Sandy Eggo

Yes, this really is a post about my cat

2011-05-30T21:17:00.000-06:00

Mozart is an indoor cat. Can't you tell?

Every once in a while, I'll let him out into the backyard, as long as I'm there to make sure he doesn't take off to patrol the neighborhood.

The only problem with our little routine, is that Mozart has fallen in looove. He is really a smitten kitten. He gets this look in his eye. He paws at the sliding glass door in the morning begging to go outside to see his love. I can see the anticipation building up in his little body. Yes, Mozart has a girlfriend.

Her name?

Lilac. He purrs. He pushes the side of his face all over these poor lilac bushes. He kisses them. Whispers sweet nothings (in Catonese of course) and seems irritated if I interrupt his little love fest. I really don't think it will last long. Maybe until October at the most. It's a strange love affair for sure.

He did stray for a little bit. He walked the perimeter of the yard, saying hello to the aspen.

Completely ignoring the birds who were warning each other that there was a hairy beast on the ground. Fluttering leaves were much more interesting than the noisy chirps.

He's obviously not lacking in food hence the lack of attention to his feathered friends. The aspen leaves only held his attention so long. And then he was back to the love of his, uh, season: Lilac.

Bullets and junk

2011-05-24T20:14:00.000-06:00

It really should be illegal for the weather to contain a '4' in the first number as we approach the end of May.
It should also be illegal for children to be done with school any time before June.
When bullet points 1 & 2 crash together, my tradition of Slurpees on the last day of school go out the window. Except the window was closed and the heat was on in the car because it was cold and rainy.
I finally, for the first time in my life, bought new towels.
I'm wondering if swallows migrate through Colorado because that sure is what all of those crazy birds swooping between cars, searching for moths to eat, look like.
I use, way, too many commas, when I write.
There's so much excitement and craziness going on back home and I really wish I was there.
I miss the ocean. A lot.
I do not miss the rude people of my home state.
I miss plants that don't have the word 'pine' in them.
I am on this weird fascination kick with Mormonism's polygamy thing, watching the show on TLC and reading The 19th Wife.
I could NEVER share my husband.
I should really clean my house.
And clean out my DVR.
The Rapture didn't happen, and I knew it wouldn't link
I had to explain Ska to someone and I'm not even sure I did it correctly
I'm considering taking the carpet off my stairs
My kids fall down and UP the stairs so often I'm not sure that's a smart idea.
I'm super desperate for a girls night out!

When it Rains it Pours

2011-05-20T21:26:00.000-06:00

My very young (read aged 54) aunt had a mild heart attack yesterday. If that wasn’t bad enough, she is the sole health care provider for her husband, my maternal uncle, who has debilitating rheumatoid arthritis. This guy has had more wrenches thrown in his gears than anyone I know. It’s not just like he gets a sore knuckle when it rains. He has metal plates keeping his head attached to rest of his body. He’s been wheelchair bound for years and been in the hospital more than the mom from 19 kids and counting. He’s an amputee and really can’t do much for himself. Yet he still takes time to work on his art, root for NASCAR and give me a load of crap on my voicemail if I don’t answer my phone right away.

Being my uncle’s nurse for so long, my aunt takes care of all of his meds. He couldn’t tell you what exactly he takes or when and he’s on a LOT of meds. She worries about that for him. My mom’s concern over her baby brother included medication related issues. I assured her that there were enough competent people around so she wouldn’t worry too much and feel like she HAD to go up there and cancel her very important plans for this weekend.

And then I got word that my uncle OD’d. He’s ok now, but he took too much of something and was rushed to the hospital. Oh, and we just found out that my aunt has to have triple bypass surgery. My goodness. I have one really awesome thing that’s really my focus right now and two pretty stressful things that are competing for my attention.

Never ask the question, “What else?” because you probably won’t like the answer.

2011-05-19T18:39:00.000-06:00

This is what the inside of my head looks like right now:

Usually, when my head looks like this, I write. And I have. But not here. Not yet. Hopefully soon. Ish. Maybe. So when I can't write because I'd have to kill you if I did, I put up pictures! Nothing is wrong. Everything is kosher. No worries from those of you who do because God is in control, Halleluja. Man, if I were in control, the whole world would look like the inside of my head and that would just be bad. And messy.

Dirty Money

2011-04-03T17:54:00.000-06:00

We paid our final car payment in January. Woohoo! The PLAN was to then set aside that car payment each month and save up to buy our next car with cash a la Dave Ramsey style. And then God laughed at our plans.

We had to replace our dishwasher about five months ago which ate into our savings. The "extra" car payment helped us build that back up but we were basically going into debt by borrowing from ourselves. And then Bill blew a tire. And you can't just replace one tire, especially when you fail the Lincoln test. And so we ended up buying four new tires. Throw Christmas and a bunch of birthdays in there and the Ramsey approach to money just flew out the window. Fortunately, the window didn't need replacing so we saved some money there.

And then it happened. It smelled funny. Like burning rubber. And I had images of my laundry room/master closet/linen closet (they're all one big room) bursting into flames. I've seen my mom take apart appliances because there was no savings and we needed things to work. If she could do it, I could do it. Well, I could make my husband do it. I was sure a belt in my faithful 14 year old washing machine was about to go out. Turns out, there is no belt in my model. It would most likely be the doo-hickey thingie according to the local appliance repair guy. So we took the doo-hickey thingie out and brought it to the store to replace it. Husband puts in new doo-hickey thingie and the washing machine is started. And it smells like a huge tire bonfire. And I'm sure that we're going to die AND lose all of our clothes in a fire or pass out from the horrible smell. We paid $30 to replace that smelly part and were told a new engine would be around $100. But what if we spent $100 now and then something else broke? The agitator? The transmission? The hickey-doo?

RIP 1997-2011

I'm frugal. I hate to spend large amounts of money if I don't have to. Buuut...we bought this washing machine in 1997. It's been in five homes in five different cities, two different states. Maybe it's time to consider replacing it.

I'm not just frugal, I'm particular. Some may say obsessive. Others may say anal. I say I like to do my research so we get the best in the price range we can afford. I spent three hours researching washing machines and we were able to take home our new workhorse today. Our SUV was big enough to shove that baby back there. What we didn't think about was whether or not the door was wide enough to get the machine in. Oops.

