistance because I was so obviously struggling with the big box of 24 individually wrapped cupcakes and a stroller full of toddler. The kids had fun. That is, until the toddler hit meltdown mode. She embarrassed the crap out of me. Laying on the floor pouting when she didn't get whatever she wanted. At one point, I had my camera in hand so I took a picture. She ended up getting mad at me, throwing a fit, kicking her stroller with my camera perched on top and it fell. Broken. My brand new camera that I waited for so long to buy is broken.

I loaded the kids up and we came home to get the box and service plan receipts and we headed to Best Buy. When I bought the camera you see, the salesman started trying to sell me the service plan. I was just about to say no thanks when he mentioned anything that happened to the camera they would either fix or replace. Even if water damage (as long as it wasn't submerged). I had a vision of the terror toddler and decided this was worth the money. Bingo! It already helped me out. They didn't have my camera in stock so it has been ordered. Upon it's arrival I will share pictures of the toddler on the floor prior to destroying the camera.

The husband will be home soon. Thank GOD! A little longer and I may have that nervous breakdown I keep threatening to have.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Oh My Gawd

I have never in all of my mommy life (almost 8 years thank you) wanted to give away one of my children like I do today. Yesterday there was an unfortunate "incident" with DQ that required many, many hours of back breaking work on the part of I. I had to get in to the bedroom that DQ resides in to do some vacuuming, but I was too worn out to do most of it. (Sorry Michelle I fibbed a little, I only did the essentials last night, I was too embarrassed to tell you the story I am now telling the bloggyworld). Truth of the matter is, I was afraid to break a limb in that bedroom, in my state of single parenthood, that would have been very, very bad.

I set myself for the grim reality that, today, I simply must get in there and get it cleaned and vacuumed. I guess somewhere along the way I lost my fighter instincts with this child and I gave up on her cleaning her bedroom. Not a good thing. I just get sooooo beyond tired of constant battles, crying, screaming, whining, pouting that I would just rather ignore it all. Until it's too late that is.

Fortified with a half pot of coffee breakfast and a must-do attitude I headed into battle, toddler in tow. I started cleaning and the more I did the more pissed off I got. I seriously considered going to the school, checking her out, and making her do this nasty mess. Alas, I did it myself. Most of it anywho. Never. Again.

While cleaning her room, I found this little piece of puzzling plastic-y metal. I was completely perplexed. Had no idea what it used to be. I finally figured it out and decided it was photo time. I wasn't going to post the pictures of the mess, but I decided that at least some of you are mothers and would understand. I hoped anywho.
Piece of strange plastic-y metal

The other parts that belong to plastic-y metal piece. Aha!

I also found two of these (cable cords, I have no idea why).

This is the bag of trash that I collected on this quest. One piece of which, I took a picture of because I am still confused about why the little Dixie cups from the bathroom would be found stuffed underneath the dresser in her bedroom.

This is the pile of clothes DQ will be dealing with upon arrival from school. This is in addition to an entire hamper full that I already picked up. Entire. Hamper.

This is the TV in DQ's room. The one that no longer is connected to the cable outlet. The one that may be 50 years old before it is used again. Luckily for her, stacked on top of that TV is the library books from the school. They were found on the dresser and not in the pile on the floor. Otherwise, she would no longer be borrowing books from the library.

This, my friends, are the items that I now own. The coveted Nintendo DS, the treasured Hannah Montana (barf) plug in game, books that I purchased at the bookfair a couple of weeks ago (found buried under a pile of trash and clothes), various CDs (including Camp Rock, High School Musical), and several pens and pencils.

Oh and the toddler? She had a blast playing in this mess and she came away with a new toy.

Now, I am left with a bit of a dilemma. Her birthday is coming up very, very soon. The various items that she owns, she does not take care of. How horrible of a mother would I be if I cancelled any sort of birthday celebration? Maybe I should have the celebration and not allow any gifts? Or, even better in my opinion, let the well intentioned family members who want to purchase something with their hard earned money purchase gifts that I would like to have? No one would think anything of an 8 year old asking for a cruise, a few candles, a maid, some lotions, maybe a Ped Egg, or a massage, right?

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Hazards of Stand-By Vacations

My sister, the one I mentioned in my post about being green, went on her trip to Vegas. Me, being the green one, and the one addicted to blogging felt the need to share her story.

They got a really great deal on their airfare, causing them to have to fly stand-by. All went well on the trip there, but when it came time to come home, boy did they have trouble. Apparently the two of them and the 2o something other passengers looking to fly to Hotlanta from Vegas on stand-by had a little trouble. I started getting phone calls from the sister the night before departure asking me to look up their "flight" and see how many seats were available. I believe there were 3 at that time. Panic ensued. She wanted to get home to her kids. She needed to go to work. I checked a couple other flights and gave her the number of available seats on each.

The next morning, they headed to the airport to try to catch the 9am flight. It was overbooked by 4 seats. So they hung around to catch the 10:30am flight. Them and the 20 something other people waiting to fly stand-by, that is. It was a no go on that flight. Next flight, 12pm, same thing. Between each flight, I got exasperated calls asking to check the next for available seats. Their best bet as far as I could tell was the 4pm flight.

Now, they are flying from Hotlanta to a little bitty airport in the south that only has two flights a day. One flight left at 1:30pm from Hotlanta and the other at 8pm.

They FINALLY got on the 4pm flight from Vegas to Hotlanta. Problem? That flight didnt land in Hotlanta until 11pm. Meaning? They missed the last flight out from Hotlanta to Hole in the Wall. Once they realized that they were not going to make the last flight out (they were still in Vegas) they asked me to start looking for rental cars in Hotlanta. They thought they would just drive from Hotlanta to Hole in the Wall. There were no rental cars available. Her husband, apparently, thought I was stoopid so he decided to call rental car companies himself. No. Cars. Available. He briefly entertained the thought of catching the Amtrak from Hotlanta to Hole in the Wall. I then teased them about their Planes, Trains, and Automobiles vacation.