No doors or husbands were injured. We did end up taking it out of the box while it was still in the garage though. Then came the hard part. Bill and I nearly killed ourselves trying to get it up the stairs, but we made it. I don't have any pictures of that but I will say that my hamstrings are screaming at me right now.

There are 101 pages of instruction on how to use my new machine. Granted, there are three languages but I had to sit and study and still ended up doing something wrong the first time I washed a load of clothes.

And here she is. My new BFF. The one I will spend many hours with. She is also very particular and only drinks the finest of drinks.

Thankfully I was almost done with my Costco sized bottle of Tide. Now I have to buy this stuff. High maintenance I tell ya.

But, she sings to me. She sings when the power is on and she sings when she's done washing. And I'm singing knowing that everyone will have clean chonies very soon.

Le Artiste

2011-01-15T18:06:00.001-07:00

My daughter, like most kids, likes to draw. A lot. Any chance she gets at a fresh piece of white paper and her box of markers, she'll take. She'll usually draw your normal scenario: flowers, rainbows, the family cats, a house, etc. Sometimes I'm not really sure how her brain works and she comes up with doozies like this:

Notice the lighting, shadowing and composition. Notice the use of color and depth. Or don't because this is just a really weird picture created out of the mind of a six year old girl. What the heck is it?

(click on picture to see full size)

Let's explore. We have two sets of stairs in our house. Leah was very clear that these were the stairs DOWN to the basement. Because why would some creepy thing happen on the main floor? Didn't you watch Home Alone? Trey, the one-eyed man child has lifted his diminutive sister above his head and is preparing to devour her. I, with my awesome adaptable legs similar to that funny sheet on tv that only covers the guy from the waist down but covers the girl from the chest down, am obviously NOT happy that my son is misbehaving. Notice the lack of horror on my face. It's more of a "I can't believe you're doing this again after I told you not to" face. Does Leah feel threatened by her huge brother? Not a bit. If anything, he's more concerned with her sneaking up on him and starting a brawl. Is this world too overwhelming for her? She's six. The answer is no. Why did she give me such ugly pants? Maybe she wants me to be happy and is encouraging me to be happy.

Or, she just has a twisted mind in that tiny head and I should start saving for therapy NOW.

Wintry

2011-01-01T20:43:00.000-07:00

It's been a little cold here lately.

It was even a bit too cold for my adventurous feline to venture too far. He decided the top step on the patio was far enough.

What can I say? We Californians aren't too fond of this white stuff.

It really isn't easy being green

2010-12-09T19:33:00.000-07:00

I have hair issues. I've always wanted great hair like this:

So I actually wanted hair like that in about '89 but didn't everyone?

Two problems:

1. I'm not blonde

2. I didn't know anything about 'product' in the 80s.

My mom was her mother's guinea pig when it came to dyeing and perming and bleaching. There are many old black and white pictures of my mom when she was around 4 or 5 and she's covered in curlers and perm solution or her natural black hair has been peroxided a horrible orange shade. With that kind of emotional scarring, it's not surprising that she has really no interest in the mop upon anyone's head, even if I begged her to learn to french braid or make those ribbon laced barrettes with the beads that were popular back in the day.

Nope. I was lucky to have a banana clip and discover Bold Hold on the shelf of my local drug store when I was a teenager.

As luck would have it (and the hair gods had sympathy on me) I've had FOUR friends in my adult life who have also been professional hair dressers. Whoopee! Now I could get the scoop and ask questions and let them decide what looks good on me.

For the first time in my life I paid one of my hair dresser friends a lot of money to make my natural chestnut brown hair blonde. Blllloooonde. I actually got a lot of compliments on it. It was a bit weird to get used to it at home and I knew it would be a lot of upkeep (read: money) to keep it that shade of honey yellow so it would be a temporary thing.

Here's a picture of me and my studly husband at this year's Marine Corps ball. Definitely NOT chestnut brown hair on me anymore. It's fun. It's different. I can't wear the same colors that I did as a brunette.

This week I decided to darken my locks a bit. Just a smidgen to a medium brown with blonde highlights. Once again I paid a lot of money in order to get back to more of a low maintenance 'do. For some reason my hair dresser used an 'ash' on me. And now? My hair is green. Yep. Green. I'm told it will even out a bit in a few days but I am NOT a happy camper. The woman who did this has her own salon so it's not like she mixed a concoction in her kitchen sink. She employs other colorists! I'm about ready to head to the store for a $10 box of L'Oreal and fix this myself. The joy of beauty standards. Maybe I'll just chalk it up to being the Grinch this year. ;)

Meh...

2010-12-05T19:30:00.000-07:00

Ever have that "meh" feeling? Yup, that's about how it is right now. The Christmas tree is up and I actually LET the KIDS put ornaments on. Do you know how much control I gave up for that? A lot. I managed to get some garland strung around the fireplace and the stocking are hung by the chimney with apathetic feelings. The lights are up on the outside of the house thanks to my awesome husband. I've perused lots of decorating blogs with beautiful displays of the season and my normal reaction would be "I've got to run to the store right this second so I can replicate this exact display". This year? "Meh."

We just got back from San Diego where I was able to see family and friends which was not meh but great. We're preparing to head out to visit Bill's family in a couple weeks. Also not meh but great. My poor little house will be empty for two pretty big holidays and hence my lack of enthusiasm. I hate not being stoked about Christmas. In fact, if I didn't have kids I don't know that I would have decorated at all. How Scrooge am I?? I'm vowing that I'm staying home for Christmas next year and my tiding will be glad and meh will just be a saying on a snarky t-shirt.

Wordless October aka Just for Krista

2010-11-19T19:35:00.000-07:00

Well...CRAP!

2010-09-11T19:22:00.000-06:00

My mom's annual vaca is the beginning of September. Last year she was out here helping us unpack our very first home! This year she came out just to spend some time with me and Bill and the kids. I had a couple of things planned: A trip down to the Garden of the Gods, maybe a tour of the Molly Brown house, a bit of shopping, the usual.

We started our awesome week of vacation with an unofficial not-really-a-block-party get together Sunday evening. A few of our neighbors came over to hang out and grill and talk and eat and talk and make s'mores and maybe have a glass of wine or three. After taking our sweet time to get out of bed the next morning we loaded the car up and traveled 45 minutes south to Garden of the Gods in Colorado Springs. We'd never been before and didn't really know what to expect. The adults had a great time learning about the area and hiking the trails to look at these natural phenomenons. The kids however, well, were kids. "I'm hooooot. I'm booooored. I can't walk anymoooore. My legs are tiiiiired. Carry meeeee." So, we didn't spend nearly as much time exploring as we'd like but at least we can say we've been.

The next day the kids were back in school and my mom and I got some good girl time. We hit the outlet mall and got some Christmas shopping done. Yes, you may hate me now. We were spent, literally and figuratively so we had Bill take us out for dinner.

By Thursday we were doing pretty well with our shopping, dining out routine. We hit a local restaurant with Bill during his lunch break. For some reason as we were walking out to the parking lot I brought up this phase that Trey is in asking if my mom will still be alive when he reaches adulthood. That led into a conversation about how young my own grandma was when she passed away and how Trey still thinks she'd be 62 today since that's the age she was when she died. My mom and I talked about how she's "timeless" even though she'd be the same age as my grandpa who is 82 now. We went about our day after Bill left to go back to his office. We hit a scrapbooking store and the obligatory Target run for some essentials. While we were perusing the book shelves for reading material for Trey, my mom's cell phone rang. I watched her face drop and listened to her repeat "Oh my god" over and over again. Something has obviously gone wrong.

My uncle had called from California to inform us that my very healthy, able bodied, strong willed an strong muscled grandpa had just died. Complete shock. My mom had just spent the weekend with he and his wife at Pageant of the Masters in Laguna. He'd just gone to the L.A. County fair the day prior. I just saw him in July while I was home. While I was home he told me that he'd been to the doctor and the doctor was in disbelief that 1) he wasn't on any medication and 2) he was as healthy as he was at 82. My grandpa was still getting up in the morning and going around the house repairing things, fixing shingles on the roof, replacing brakes on my aunts car and a number of other things men half his age couldn't do. What happened? We don't know yet. It's still to be determined. It's been twenty years since I've been affected by a death on my side of the family. Right now, it seems surreal, a bit bizarre and very somber. I'll be flying home to be with my family. The family that I will usually see to celebrate a holiday or a birthday. Unfortunately this time it will be to get together to say goodbye to our patriarch.

God Bless my grandpa. 1928-2010

Summer Part 2?

2010-08-13T13:18:00.004-06:00

Wait! I wasn't ready. I'm always ready with plan in hand and calendar filled out but things were just weird this time. Oh...well...I guess there was that time last year when we planned our move around the start time but didn't realize that the start time was in mid-July. Maybe I can just blame the whole thing on Colorado. Yeah, that seems like a good plan to me. That, and then there's the fact that they lied. Who does that?

School started on August 9th. But not really. The calendar that was approved for the school year said that the first day was the 9th. And then emails came in telling us that PARENTS were to attend the first day with their kid. Except that the first day wasn't a full day. It was an hour for one kid (an hour?!) and five hours for the other kid. And on the 10th, they had the day off. But the real real first day was the 11th. Still. Who goes to school that early? Especially in the land of perpetual snow. It could very well start snowing next month and if you recall, it snowed here three months ago. I think the administration hates sunny warm days at the pool and loves green flourescent lighting and the smell of Pinesol. Well, a big fat raspberry to you calendar planners. School ends in May and it will be too cold or windy or tornado-y or hail-ey or some other 'ey'. It better not be snowy.

When my kids go back to school is when I usually feel like I'm celebrating my second new year. A clean slate for the academic/sports/dance year. I start weeding things out of closets and dressers and cupboards. I'm just not there but I really want to be. When does your school year start?

Summer Part 1

2010-07-07T10:20:00.004-06:00

I seem to be without words, but I'm certainly not without pictures this summer.

Firepits in the driveway seem to be the thing to do in the neighborhood. The start of the season included lots of gooey s'mores and kids and dogs. And beer. There always seems to be beer.

A little girl turned 6 despite my pleas to stay five.

A tornado warning threatened to delay our Build a Bear party. Fortunately, weather didn't win this time.

That same little girl graduated kindergarten. I did not approve.

I started a super huge project in Trey's room that will only take me about fifteen years to complete.

It was our turn to host the firepit and it started out great. And then, like Denver weather does, it totally changed. The skies opened, the lightning cracked and as you can see from my husband's lovely face he was thrilled to hold a beach umbrella over the pit to save the fire. What a trooper.

Trey started baseball and loves it. If you know my kid, that's huge. A sport he actually likes. Halleluja! He's holding up first while Bill coaches first. And that awesome contraption in the back is our local water park that is uber cheap to get into.

We had to have the perfect kicks for 4th of July.

And that's the end of the beginning chapter to summer. We have a lot more to cram into a few short weeks before the kids go back to school. Seriously, who goes back to school August 9th??

Summer Time Blues

2010-07-03T09:43:00.002-06:00

I'm at a loss for words. No, nothing tragic has happened. I just don't have any words in me that are dying to come out in story form. My brain has hidden them somewhere in the deep while it continues to produce phrases ad nauseum.

wash your hands
turn off the tv and go outside
I'll make lunch in a minute
what do you mean you don't want to play with your sister? Why do you think I had 2 kids?
you can pour your own cereal
did you flush?
get a napkin and clean that up
put your markers/Legos/Wii remotes/dolls away

My brain is fried with summer time commands and we've only just begun. There are stories. Somewhere. I hope I find them soon.

I thought it was May

2010-05-12T14:37:00.001-06:00

It snowed last night. My yard is covered in a white blanket. This sucks. The end.

Clicking My Heels

2010-05-11T18:51:00.007-06:00

Last year's birthday I told anyone who would listen that I would NOT be in Denver for my next birthday. I knew that late falling snow is normal in Colorado and I didn't want any part of it. I made good on my promise and got an awesome deal to fly the heck outta Dodge, er, Denver. And to add a pat on the back for my decision, it snowed on the way to the airport. Ugh. GoodBYE Colorado and hello home.

In just over two hours I was back to my home sweet San Diego, sniffing the salty air and admiring the leaves on the trees. Those hadn't shown up out here in CO when I left. Just a bunch of bony fingered branches on the naked aspens. Oh California. Thank you for perpetual warmth and palms. I'll admire the chapparal and cacti if need be. I don't care. It wasn't covered in frozen crystals.