They decided they were stuck and so they got a hotel room in Hotlanta and caught the first flight out this morning...or actually this afternoon at 1:30. I am thoroughly amused and feeling a little responsible for this turn of events on their vacation. Could it be that my green self made their trip home the nightmare it was? I mean, they spent ALL DAY in the Vegas airport. Then they had to spend the night in Hotlanta and spend the morning in Hotlanta's airport (check out times and all).

My take on this is, she should have just came to the (not so) Great Place and seen her big sister. I am sure she would have made it home on time AND if she got stuck at the airport I could entertain her with my clever sense of humor. Dont ya think?

Monday, October 20, 2008

In the Words of a Hero

This is a story circulating that some of you may have seen. I felt it was important to share to all my millions of viewers. It is a blog written by SPC Stephen Fortunato. The soldier spent 19 days on leave in his home town and returned to Afghanistan. His first patrol after his return, he was killed when the vehicle he was riding in was blown up by an IED. You can see the story here.

If I may …
I'd like to say something....Just to get it out there so it is clear.To all the pampered and protected Americans who feel it is their duty to inform me that I am not fighting for their freedom, and that i am a pawn in Bush's agenda of greed and oil acquisition: Noted, and [expletive deleted] You.
I am not a robot. i am not blind or ignorant to the state of the world or the implications of the "war on terrorism." i know that our leaders have made mistakes in the handling of a very sensitive situation, but do not for one second think that you can make me lose faith in what we, meaning America's sons, daughters, fathers, and mothers in uniform are doing.
I am doing my part in fighting a very real enemy of the United States, i.e. Taliban, Al Qaida, and various other radical sects of Islam that have declared war on our way of life. Unless you believe the events of 9/11 were the result of a government conspiracy, which by the way would make you a MORON, there is no reasonable argument you can make against there being a true and dangerous threat that needs to be dealt with. i don't care if there are corporations leaching off the war effort to make money, and i don't care if you don't think our freedom within America's borders is actually at stake. i just want to kill those who would harm my family and friends. it is that simple. Even if this is just a war for profit or to assert America's power, so what? Someone has to be on top and I want it to be us. There's nothing wrong with wishing prosperity for your side.
I am a proud American. i believe that my country allows me to live my life more or less however i want to, and believe me, i have seen what the alternative of that looks like. i also believe that our big scary government does way more than it has to to help complete [expletive deleted]-ups get back on their feet, a stark comparison to places where leaders just line their own pockets with gold while allowing the people who gave them their power and privilage to starve. I have chosen my corner. I back my country, and am proud to defend it against aggressors. Also, if you dare accuse us of being inhumane, or overly aggressive because we have rolled into someone else's country and blown some [expletive deleted] up and shot some people, let me remind you of just how inhumane we COULD be in defending ourselves. Let me remind you that we have a warhead that drops multiple bomblets from the stratosphere which upon impact, would turn all the sand in Iraq to glass, and reduce every living thing there to dust. Do we use it? No. Instead we use the most humane weapon ever devised: the American soldier. We send our bravest (and perhaps admitably craziest) men and women into enemy territory, into harms way, to root out those whom we are after and do our best to leave innocent lives unscathed.
...One last thing...a proposal. i know it has been stated time and time again but i just think it is worthy of reiteration. If you find yourself completely disgusted with the way America is being ran, and how we handle things on the global stage, you can leave. Isn't that amazing? No one will stop you! If you are an anarchist, there are places you can go where there is no government to tell you anything. That's are left solely to your own devices and you can handle the men who show up at your door with AKs in any way that you see fit. Just don't try good old American debate tactics on them because you will most likely end up bound and blind-folded, to have your head chopped off on the internet so your parents can see it. However if you insist on staying here and taking advantage of privilages such as free speach and WIC, keep the counter-productive [expletive deleted] to a minimum while the grown ups figure out how to handle this god-awful mess in the middle east.

Sunday, October 19, 2008

Band of Sisters

There is a reason why I put off my trip to the library for so long. I knew that once I went to my happy place, there would be no stopping what happened next. I borrowed 8 books. I read one of them the day I got it.

I read for enjoyment. I read because I am lonely and bored and the constant blabbering of a toddler and a DQ bug the crap out of me. Along with my blog, reading helps me escape. I did some research and made a list. I wanted to be able to go in, find the books and get out before the toddler decided to show her true colors. While there I remembered a book that I wanted, which I am still unable to remember the name of, and that led me to many books about the Iraq war. I picked up a few of them. Band of Sisters is the book I read.

Band of Sisters is a collection of stories about women in combat. It is easy for me to identify with the women that are left on the homefront and to forget about those in combat. I often think about the fathers that leave behind families because I am one of those families. This book smacked me in the face with stories of mothers that leave their children behind to go and fight. Not all of the women in the book had children, but the ones that did...broke my heart. As much as I dislike being left to be a single parent, I am still with my children. I can't imagine being on a battlefield fighting, being able to concentrate on the mission, knowing that my children were on the other side of the world. Yes, I knew women were in the military. I just never stopped to consider them leaving behind their children. My biggest complaint about the book is that, at times, it got fairly technical about the specific jobs these women performed and I believe my eyes glazed over. I am more about the emotional or the action, not the technical boring stuff. Although, I must admit learning about different job functions can be interesting. You will have to decide for yourself!

Reading this book made me want to write a book. The story of the men overseas has been told, the story of the women overseas has been told, but the story of the family left behind hasn't been. Or so I thought. I am now reading a book of those stories. I believe I am becoming slightly obsessed with deployments. Wonder why? The train and all.
Hopefully, the next time I write I will have some hillarious story to tell. I guess until then, you are stuck with my reading skillz. Ta-ta!

Saturday, October 18, 2008

My First Week All Alone

Before the husband left to play GI Joe in the state that is going to fall into the ocean (that's what I have heard), I took a couple of hours to go to one of my happy places. The library. I borrowed a few, okay 4, books to get me through the time he was gone. Only problem is they didn't last too long. I love to read. Always have. I can spend hours reading. Hours and hours. I decided to share the books I read that first week. I am going to the library, kids in tow this time, today to get some new books. If you know of any great books, please comment and let me know.