Our first stop was Rubio's. Love that place. Apparently there is one out here but I haven't seen it yet. When I placed my order, I looked at the guy at the cash register and said, "Did you know it's snowing in Denver right now? Snowing?!" He looked at me like I obviously spend too much time on the weather channel and shook his head 'no'. Extended periods of cold weather make me a bit loopy apparently.

About an hour after I got to my mom's I headed back out to join a couple of girlfriends for a wild and crazy girls night out. I mean, WILD. These girls are insane. Oh wait. Nevermind. I don't have friends like that anymore. We hit the stores, we had dinner at a hot spot for prom dinner apparently and saw a movie that wasn't animated. That's wicked awesome in my book. And I got home after curfew. But don't tell my mom, she still doesn't know.

The day before my annual celebration of life, my mom and I drove up to L.A. to visit the Getty. I've wanted to go since it opened and it did not disappoint. I haven't been to a museum without at least one child in tow for um, eight and a half years so it was a treat to be able to look and read and talk without potty interruptions or requests for food or hearing, "mooooomm...I'm booorrred".

The Getty has an awesome garden to meander through. I wish I could have walked through this mini labyrinth, but it's in the water. I don't think they let you do that. Buzz kill. The weather was less than perfect. We had a lot of fog that day *BUT* no snow so I was ok with that.

This is one of the strangest poppies I've seen. When I looked at it from the side in passing, I thought there were bugs inside.

This is my new bed--The Getty just doesn't know it yet. It was huuuuge. Oh those French. Always over the top.

My mom and I spent about six hours there. We decided it was time to leave when our brains expanded past the point of capacity. We couldn't learn anymore at that point. With the Santa Monica pier being just a few miles away, we decided to stop before heading back to S.D. I've never been to this pier so I fit in with the rest of the camera toting tourists.

Here's where Route 66 officially ends. It's actually over the water and cars are allowed to drive and park on part of the pier which is foreign to me.

There's a Bubba Gump restaurant on the pier and these plates just made me laugh. My favorite is the plate with the rainbow. Ha!

What I learned, or finally realized, on the fifth anniversary of my 29th birthday is that people in my home town are RUDE. I know it's not a California thing because I'm a Californian and all the friends I grew up with are (duh) and we weren't raised that way. People expecting you to move out of the way for them, letting the store doors close on you, not even giving you eye contact when you hold the door for them. It's so annoying. As much as I love home, that is one thing that Denver does well. People here are polite. There are too many stinkin' people in San Diego. They all need to go back to wherever they came from. Oh, sorry, was that rude? Bill and I went to Target here in Colorado. On a Saturday. And it was empty. But I digress.

It was so great to be around people I have history with. To see familiar faces and have people see me. To recognize and be recognized. I'm still not there out here. I love home and we already have our next homecoming planned. I'll just have to take enough Xanax that I don't care about rude people.

Two Inches and a Bit of Ignorance

2010-04-20T08:12:00.003-06:00

I went to a new (to me) salon yesterday for a much needed haircut. My hair had been threatening to band together and gnaw itself off, so I knew it was time. For me, it's always awkward to start a new potential client-professional relationship. You don't know one another so you have to go through the dreaded small talk. What happens if you don't like the results? Can you come back and see a different person? What if the person just bugs you? I think about things way too much.

So our conversation started. And of course it led to where we moved from. She had been to San Diego a few times so I thought it would be nice to talk about home with someone who was at least a little familiar with the place. And then came the inevitable "it's really expensive to live there, huh?" Ha! If she only knew. The conversation went on about things to do: the beach, the zoo, the Wild Animal Park... She continued with, "I bet your kids have been to SeaWorld a bunch of times." I knew where her head was starting to go.

"Actually, no" I said, "It's super expensive so we've only been twice. And the only reason my kids have been to Disneyland is because my in-laws paid for them to go."
"Oh really? Doesn't everyone who lives in San Diego have a lot of money?"
*blink blink*

Yes, and everything in Hollywood is sparkly clean. Everyone in Southern California knows how to surf, is super skinny and drives a convertible. Disneyland is real and the "characters" never go in the back, remove their heads and take a smoke break while talking about which gay bar to hit that night. Yeah, I said it. When we lived in Orange County in a teeny apartment, our neighbor that we shared a balcony and a landing with was Goofy. The Goofy and was as staight as Lombard Street.

"Um, actually no. There's a lot of poverty in San Diego as well." And then she looked at me like I was smoking crack. I couldn't believe that someone who has actually been there only saw the pretty parts and not reality.

"My friend lives in Escondido. That's a really rich area, huh?"
"No, only certain parts, like every city. There's a lot of scary-ghetto parts there, too." But again, she didn't see that part. Which means she went no where near the heart of the city. "The only area that is exclusively wealthy is Rancho Santa Fe." I had to explain where it was and that a few celebrities have homes there. I should have said 'that's where the Heaven's Gate Cult lived' but I didn't.

I left feeling like stereotypes are alive and well. All Californians are rich, all Texans wear stetsons and spurs and all New Yorkers are Italian and say things like "fuhgettaboutit".

And my haircut is uneven. Next!

Not What I Wanted to Hear

2010-04-12T22:16:00.002-06:00

Here's the deal. I've been pretty anemic for a while. Like, your body is supposed to store extra iron as a backup when you're not getting enough. It's supposed to be anywhere between 20 and 80. Twenty and eighty what, I'm not sure, but my store number was two. Maybe that would explain why I can take a nap any time of the day and never have any energy to do much of anything. For the first time in, oh, forever, I have a doctor who wanted to know why. So I had some more blood drawn and was ordered to take iron supplements three times a day. My test results came back positive for celiac disease. I never would have guessed. I didn't have any of the typical symptoms other than the anemia. I thought maybe it was a mild case because of the lack of symptoms, but once again my body isn't playing by the rules. Numbers again: under 5 (I don't know 5 what, but stick with me) means no celiac. 5-8 you need more testing but probably have it. 8 and over you have celiac. My number was over 100. Seriously?? I have a serious love of bread, cereal, pasta and all things gluteny. Now I have to change my way of thinking, eating, and apparently digesting. Now I will join the ranks of those irritating people asking what the food has in it because I have "special dietary needs". I give that a big fat raspberry.