Okay before I get to the list, I also wanted to explain my kind of book. I used to read romance, what I called my "dirty books". They totally ruined me. 'It' is NEVER like THAT. If 'it' is for you, please, don't share. Let me believe the authors only wrote those books to completely ruin me, mkay? After I got over the obsession with those books, I turned to Sandra Brown. She also writes romance, but there was much more than 'it' to her stories. I think I have read every book she has written. One day, while perusing a used book store back home, I ran across some Nicholas Sparks books. I loved the movie The Notebook and I believe I bought every book they had of his. I am glad. He is a PHENOMENAL author. Really.

THEN, I moved to the (not so) Great Place. They (the library) do not have any of his books. Not one. Ok, maybe one, but I have already read it! So I spent those couple of hours trying to come up with some books I wanted to read. I noticed that some of the books have little stickers on the spine proclaiming them to be on Oprah's Book Club. Now, if Oprah liked it, surely I will right? Here goes:

I actually fell in love with this author several years ago. I read her book My Sister's Keeper. Jodi Picoult has a knack for writing about controversial topics. This book was no exception. Beautiful. A testament to the sacrifices that a parent will make. In one sentence here is what it is about: A woman was raised by her widowed father all of her life, but was he really widowed?
Okay, so it was a still counts. Because I say so. Read it. You won't be disappointed!
(I don't think you can really click on it...I borrowed this pic from another site, you see)

Remember the movie The Lake House? With Sandra Bullock? Okay, this is not the book the movie is made from. I decided to see if there was such a book, and came across this one. It is a good book. Truly. My only complaint about it was I didn't like the way the chapters were broken up. Okay, so maybe I have issues?

This book was really great. It had everything. Corrupt officials, filthy rich getting away with crimes, sex scandals, murder. A great read.

This is one of the books that proclaimed to be on Oprah's Book Club list. Great book, as well. Proved, at least to me, that lies will always come out. A very unfortunate fact for this wife, but it was a great book. It also proved that my investigative tactics and overall suspicious nature are good things. You just never know.

Last, was the other book from Oprah's Book Club list. This book touched my heart strings as a mother. Made me question what would I do in this situation? It only takes a second of poor judgement to change the course of your life and the structure of your family forever. I was also in shock towards the end, when everything came out. Great, great book!

Friday, October 17, 2008

Random Thoughts on a Friday Night

I just have nothing special to talk about so I thought I would do some random thoughts. Before I begin....YES I am completely sober.

  • Texas sucks. Not just because its hot. I have a new reason to dislike Texas. I have this thing for the white cheese dip the mexican restaurants sell back home. I have been craving it like a pregnant woman (no, I am not) and I ordered some from a restaurant here tonight. To go. I got home and the freaking dip is YELLOW. That ain't right!

  • Our men and women in uniform fighting for our freedoms over in Iraq or Afghanistan or wherever they may be, should NOT have to pay to call their family. Some telephone company somewhere should give that service to them for FREE. If you think the military gets too many handouts or what have you, I am sorry, but you are WRONG. Anywho, if you, dear reader, happen to be a big exec at AT&T or whatever phone company, why don't ya look into that for me?

  • Kids should ALWAYS be in seatbelts and/or carseats. ALWAYS. To not have your child in a child restraint is stoooooopid. Yes, I am calling you STUPID.

  • This is the month to feel yourself up. Don't forget it. Get to it. I could tell you a really sad story of a woman who lost her life to breast cancer at the ripe old age of 36, but I won't. Or I did. Either way, early detection is important ladies. Feel 'em up!

  • If your husband is military, never, and I mean NEVER let him go to say NTC or any other place with his debit card to your joint account. You know, the one you use to feed your children and pay your bills? Just.Don't.Do.It.

  • Make sure you tell your loved ones you love them every time you can. You never know which time will be the last.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Mission: Abolish Kid-Plug

Last night, at bed time, I could not find the toddler's binky. Anywhere. I searched downstairs, I searched her room, I searched DQ's room. It was gone. I finally decided she would have to go to bed without it. I put her in her bed, did the usual routine, and walked out with my fingers crossed and many silent prayers. I came downstairs, asked my buddy AA to pray for me, too.

I listened intently as the toddler moved around. She whined a little. She moved around some more. Then...all was silent. She went to sleep, no problem, without the binky that is always attached to her. Always.

I said a prayer before I went to bed, knowing that she would wake up in the middle of the night, and she didn't. She woke up this morning, never mentioned the thing. Not once. I was sitting her doing my usual websurfing and she climbed up in my lap about 30 minutes before naptime. I looked at her and smiled, then thought WHERE THE HELL DID SHE GET THAT THING??? Yes, she found it. It was in her mouth. I quickly took it, told her it was yucky and hid it. She went down for her nap without a fuss, and has yet to ask for it.

Is it really going to be this easy? Really? I am in shock. I am also excited that I will have no more frantic moments of searching high and low for the dreaded Binky! R.I.P. Binky. It's been a long, long time, but my baby is growing up and doesn't need you anymore! For your viewing pleasure I am going to show some pictures explaining her L.O.V.E. for that thing.

Toddler+Binky at lake

Toddler+Binky at fireworks

Toddler+Binky at home
Toddler two-timing the Binky

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

The Other Part of the Story

I have mentioned briefly on a couple of occasions something that the Husband and I are going through. The personal thing? I have avoided blogging about it on purpose. I didn't want that business out there for the world to see. It weighs heavily on my mind though. I have decided it is time to share some of the story. If nothing else, maybe it will open someone out there in the same situations eyes a bit.

I have two stepchildren. I do not believe I have ever mentioned them on this blog for good reason. It breaks my heart to think of them. I love them with all of my heart, as I do my birth children. When my husband enlisted into the Army this year, we had to make a choice. Actually, there was no choice to be made. We attempted to get their mother (and I use that word loosely) to let us bring the children with us. She would have none of it. I know you mothers out there in bloggyland are thinking 'good for her'. Don't. All I can say without getting into some very personal stuff is this: it takes more than giving birth to make you a mother.

It is one thing to have children, to love them, to care for them, to make sure their needs are met. It is completely another to have children and do none of those things and top it off with not allowing the people that would offer those things to do so. Spite. It is a horrible thing. Image? It isn't all it's cracked up to be. As a mother, I can not imagine preventing my children from getting the things they need because 'someone may think I am a bad person'. We all make choices in life. We all make mistakes in life. Raising children is not an easy task. It is, however, something that will affect them the rest of their lives. Always. If you do a great job, it affects them in positive ways. If you do a horrible job, it affects them in negative ways. Either way, their entire life is affected by the choices you make as you raise them.

It takes a village to raise a child. Regardless of where that phrase came from, it truly does. A child needs all of the love, the wisdom, the affection that it can get. A parent needs the support. The more people a child has in their life that offers love, affection, stability, wisdom or any other positive interaction, the better. A very wise woman once told me that. Unfortunately, for some, the ability to be selfless is beyond them. This makes for poor parenting. Parenting is a selfless act.

These children are on my mind heavily. More so today than yesterday even. The longer I go without being able to speak to them, to touch them, to hold them, to show them love, the more concerned for them I become. I fully understand that being a parent is difficult. Mistakes will be made. The point is to learn from them, to not repeat the same mistake again and again. One day, maybe this will be learned? I, for one, hope it is not too late by the time that lesson is learned.

At this point, for right now, all I can do is hope. Hope that the relationship I had with them for the last 4 years is strong. Strong enough to impact and possibly counteract what is happening now. I hope that through this, they still know that I love them. I adore them. I miss them. I am doing everything in my power to regain the relationship. I am fighting for them. All of their family is. We are their family. It does not matter what they are told. They know.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Let The Shopping Begin

I have finally unburied my head from the sand so to speak. I realized that oh.My.Gawsh. This month is halfway gone already and I have done nothing for Halloween. I mean, I bought a door cover banner thingy and its sitting in the package, waiting to be hung. I have looked at costumes, but not purchased any. I.Must.Get.Going. If I wait much longer, the kids will have their choice of dumb or dumber.

I head to everyone's favorite place, Walmart. They have NO costumes for the toddler. None. Nada. Zilch. I decide online shopping is calling my name. Now, I can't decide what should she be? I looked at many, many stores, narrowed it down to three, and email my favorite go to (my mother in law) and said HELP ME! Literally. That was the subject. I know her first thought was "oh gee, she's lost herself again", but I know she loved to see my ideas for the perfect thing for the toddler to go and collect me her some goodies in.

DQ? Oh, DQ. She has had her heart set on the costume of her idol. The idol that makes me want to pull my hair out when I hear her voice. Many moms have decided that this idol is unworthy of their precious brat's worship because she has a thing for bra/panties pic posting...not I. I couldn't care less about her half nude body all over the internet. DQ will never see those shots anywho. I care about hearing her voice. Her voice makes me want to slice my ear off and mail it to her! Seriously. DQ will be dawning her favorite idol costume that night. Shoot me now, please?

DQ also confronted me on my parenting skillz for that night. This is how it went down.

Me: (sitting on the potty attempting to potty in peace)

DQ: Mom, have you thought about how you are going to keep up with us on Halloween?

Me: Hmmm what do you mean 'keep up with you'?

DQ: You know, when we go trick or treating?

Me: Uhhh, DQ, you will be within my sight at all times as usual.

DQ: Well, what about when it gets dark?

Me: (We will be home, tucked safely in bed wayyyy before that. What about it?

DQ: I think we should get some of those glowing bracelets so that you can see us.

Me: Really? How would that help me to see you when they don't really light up the night or anything?

DQ: I really want one.

Me: You do,eh?

DQ: Yeah, and it will help you to see us.

Nice, eh? She is already planning how I should be taking care of them while they get my their treats.

Join the SITStahood

This blog is a group dedicated to expanding you readership. They have featured bloggers every week and the point is to comment, comment, comment. After seeing your comments, some other awesome blogger may just comment on yours and who doesn't love to get the warm fuzzies? Today they are doing a blogathon and having prizes every hour! Go over and check it out! Thanks to AA who sent me on this quest and allowed me to spend even more time stalking blogs!

I am one of those people, you know, the ones that don't read the directions until they have messed something up? Anywho, now that I have read the rules, I must follow them! I read every post made by Amber, Michelle, and Brandy. I admit that I just found Maternal Mirth via another SITSta's blog (and I must go back to comment both as soon as I am done following the rules here), Cutie Booty Cakes. I clicked the link for Cutie Booty Cakes solely based on my obsession for all things edible, and was surprised to find it wasn't edible afterall. check it out and then you will know!

Monday, October 13, 2008

Short and Sweet

I had a wonderful visit with my Dad. We talked like we have never talked before. It was refreshing and brought closure to some things for me. The girls loved having him around. I am sure it had nothing to do with him taking them to Chuck E Cheese or Toys R Us. We don't get to spend enough time with him and it makes me sad to think that he misses out on months of them growing at a time. The last time he saw the kids was in January. Now, the Toddler is running around and getting in to everything and starting to talk. DQ has an even smarter mouth, too.

DQ could not let the weekend go without letting my Dad know that I was being a bad Mommy for the last week or so. She told him of the horrors of eating fast food or Kid Cuisines! How could she betray me like that? The worst part was when wanting to dispute that she has eaten fast or frozen food every day, I couldn't think of a single meal I had actually cooked! An hour later, driving down the road, I remembered...I made tacos the other night! HA! I do cook sometimes!

Dad headed back to his home away from home and we went costume shopping today. DQ got hers, but they had not one single costume for the toddler! Not one! I think I shall do some online shopping now.

Saturday, October 11, 2008

Brief Interruption

I have company coming in today. This is both exciting and scary. I am excited because there will be another adult in the house, but scared because the other adult is my Dad. I fear hours of staring into space, old black and white movies, and knots in my stomach. Oh boy, I need drugs. Can you imagine going to the doctor to ask for Valium or Xanax and explaining that your father is coming to visit? Wonder if that would work? Oh well, too late. If I am absent the rest of today and tomorrow, now you will know why.

Last night I came to the realization that I have neighbors that are spies. Seriously. Just the day before I had a conversation about food consumption and the possible loss of weight I am experiencing (which is not entirely a bad thing people, let's be honest). Last night? My neighbors come over with some yummy treats. This says to me, we are watching. We know you aren't eating. We will feed you. You don't see it? Hmmm. Maybe you should get a little evaluation? Why would they spy on little ol' me anywho? The thing I am building in the backyard is not a bomb I tell ya!