So, so sorry

2010-04-12T11:14:00.002-06:00

Most of you know that I'm very fluent in sarcasm. I mean, it's my spiritual gift and all. And, well, sarcasm and drama are best friends and I guess drama kinda crept into my last post. Although, it will be dramatic for me. Yes, I was supposed to find out what the heck is going on last Thursday BUT when I went in the lady at the desk told me that my appointment was actually for Wednesday. Don't blame me! They called and told me it was Thursday. I've had to lie in wait all stinkin' weekend, too. So today I have an appointment and I'm hoping to hear some news and I WILL (pinky swear) share it with you as soon as I ~~announce it on TMZ~~ call my husband and my mom to tell them what's up.

Huh?

2010-04-07T20:49:00.003-06:00

Tomorrow I may hear some of the saddest news in my adult life. It has the potential to be very ~~traumatic~~ inconvenient for me. I may have to change ~~my entire life~~ some things in my life. I'm going into this with a ~~positive~~ pessimistic attitude because I don't want to hear what has to be said.

So as to not get all worked up (you OR me) I'm going to leave it at that and let you all know what the heck I'm talking about when I find out tomorrow.

Hope

2010-04-01T16:36:00.005-06:00

It's been a REALLY long winter. It's been six months of on and off snow and for someone like me, that is five months and three weeks too long. At first it was kind of cool, seeing the flakes flitting down. The kids were in awe. I was even a little bit in awe. And then I got over it in a big way. A blizzard? In October? For my entire life, October has meant hot, dry winds and clear blue skies. Not a blizzard. Unless we're talking Dairy Queen.

I'd had my fill. The reports of snow on the news got annoying. I couldn't see my beautiful yard because it was covered with that evil white stuff.

Now, spring is starting to show its face and I just want to kiss it! My grass is starting to come back. There are buds of future leaves on my aspen trees. The tulip bulbs have sprouted and I'm elated.

To give myself a little push and a little color I bought some seeds. Now, if I can actually plant them AND keep them alive, that will be a miracle.

I've never been this happy to see spring. I'm not sure I'm cut out for this Colorado life.

Is it Something I Said?

2010-03-30T21:51:00.003-06:00

Moving out here to the sticks, I imagined living in a neighborhood full of families similar to mine: husband, wife and a couple of kids. We found that neighborhood and knew it was perfect when no less than six families came over to introduce themselves before we were in the house for 48 hours. This was going to be great! Maybe we could get together over margaritas and watch Grey's Anatomy. Maybe our kids would all play together. Maybe this would be our happily ever after.

We got settled, we got into our routines and I started talking to more of the moms at the bus stop in the morning. All of out there in our pj pants, coats, Uggs and mugs of coffee. We're quite a sight. Unshowered, bed head and no make up. We rock. Anyway, one of my new bus stop buddies mentioned that she had just gone through a divorce. She's a year older than I am with four kids. Rough, to say the least.

A few weeks later another mom asked if we had any boxes left over from our move because she was trying to clean up her basement. Sure, we have tons of boxes. I thought it was a bit weird that you'd need moving boxes to tidy up a basement, but maybe I'm just crazy about my plastic bins? Turns out she was packing up herself and her daughter and high-tailing it out of the state, leaving her soon to be ex-husband behind. Interesting.

Through the grapevine known as the nosy mom club I was informed that my next door neighbor who hasn't taken two seconds to even glance our direction, is also going through the Big D and I don't mean Dallas. What?! No kids this time, but she's my age. Not that people my age don't get divorced, they do, it's just weird. Almost like when you find out your doctor is your age and if you'd gone that route, you'd be a doctor!

Ok, so this is getting weird. All of these families live within five houses of me. They were all married when we moved in back in September. Now seven months later we have three that are single? Oh wait...

Just today another bus stop mom told me that she was done. Done with what? I assumed she'd meant the counseling she and her husband have been attending. No. She thinks she's done with him. Yeah, you guessed it, she's my age. Is there just something that hits you in your early to mid-thirties to make you feel like it's not worth the fight? There have been times when I didn't even want to be in the same house with my husband, but to not be married? I can't fathom. It's been a lot of hard work but the payoff is so worth it. That and the fact that I made specific promises to him before friends, family and God.

Since all of these separations have happened since we joined the neighborhood, it's obviously something to do with me, right? I mean, is there any other logical explanation??

It just didn't work out

2010-03-01T16:59:00.003-07:00

I tried. I really did. I've driven past it a couple of times and told myself that I would go in and look at the potential and the life that could be brought back. I wouldn't be judgmental. Even my husband said he'd try it-that he'd thought about going in before I even said anything. So many bloggers have found abandoned jewels there and shined them up nice and pretty for their homes.

Today, we ventured in. The parking lot was packed. I took that as a good sign. And then we went in. And it was crowded. And half of the people in the building weren't speaking English. I'm used to that in San Diego, not here. We made a bee line (b-line?) to the home goods section. It was full of *junk*. I tried to look beyond the junk for the sparkling jewel but the whining kids and funny, stale smell and people continuously competing for the tiny aisle space that I was in was too much of a distraction.

And so we left. And I felt snobby. The Goodwill and I did not get along. So we took our Pottery Barn tastes and our Target budget elsewhere. Sorry Goodwill. Maybe I'll get over myself and go treasure hunting another day.

Illin'

2010-02-12T20:33:00.002-07:00

Part of my acclamating process out here on the wrong side of the Rockies is to try and get involved. Involved in anything. Easiest thing to get involved in? Bible studies. I mean, it's a rule that the other girls have to be nice. Right? So on Wednesday I started a Beth Moore study and those of you familiar with Ms. Moore know that she's very in depth. So in depth in fact, that I blamed my headache on her. I don't really ever get headaches and this one lasted all day. Surely it was her fault, right? By Wednesday night I just wanted to shove two O.B.'s up my nose because it just wouldn't stop running. I went to bed relatively early (i.e. before 1am) to try and sleep it off. I woke up with the gift of a MAC truck lodged in my head.

This is so unlike me. I don't get sick like this and the last time I was, I think I was pregnant with my 8 year old. And the kicker is, I didn't catch it from one of my ~~walking petri dishes~~ kids. They're both perfectly healthy. I sludged through the day, even making a trip to Target for milk (one of the great things about Colorado....Super Targets!!) and drugs. Too bad I had my kids with me and didn't notice the drugs I bought did NOT contain an antihistamine. So for the rest of the day I had that I'm-going-to-sneeze-any-second feeling. It really is quite fun, if you're a glutton for punishment.

I'd been bribing my kids during their off track time with a movie in exchange for good behavior. With today being the last official day off, I had to make good on my promise, sick or not. So I divvied up our candy and put it in my movie purse. Oh come on, don't tell me you don't do that. We headed out and sat through 'The Tooth Fairy'. Cute kids movie + sinuses on vacation = minimal interest. But I did it. I didn't whine and complain like I wanted to. I wasn't selfish and claimed I couldn't leave my bed like I wanted to. I didn't even pout because I wasn't willing to buy popcorn I can't taste like I wanted to. On this last day of off track time I celebrated, mouth breathing and all, by making good on my promise and letting my kids have their way. Now it's my turn as I sit on my couch, bundled up and watching the opening ceremony for the Olympics and whining to my husband that I can't breave fru my dose. Go U.S.A.!

Q & A

2010-02-08T17:47:00.004-07:00

Have you heard people ask those silly questions like, why do you park on a driveway and drive on a parkway? I have my own set of silly questions that have been swimming in my brain. If you can answer them for me, you get a prize*.

Why did it take 18 years for my husband's job to completely rock AND why are we so far from friends and family when this kickin' job is finally happening?

Why were we finally in a place of financial freedom in California (I know, sounds like an oxymoron) and then get moved to Denver where it feels like we're back to where we were two years ago?

When making knock off Chipotle guacamole, one is instructed to dice a serrano or jalapeno pepper. When you do this, you're supposed to wear food prep gloves or you risk burning your skin. But then you put said peppers into your MOUTH and they eventually end up IN your body. Man, good thing they instructed me to protect my fingers.

When you find something at Costco that everyone in your family loves, why do they quit stocking it?

Any time I state, "I will never", it ends up happening. Why?? Examples? I will never date a Marine--married one. I will never drive a Ford--had it for 3 1/2 years. I will never live where I have to shovel snow or endure a tornado--double check...oh Denver you wacky city.

Why does my eight year old think that he is smarter than I am? Doesn't he know he needs to be at least twelve before he starts that behavior?

Why does my cat feel the need to yak on whatever is cleanest/most difficult to clean in the house? We've got a ton of wood flooring and tile in the house but apparently my oversized comforter and freshly changed sheets are a better option.

What are your unanswered questions? I know I'll have more. I've had a LOT of time to think lately with all the not working and the snow and the kids being home. My brain needs a vacation in San Diego.

*One shiny Gold Star. Woohoo!!

It's a Secret

2010-02-04T21:27:00.003-07:00

I've been spending lots of time with my babies lately. Alright, they're not babies but they resemble them at times. Out here on the wrong side of the Rockies, my kids are in year round school which means they have WAY too much time off. We're in week two of a three week break. Pray for me. My husband's been out and about quite a bit lately as well so quantity time is a-flowin'. One of my favorite things to do with my kids is to read with them. It's out of sheer laziness. I get to sit on the couch and read books and they'll usually play with my hair or rub my arm while I read. Not a bad deal.

So I'm sitting with my son in the family room and my daughter is still upstairs. I smell something funny. Not like something burning, or foul, or play doh mixed with animal cookies smooshed up and used at hair putty. Kind of a good smell, but not one I recognized. New air freshener? No. I didn't put in a new plug in any time recently. I wasn't wearing perfume or lotion. My eight year old wasn't trying a new aftershave. Hmm. I ignored it and waited for Leah to join us on the couch for story time. As she sits next to me, the air around us is stirred and I smell it again, but this time stronger. I lean over and sniff her and then lean the other direction and sniff Trey. "What is that smell?!"
"What smell?"
::sniff sniff: "I don't know. Trey, did you put lotion on?"
"No."
"Something smells...powdery."
Then Trey tells me it's his arm. I grab his arm and sure enough, that's where the smell is coming from. "What is that?"
"I don't know. It was in the bathroom and I put it on. It was that blue thing."
"My new deoderant?
"Haha, yeah I guess." Clearly at this point he really doesn't know what deoderant is. Apparently he's been living under a rock.
"Trey, I put that on my ARM PITS"
"EWWWW!!!"
"Ok, no more putting things on your body if you don't know what they are."

Seriously.

To Save a Life

2010-01-25T19:59:00.006-07:00

Ever feel like all the good stuff happens after you leave? You bail out of a party and two hours later the cops show up because someone spontaneously combusted. Or maybe the year after you graduate high school, your alma mater is recognized for a winning streak in football, some genius sophomore finding the cure for cancer in Biology and Oprah shows up to do a speech at your pep rally. I'm having one of those moments.

At my last job back home, I happened to work for a guy who wrote movie scripts when he wasn't being youth pastor to hundreds of kids. I was his "executive assistant". Whatever. I did all the paperwork and other busy work he hated to do. I did a lot of other random things too, but that's not where I'm going with this. In the summer of 2008, one of his scripts came to life in the form of an actual movie with, like, real actors and stuff. I got to hear about some of the bigger names that would come out for readings when he was in Hollywood. Pretty cool if you ask me. Part of the agreement between my boss and his boss was that I still needed to do my job, not be on the set as an extra or doing the dazed fan thing. I was able to be on set a couple of times during my off hours and watch the filming as it happened or chauffer a few of the actors here and there in my oh-so-fancy Expedition.

The actor I spent most of the time talking to (because he was hostage in my front seat...ahem) was this guy:

Most recently, he's been on a Citibank commercial. He's been in Desperate Housewives, iCarly and a ton of other things here and there. He's VERY tall and that's coming from a very tall girl. He's loud. Not obnoxiously, but his voice carries. Well. He seemed nice from the short bit of time I spent with him.

About a month after the filming had commenced, I found out that this guy's part in the movie could have been played by him:

OH. EM. GEE. Seriously? When my boss told me this, I almost grabbed him by the collar and yelled "WHY DIDN'T YOU CAST HIM???" I couldn't believe it. Dylan McKay could have been sitting in the front seat of my car. I don't know how close Luke Perry was to being cast in the film but I was in la la land for the rest of the day at work. Mostly in awe. And shock. And more awe.

Anyway, the film opened last Friday and sold out in my home town more than once.