I survived my first day and night of the forced separation topped off with banned communication. I am not going to pretend that I had a yellow day or anything, but I am still here...still breathing. As I typed that, it reminded me of the kids in school. They have different colors to say how their behavior was? Whatever. Stop staring at me like I have completely lost my freaking mind!

Oh, and that project that I mentioned here? I worked on it some more yesterday. I am almost completely done with it. I have to have a zipper foot for my sewing machine. Whodathunk? I seriously contemplated velcro instead because I am so ready to get this finished up and sent on its way, but a zipper would work better on the thing I am making so....until the zipper foot...

Friday, October 10, 2008

My Yin

Today, I am feeling sentimental. Maybe its the lack of bow chicka bow wow. Maybe its the lack of human contact with anyone taller than 4 foot? Maybe its lack of sleep? Maybe its the sudden onset of banned communication with the husband? Whatever the reason, I decided now was as good of a time as any to do a post about the husband.

I met the husband online in early 2004. At the time, I was going through a divorce and decided that hiding behind my computer and talking to strangers was a great outlet. So, I did. I signed me up for Yahoo! and started perusing the chatrooms. I found Military Chat, and decided it was my calling to stalk the men in uniform that needed the stalking. And even some that didn't. This, is also where I met my buddy AA. She had already snagged her a man in uniform and was not-so-patiently awaiting his return from a deployment.

You hear the horror stories of creeps on the internet, well, I have a few. I learned alot in that brief amount of time. I will never forget when I met him. Forging a relationship in this manner built a very strong foundation. There was no choice, but to communicate. We learned so much about one another. Afterall, there was only so many times I could show the man my boobies on the webcam. Eventually, I had to talk. After several months of chatting on the phone and computer, my wonderful man moved to be with me. Yes, the first time I saw his handsome face in person was the day that he moved in with me. It has been one hell of an amazing roller coaster ride for more than 4 years.

I miss him as if a piece of me is gone when he is away. I feel as though it is hard to breathe when only half of me is here. I know how cliche this is, but he completes me. He is the yin to my yang. The wind beneath my wings. Without further cliche crap, here is some stuff about my favorite soldier!

1. He's sitting in front of the TV: what is on the screen?Military Channel, The Unit, CSI, Heroes, Star Wars, porn (just kidding)

2. You're out to eat. What kind of dressing does he get on his salad? Thousand Island

3. What is one food he doesn't like? Crab. I am going to leave it at that.

4. You go out to the bar. What does he order? HA! He would order a Jim and Coke if he went.

5. Where did he go to high school? In Tennessee

6. What size shoe does he wear? 10?11? depends on the shoe.

7. If he was to collect anything, what would it be? Crabs. Again, leaving it alone.

8. What is his favorite type of sandwich? Sweet onion chicken teriyaki. i think that is what he orders at Subway.

9. What would the Husband eat every day if he could? Lasagna. Baked macaroni (my specialty)

10. What is his favorite cereal?He loves Chex (isn't that gross?)

11. What would he never wear? Tights. Tightie whities. Recognize the theme here?

12. What is his favorite sports team? VOLS. or the Brazilian soccer team.

13. Who will he vote for? I plead the fifth.

14. Who is his best friend? Me, at least that's what he tells me when he wants something.

15. What is something you do that he wishes you wouldn’t do? Ahh. See he hates it when I nag, when I turn psycho-bitch, when I hit him with frying pans...

16. How many states has he lived in?4 states, 3 countries if you count deployments..what? they live there dont they?

17. What is his heritage? err Irish? Some other stuff. White boy. Ask his mama not me!

18. You bake him a cake for his birthday; what kind? Uh he will eat anything. Seriously.

19. Did he play sports in high school? Yes football.

20. What could he spend hours doing?Drawing. Playing video games. Bow chicka bow wow. TMI?

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

The Rantings

I don't have anything really thought provoking to say about the last couple of days. I live and I learn is the best thing that I can say. No matter how hard you try to pretend, everything eventually comes out.

I want to rant about the school that my child goes to. Again. The school is set up to be a school that the kids walk to. I mean, it is afterall, in the middle of the neighborhood. It only takes maybe 10 minutes to walk to there from my house. I walked in the afternoon once. I huffed and I puffed my way there all the while afraid that I was going to vomit all over myself and the stroller filled with toddler that I was shoving in front of me. I could not understand the reason for the struggle that afternoon. I walked her to school in the mornings. I had even walked her that morning. Why the struggle then? THE HEAT! It is so ridiculously, breathtakingly hot in Texas. Well, it was then. I decided never again. Never. In fact shortly after that afternoon, I took to driving her to and from school. Lazy! I think next week I will start walking again. At least in the mornings. Of course, I said that the last two weeks. Maybe the third one is the charm?

Ok, so I got sidetracked there. Let me get back to the rant part. I leave my house no later than ten minutes before school lets out. I drive the 2 minute drive to the school. There is always a line a mile long. Is every other parent of a child in this school as lazy as me? I believe so. I sit there for no less than thirty minutes every day. My child is the last to be picked up. Every day. I had taken to parking across the street, walking over to get her, walking back, and driving home, but then things happen and I stopped. Namely, I got blue and green and purple and all the yellow took off to Missouri apparently. So today, I had a date. I was in a hurry. I must get DQ, run to Hell for the makings of tacos, and get home within an hour. I left my house at 20 minutes before school got out to get my place in the front of the line of parents. I was determined people! Do you know what I saw as I topped the mini hill? THE LINE WAS ALREADY LONG. Seriously? Do you idiots sit there all freaking day waiting for the bell to ring? 20 minutes before the bell rings and there are already at least 20 cars in line. Unbelievable. Needless to say, I missed my date. There is no way to get from the school to Hell and back in 35 minutes; I did make it 40 though! HA! Take that losers that sit at the school all day waiting on your precious little brats to run through the door. This is not today's line, but this is the daily line at the school. Two deep even. UGH!