There was a red carpet premiere, a meet and greet with the actors and the writer (but I already know him...remember?...former boss) and a whole lotta Hollywood right in my back yard. But alas, I am 1500 miles away in my new home away from home wishing I was there to be a part of the finished product. I haven't made my way to the theater yet to see it but I did get to see it before we moved, before the final editing was done. If you're interested in seeing it, check out the trailer here:

http://www.tosavealifemovie.com/

You'll be glad you did.

Things Running Through My Mind

2010-01-16T21:17:00.003-07:00

I've recently become obsessed with home decor blogs. Like, OCD, obsessed and recently added about 10 new ones to my reader.
I have about five ideas for a real blog post in my head, but no real direction to get them to say anything interesting.
My husband and I are tackling our very first home improvement project and it's taking WAAAAY longer than expected.
My typically non-sick kid has been sick for a week and it's really bugging me.
My mom's birthday is today and I have yet to send out her gift, let alone her card. This is only the second time in my life where I've not been "home" for her celebration.
My husband's birthday is on Monday and until I went shopping (today) I'd forgotten that I bought something for him a month ago and hid it away.
I'm really sick of looking at all the patches of dead brown grass and piles of snow that haven't melted yet. I'm yearning for the glistening Pacific and palm trees of home.
I hit the jack pot at Old Navy yesterday. Possibly a short blog post? Go there. To Old Navy I mean. Now. 50% off clearance through Monday. Seriously.
I'm about to finish reading a non-parenting book. It's the first novel I've read in quite a while and I don't want it to end. I hate it when good stories are finished.
I could totally go for some Pat & Oscars right about now.

Yes, those are the random things running through my brain. That, and I think I want some hot chocolate and I'm really wishing I had the stuff to make some Valentine-y craft right now.

Procrasti-wha...?

2010-01-04T17:15:00.002-07:00

New Year. New beginnings. New page. New calendar. I love the beginning of the year, where everything is fresh and clean and there's all those perfectly square boxes hanging on the wall waiting to be filled in. I have such great, grandiose ideas for myself which rarely come to fruition, but whatever. I can dream, right?

Better organized
Get this and that done on time/right away/when it happens, etc.
Clean this more, spend less time there

Well, part of my New Year's tradition had to be pushed back a day because Bill's family was still in town and I just thought it might be a tad rude to bring out the giant red and green boxes and start tearing down the tree. Instead, we lazed around the house, much like we had been for the entire week, and ate. And watched tv. And ate some more. And played games. It was great. Granted, I was itching to get things cleaned up, but it was only a day off of my original plan.

I started my routine clean up the next day, but because everything is in such a different order in this house than in the last house (where we had six Christmases) it took a lot longer to find where everything needed to be. And the neighbor kids came over. Which meant mulitple interruptions. Which meant, I didn't finish putting Christmas away.

Then it was the third. And a Sunday. So we went to church like usual and I insisted hubby stop at Target on the way home so I could check out the picked over Christmas leftovers at 75% off. There was hardly a thing left, but I managed to find some "filler" ornaments for next year. We got home, ate lunch and then of course it was the kids nap time. They desperately needed it. Ok, more like I really needed them to go away, but I digress. Bill used that time to play Wii and so I decided to read. Do you know what happens to me on a lazy day when I read? I fall asleep. And when I woke up, football was on. That meant Bill's butt was glued to the couch. Do you know what that meant? I obviously felt justified in keeping my butt glued to the couch as well.

And then came today. Today was the day to *really* start anew. The kids were back in school, Bill was back at work, company is gone... On the agenda: start my little excercise routine and finish putting Christmas away. My SIL gave me one of her Wii DVDs to work out to. All I did was complete my profile which had a couple of excercises on it and I was D-U-N. Can't blame it on the altitude as we've been here since summer. I'm just that out of shape. GOOO ME! Obviously I need some work. Ok, fine, how about putting Christmas away? First, I had to take a shower. Then go and get Leah from school. And then make lunch. And then Leah wanted to watch me do something on the computer. And THEN I decided to keep working on Christmas. And then I ran out of oomph. And now it's 5:30 and my butt is glued to the tv, Trey's head is resting on my shoulder while he watches tv and Christmas is still not put away.

Maybe tomorrow it will get done. If I don't kill myself trying to excercise. Or, you know, if other things don't get it the way first.

Endings & Beginnings

2009-12-30T09:54:00.003-07:00

We've been busy. As I'm sure you have, too. We're still hosting Christmas company and staying in our jammies way too late. Santa brought us a Wii and the first words out of my 8 year old's mouth every morning are, "can we play the Wii?" There are still a ton of baked goodies and Jesus' birthday cake leftover. There's a few more pieces of turkey in the fridge from our big day after Christmas dinner. The house is still a mess. The laundry is multiplying by the minute. There is still snow on the ground and the decorations are still up.

As much as I'm itching to clean and wash and put away and start anew I know I will miss the excess that makes my home so festive. We'll be back in school and in our routines and the snow won't glisten from Christmas lights anymore. It will be my first winter where there's really a winter. I have a long list of projects for our new home that have been waiting patiently for me. Painting and decorating. Changing light fixtures and organizing. What a busy time of year. I'm already thinking of what I'll do differently next Christmas.

I'm hoping and praying that 2010 is a great year. No major car troubles (bah humbug), healing of my husband's rotator cuff, unpacking the rest of the house and maybe a vacation or two back home. What are your hopes for the new year?

Almost Done

2009-12-21T22:48:00.003-07:00

The stockings are hung. The presents are wrapped. The house is (mostly) clean. I've been baking all day in preparation of wowing my neighbors with my wicked baking skills. Oh, except for that "high altitude" thing which equals flat cookies. My mom flies in tomorrow from San Diego and my hubby's family flies in from Cincinnati on Saturday. All that's left is wrapping up the kids' Christmas jammies, making buckeyes and a bit of grocery shopping and we'll be ready for Christmas!! This is my favorite time of year as I remember the magical times during my childhood and try to make the days memorable for my kids.

Merry Christmas!!