My next rant is one that is annoying on the lesser of annoying levels. Yeah, Dana, whatever that meant. I go to Hell for the makings of tacos. I need: ground beef, lettuce (they even sell it shredded in bags here so I am in Heaven), cheese, sour cream, and taco shells. I leave with $30 worth of crap (had to have the cookies, string cheese, Dew, cookies, chips, dip). I get to the registers and think I am so not tipping a bagger for this today. I am plenty capable of bagging and lugging this crap to my van. Actually, I didn't have cash. I hate when I do that. This means I must have 40 items or less to go through the self check out. I must have 40 items or less, but all of the other bozos that can't read? Well, they get to have as many items as they want. And then the stupid thing always has errors for weights and crap. Extremely frustrating.

And finally, fire ants suck! I still have that bite on my toe, maybe that is why I am feeling a little bitter (just so you know I typed litter instead of little at first). My sister told me to boil a pot of water and pour it on the ants and they would die. I did. They did. See?

All the dark spots that look a little like soil? Dead ants.

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Boobies, Boobies, Boobies

I know, I am going to bring in flocks of freaks, but I had to talk about something, right?

I have contemplated off and on having breast reduction surgery done. My boobies are too large (so what if the rest of me is too?) and they give me problems. They get in the way, they make my back hurt, I have permanent indentions where my bra straps sit on my shoulders, and I do believe that the pull of my boobies is causing the neck strain that is causing my migraines. I know, earlier I thought it was the lack of bow chicka bow wow, but now I think it is the boobies. Maybe a combination of the two? Anywho.

This internal battle has carried on for several years. I have this vision of what they would look like afterwards...and quite frankly I was scared. I think the vision may be a little whacked because as a young woman I saw the aftermath of a mastectomy and it may have scarred me for life. Maybe. So, today, being the neurotic me that I am, I googled breast reduction images. I started to share some of the images here, then decided against it because quite frankly, I don't know you people that well...the idea of you getting your jollies looking at my makes me nauseous. So google it yourself if you want to see, mkay?

I looked through the pictures and realized a couple of things. One is that my boobies are funky looking because they are so big. They are saggy not just because of the lack of bra wearing that I do, but because they are so big and heavy and gravity just does that to them. The second thing is, there is no way on earth I would post pics on the internet of my saggy boobies and then my surgically reduced boobies. I just can't. I am glad that those people did because I was able to see what they would most likely look like, but I will not be educating the internet world with images of my boobies.

There is a lot of discussion about the affects of reductions and I won't go into details, but the word desensitizing bothers me. It is scary to me to think that I could be cooking a meal and lean over the stove and the boobies would light up Mrs. Doubtfire style. Could that happen? Who knows. Am I willing to take that chance? I think NOT.

Guess I am stuck with the saggy, heavy, migraine inducing things. Now, I have shared something I have learned. Have fun with those images!

Monday, October 6, 2008

Army Wife Job Description


Wife, Spouse, Household 6, CinC, Dependent

Job Description

Lifetime commitment to being the always present half of a team. Must work well alone and be able to shift to team player within moments. Creativity, budgeting, and mechanical abilities a must. Some manual labor required. Must be technically savvy as this may be the only communication allowed for long periods of time. Must be willing to learn foreign language. Strong-willed candidates strongly discouraged. Ability to adapt well to change preferred, but not required.

Will include, but are not limited to:

All household responsibilities (i.e. cleaning, cooking, laundry). Will sometimes be responsible for yard maintenance, finances, and all other "manly" jobs. Will take over the "manly" responsibilities with notice of 1hour to several months for varying lengths of time. Will read all books, take all classes and do all necessary research to learn the Army language. Will relocate anywhere in the world at the demand of others. Will sit by home phone, take cell phone and/or laptop every place that you go. Must be able to be reached at all times of the night or day. Must bake and/or buy many items and stand in line at post office to ship said items to anyplace in the world. Must attend all events from casual to formal while smiling pretty and not saying anything derogatory about anyone. Must spend most time waiting for second half of team.

Possibility for Advancement
None. There is a possibility of lateral transfer to Army Wife and Mother (also known as a Married Single Parent).

Compensation and Benefits
Compensation will depend upon years of sacrifice of other team player. There is no reward for above par work. Compensation may or may not be directly deposited into account on expected date of arrival. Compensation may also fluctuate depending on intellectual aptitude of bureaucrats in other locations. Free medical insurance is provided as long as the endless waits and red tape do not interfere with "the mission". Housing will also be provided as long as the nosy, loud neighbors, strict guidelines, bug infestation, poor maintenance, and older than dirt accommodations are taken.

Fringe Benefits
This position also offers unlimited personal growth, astronomical amounts of pride, feelings of self worth, and a large extended "family". Possibility of living in exotic places depending on "needs of the Army".

Rainy Monday

This morning I woke up to a miracle! Rain! It's truly a miracle!

Ok, really I woke up to the alarm clock at 6:30. I went and got DQ up and told her to get ready for school. I went back to bed. I just lay there dozing because I know that she will come into my room a minimum of 50 times. And guess what happened? Door opens and...

DQ: Mom, I don't think I have school today.
Me: (Thinking quickly, what day is it?) Yes DQ, you have school it is Monday.
DQ: No, Mom, it's raining.
Me: So?
DQ: The calendar says bad weather days we don't go to school.
ME: Huh? It's raining. Not a tornado, not ice, just rain. Go get ready for school.
DQ: I think I don't have school today.

She did go and get ready though. So I was up and decided it was time to start the coffee and get a move on. We head out the door to take her to school...

DQ: Mom, I really don't think I have school today. No one's lights are even on except that one.
Me: Get in the van you are going to school.
DQ: If I am the only one at school I am going to be mad.
Me: Like I care?

I start backing out of the carport and I see the Jeep in my mirror...the windows are down about 2 inches or so. I thought I was thinking it, but apparently I said outloud, "I am going to kill him." DQ asks who and I tell her and why. Why on earth would he leave the windows down like that KNOWING he won't be here to drive the thing?

Me: Look, there are kids walking to school (why in the world are they walking in the rain?).
DQ: Yeah, and there's one walking back.
Me: (Roll my eyes) Whatever. Get out of my car!!!

DQ is now safely at school in the "bad weather" and I am here surrounded by the toddler that is enjoying some Imagination Movers and some driving me crazy! She has climbed in and out of my lap a million times as I typed this, she has torn my bookmark to shreds, and is now about to unload the junk in the cabinet under the TV.

Yet again, it is going to be one of those days, eh? On a brighter note, check out this picture I took of the roses the husband bought me before he went to play GI Joe...

Saturday, October 4, 2008

And the Lunatic Emerges

I am going to start from the beginning. Not the beginning of time, just my day. I was woken promptly at 6:30am by DQ. She wanted to know could she read? Yes, that is one of the dire emergencies that I told you to wake me for. Good start, eh?

Let's move on to 7:00am where I am still comfy in bed. Guess who's up now? How'd you guess? The toddler. Wants breakfast. Now. Me, being the loving mother that I am, I first start the coffee. Yes, it is in fact a loving gesture. If I don't have coffee, it ain't pretty.

Sometime between 8:30am and 9:00am, I have ingested enough coffee to feel as though I can go on with my day. I begin cleaning. As mentioned previously, my father is coming. I am happy, but stressed because I can never live up to his immaculate OCD house. In doing this cleaning, I realize several things.
1) My kids are total effing slobs and I seriously contemplate hurting them.
2) My husband is lucky he was not here for the cleaning spree because his crap piled all over the house had me in quite the tizzy.
3) The Army is taking over my house. I do not care if they technically own the damn must stop NOW.
4) I am way to obsessed about blogging because as I was cleaning I was thinking of all of these clever remarks that I would make in my blog. All of which are long forgotten.

At 12:30pm I finally stop cleaning so that I can eat something. Ok, so I took a couple of smoke breaks in there, but who's really keeping track? At this time, I lay the toddler down for her nap and decide I am done cleaning for the day.

I spend the rest of the day scouring blogs. Oh. Yes. I. Did. Of course, there were constant interruptions. For example...

DQ: Mom, can we do something?
Me: I am doing something (I am reading blogs, duh).
DQ: No, I mean can we, like, play a game or something?
Me: Are you serious? Have you lost your mind? I am BUSY. Can't you see?

Or there is this one:
DQ: Why do I have to be grounded?
Me: You broke the rules (how the heck do I know specifically which one?)
DQ: What rules?
Me: You know what rule you broke. (You broke the rule about being a big pain in my ass)
DQ: But why am I still grounded? It's been almost a week.
Me: How long did I tell you you were grounded for?
DQ: A week.
Me: Has it been a week?
DQ: Almost. But I am boredddddddddddddddd.
Me: Then next time dont break the rules.

At this point, I am realizing that grounding her really punished me more than it does her. That, and I am realizing that I do way too much talking and reasoning with this child. I told her today (for some reason that escapes me at the moment) that I am going to the store and I am going to buy a big fat hook. I am going to screw this hook into the ceiling. When she annoys the crap out of me, I am going to tie her legs together with a chain and I am going to hang her from that hook. She laughed. I am seriously considering it.

And then there are the constant battles with the toddler. She has this thing about being in my lap all the time. Not always. Just when the husband is gone. Drives me crazy! She also has learned NO and she uses it whenever she pleases. And she has the worse effing high pitched, ear drum shattering scream that she uses when she doesn't get her way. It makes me want to rip her vocal cords out. Get this, this...its just too funny. DQ...she nicknamed the toddler today. She nicknamed her the Diva. Now I have the drama queen and the diva. How do you go about getting a gun in Texas?

I have had an ongoing battle with DQ...for, like, years. She is the most smart mouthed little snot ever. I want to smack the crap out of her on a daily basis. I have awesome self control...for a while. Once I lose self control, I don't smack her. I scream like a lunatic. Which is what happened this afternoon into this evening. I can not stand getting lip from her. I suppose it is some part of my father (scary stuff right there) coming out in me. I was not even allowed to ask "why" when growing up. This child of mine...she questions every damn thing I say. Examples...

DQ: Mom, can we have a snack?
Me: Yes. There are fruit snack thingys or there are graham cracker thingys.
DQ: I don't want those.
Me: Then no, you can't have a snack. (Back to blogs)
DQ: Why can't I have raisins?
Me: There is only one box and if you have raisins the toddler is going to chase you around and whine for them and I have to listen to it and I am not doing it.
DQ: What CAN I have?
Me: (Losing my cool) Fruit snacks or Graham crackers.
DQ: The graham crackers are stale they have been in there since last year.
Me: Bullshit! We just moved her in July and I bought them after that!
DQ: whine whine whine (I have tuned her out)

5 minutes later
DQ: Mom, can I have raisins?
Me: Didn't I already answer that?
DQ: No. You said there was only one box.

This exchange? This is what I deal with all day, every day. I am at my wit's end. I am already stressed. I am already green (and a touch of blue). NOW, I am feeling a little red and...what's the color for frustration? Purple? Purple sounds good to me. So I am green, blue, red and purple. And just so Amber knows....THERE AINT NO STINKING YELLOW OVER HERE WOMAN.

Then, the husband sends me a text saying he won't be able to call the toddler tonight at about 6pm. Every night at around 7:30pm she starts picking up my phone and saying Daddy. He has called the last several nights. So she starts her ritual and I decide to call Grammy. Maybe that will make her better. Nope. She won't talk to Grammy. She wants to go in the kitchen to watch the cat and dog fight. DQ is preventing this so the toddler is screaming. I am nearly in tears. Grammy suggests that we go for a ride...ya know change of scenery. I agree. I need cigarettes. So, I put on a bra and grab my purse. Get to the door and start looking for my keys. Can't. Find. Them. WHO'S FREAKING CHEERIOS DID I PISS IN THIS MORNING TO DESERVE THIS? Whatever. After a few minutes of freak out mode I think I'll just take the husband's keys. And I do.

Here is the best part of the 2 second change of scenery ride. I get to a red light. I have already told DQ to shut her pie hole I am not interested in hearing her voice tonight so it is quiet in my van. I look over to the left, where they have been doing roadwork since long before we got here and I think why on earth is the gravel over there a strange, glowing, light green color. I sit there a few moments looking at it before the obvious answer comes to me. The gravel is glowing green because it is reflecting the green light that the people in that direction have dumbass.

On the way back home, I realize I am being tailed by an MP. Fine except I was speeding a little...I was going downhill dammit. So then, I think...pfft If he pulls me over I am going to beg him to take me to jail. Please. Take. Me. You can call my husband's dork of a command and tell them that you had to lock his wife up in a padded cell and now he has to come home because boy oh boy shes LOST IT. Yes, this entire thing did run through my mind.

We get home. I immediately put the toddler in PJ's and tell DQ that once I take the toddler upstairs to bed, she is to go up there and I do not want to see her gorgeous face again for the remainder of the evening. Capeche? Yeah. That was 39 minutes ago and she's been down twice so far! Aye, Aye, Aye.

OH.DEAR.LORD. NOW, I get to listen to the *insert who knows what nationality* neighbors behind me listening to their *insert nationality* music LOUDLY.

I am Green

Do you ever have those days where you are just green? Green with envy that is? I am having one of those weeks! My younger sister makes me greener than a...grenade. She was smart in the way she mapped out her life...well, mostly smart. She and her husband go on all of these awesome trips. They've been to Cancun, Canada, different places in the US and are now preparing for a trip to Sin City. She sucks! They were also smart enough to remain around their family. Which means? Built in babysitters for these trips. She sucks double time!

I know, my life isn't a bed of thorns. It is, however, different from hers. I am proud of the husband. I am proud of my family. I am proud of myself for following him to the (not so) Great Place. BUT I want to go to Canada and Cancun and Sin City. *picture bottom lip sticking out, puppy dog eyes and arms crossed*

Then there are the times where I am just annoyed. Someone that I will not name because that's just not nice...annoys me. It annoys me to hear people who get "breaks" from their children whine that they need a "break". It annoys me to hear people who "go out" often complain that they need to "get out". Now, I love this person dearly, but for the love of Bob, please don't complain to me that YOU need a break. I have an idea, how about you come to the (not so) Great Place and give me that break? Hmmm?

Don't misunderstand, I am happy. I am fine here in the (not so) Great Place. I wouldn't give up my life here for the life that the nameless person lives there, but sometimes I just want to scream "YOU GET BREAKS ALL THE EFFING TIME!!!!". Of course, I can't and I won't but I want to! Does it make me a bad person?

This is day....4? Yeah, I think that's it. I am not depressed. I am lonely, but not overwhelmed by it yet. This, this is an improvement. I have not gone psycho-witch on the poor husband yet. This, this too is an improvement. I am about to embark on a journey of cleaning, cleaning like the mad woman I am. Why? MY FATHER IS COMING IN 6 or 7 DAYS! Guess that means I have to go to hell the commissary? UGH.

Sad part? This isn't even the deployment yet. Will I spend that entire year green? Well, green and blue. Alternating. Or maybe tie-dyed? That is going to be a fun time, I can see it now!

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

The Eagle Has Landed and Ants Bit my Toes

Yes, you read that right. The husband made it to Cali. He. Is. Not. Happy. Hopefully his mood will get better with some sleep? The only comments I have gotten are "I forgot how bad I hate this place" and when asked how he was doing "HOT". And that I should go ahead and fall down the stairs now. It took a small miracle or forever for them to make it to their destination, but they did and there was no plane crash (yes, I turned on the news to make sure before I got word he landed). AA says I am really neurotic. I been telling her that for years. When will she understand? Probably now. I mean who does that? Haven't heard from the husband? Let's turn on the news to see if a plane crashed or anything. Geez.

Anywho, on to the second part which is not funny I don't care who ya are. I was cleaning upstairs (I clean like a mad person any time he leaves) and needed....Ok. Here is how it really went down...

I have ADD. Bad. Especially when I clean. Or try to do any certain thing. Whatever. I went upstairs to get the toddler's little ride-on-car-toy-thing out of the box in the TA-50 closet. Yes, there are still boxes in this house. Shut it! So, I get the toy out and realize for the billionth time that the hallway upstairs is NASTY and on my very last nerve. I put the car down and start going through the boxes that are in the hall. The boxes that the husband was asked to put out in the trash. The boxes that he claimed had stuff in them. These boxes indeed had stuff in them. They had wads of packing paper and little trash crap here and there. I started throwing boxes down the stairs. Yes, I get a kick out of the thud...thud...thud,thud,thud, BOOM. The toddler stands there thinking "how in the world did I end up in this family?'. Now, boxes cleared I have to put away blankets that DQ is incapable of putting away. I realized that the linen closet was in serious need of an overhaul. Things were not sitting right in there. So I start pulling stuff out. I notice something moving out of the corner of my eye. What the? Ants? Ants?! There were MILLIONS of them all over the floor of the linen closet. Why would they be in there? I run downstairs to get the vacuum and suck all those critters up. Just as I think I finish, guess what happens? I got bit on my toes! I do some more vacuuming and then decide I need to do a load of laundry. I go down to throw in the load and think I should vacuum the stairs. Alas, the cord on my vacuum is not long enough and I can't figure out where an extension cord might be. I. Had. To. Manually. Sweep.

Today? Just not my day. As I was explaining this ADD cleaning episode, it made me think of something else. Could being ADD cause insomnia? My gosh I think I might be on to something! Now I must go and hang the toddler from the ceiling where she can't touch things (she just dumped tools of some sort all over my couch) and knock the drama out of DQ. Fun times! Anyone care to join?

He's Gone....sort of

Last night was the night. I had to drop the husband off to go play Army in Cali for a while. I feel horrible for him. He got no sleep before he had to be there and as of this morning, he is in a different place than where I left him, but he hasnt even left post. UGH! Anywho, I am going to do my best not to have myself a pity party over here. I am sad, but I know he wont be gone too long...well not long compared to others. I think the part that got me the most was watching him say goodbye to the toddler. She is such a Daddy's girl. He will be back before we know it!

On a happy note, I never, ever, ever get the chance to get a picture of my soldier in uniform. His daughter needed a picture of him in uniform for school (they are honoring soldiers) and I got one...last minute...right before walking out the door last night...but I got one. See?