Teachers Gifts

2009-12-16T20:01:00.006-07:00

Each year I'm a bit stumped as to what to give those who take care of my kids. I think all the apple themed teacher things are super cute but I know other moms think so too. I'm guessing that after the first year of teaching, teachers have hit their limit of apple/ruler/chalkboard resin collectibles. With the economy being as it is, our car deciding that it's needed mulitple major surgeries over the last couple of months and my kids needing actual winter clothes I decided to be inventive (read: cheap). And I went with the edible thing so that I'm not contributing to the never ending pile of "stuff" that we all seem to accumulate.

Here's what the kids are giving out: a Christmas mug with a packet of cocoa, chocolate dipped spoons with crushed candycanes and candied almonds. Wanna see how I did it? Lucky you I took pictures.

First thing: get all your stuff together. A bunch of almonds from the bulk bins at your local whole foods or equivalent. The recipe calls for unblanched but I just get the regular roasted, UNsalted kind. Sugar. An egg (I like to get the cage free kind because I'm all sensitive to the chicken's happiness and whatnot). Cinnamon. Ground cloves. Nutmeg.

Set your oven to 300ºF.

While your oven is warming up, separate your egg cause you're only going to use the white. As best as you can, get a Tablespoon of that egg white and plop it in a bowl. Get 2 cups of your almonds and dump them in there and stir, stir, stir until your almonds are all shiny and covered in egg goop.

Ya know, I 'fixed' this picture at least three times but it's not cooperating, so if you want, you can tilt your head to the side to make it look right. Next, add 1/4 cup of sugar, 2 teaspoons of ground cinnamon, 1/4 tsp of nutmeg and 1/4 tsp of cloves and stir it all together.

Pour your dry mixed ingredients over your shiny almonds and stir well, making sure every little nut is covered in sugary goodness.

Dump them onto an ungreased cookie sheet (I like the Silpat because it means less cleanup for me!), making sure that they're in a single layer.

Pop them in the oven and set the timer for 30 minutes.

While you're waiting, you can either go on to the next part of the recipe or do something way more fun like facebook, read an issue of People, or read my blog. Just a suggestion.

When they're done, let them cool if you can resist and then store the ones you're not giving away in an airtight container.

Here's how we're going to make the spoons. They're super easy. Easy peasy.

You'll need a microwave safe glass container, plastic spoons (or metal if you have money to spare), baker's chocolate and/or chocolate chips and a box of candy canes.

Take out a couple of candy canes and unwrap them. Stick em in a ziplock bag. Get a rolling pin, meat tenderizer, mallet, Wii controller, whatever, just something to whack the heck out of the canes. Smash them to bits, but not too much or you'll just have candy cane powder. You still want the pieces to look pretty when you're done. Pour your candy pieces into a bowl and have a spoon ready to sprinkle the pieces onto your chocolate spoons.

Get another cookie sheet or jelly roll pan and line it with wax paper.

Put your chocolate in your glass bowl and microwave at 50 power for a minute. Take it out and stir it. Yes, even if it's not even close to melting, stir it anyway. Stick it back in the microwave for 30 second intervals stirring each time. The chocolate will NOT look ready even when it is. Just stir stir stir until it is smooth and glossy. If you overcook it, throw it out. It's done. You need more chocolate. Toss a piece into your mouth for good measure.

Dip a spoon into the chocolate lava and use an extra spoon to get some onto the neck of the spoon. Tap off the extra and move it over to the candy cane bowl, sprinkling the broken mixture onto the wet chocolate. Put your spoon onto the cookie sheet and move on to the next one.

Here's what mine looked like when I was done:

Stick the whole pan of spoons in the fridge for 15 minutes to set the chocolate. Let them come to room temperature before you wrap them up.

Here's the mugs, the cello wrappers for the almonds and my box of cocoa before assembly.

I took each spoon and wrapped it in plastic wrap, tied off with metallic green curling ribbon. The candied almonds are neatly wrapped in their bags and everything fits nicely in the mugs!
Happy gift giving! If you decide to borrow my idea, will you let me know? Wonder if my kids teachers read my blog...

Equals

2009-12-13T18:21:00.002-07:00

My awesome husband is on a crazy diet. Someone asked if it was his earlobes he needed to lose weight in, because she couldn't see where it could possibly come from. Funny thing about the military: they want you to like, be in top notch shape and stuff. Psh. So my dh has until the end of the year to do his official weigh in to show his boss that he is x pounds or less. Could there be a worse time to try and lose weight? All the delicious goodness that is abound makes it hard to resist. He's been doing GREAT! Me? Notsomuch. When Bill diets, I end up not eating. What's the point of cooking for just myself? My kids don't eat real food, so they don't even come up in the equation.

Ok, so I eat. Just not well. A trip to Sprouts resulted in my bringing home a bag of chocolate cappuccino covered almonds. A handful of those and a cup of coffee makes for a great breakfast. Hummus and pita chips? Add a Pepsi to it and there's my lunch. I managed to drag something out of the freezer and heat it up for dinner, or find the need to go shopping and stop by McDonald's for my nourishment. It's not that I don't like to cook. I'm lazy. Why go through the trouble of cleaning, prepping, cooking, eating and cleaning if I don't have to? Months that Bill is deployed I live on cereal and frozen dinners.

We weighed ourselves. He, of course, did so to see where he was in his dieting progress. I did it just because I was curious. He's been disciplined and eating nothing but lean meats, tons of veggies and some fruit. Drinking water and black coffee. I've been drinking sodas and creamed coffee, chocolate and nachos. We lost ten pounds. Each. A calorie is a calorie. I just didn't eat enough junk to put weight on. He ate a ton and burned it off.

What I've been eating is way more fun, but for some reason he's had a lot more energy. I can't wait until he's off this diet and I can start eating like a normal person again.

Frozen

2009-12-07T18:15:00.001-07:00

It's too cold to blog.

My San Diego blood isn't thick enough for this craziness.

Get Away

2009-12-02T12:47:00.008-07:00

We went home for Thanksgiving. Home to San Diego. And we drove. That should preface our funny, wonderful vacation. We pulled Trey out of school two hours early to get a bit of a head start down to Albuquerque. Bill found an Air Base down there which always means cheaper hotel rates. We finally found an open gate to get into the base around midnight and as the kids slept in the car, Bill ran in to check in and get keys to this very unassuming looking military hotel. When he finally came back to the car, he told me that we had to drive to our house. Uh...the hotel is right in front of us. We weren't staying there. We were staying in a house. I'm still confused. We're paying for military lodging, right? Yes, but they've converted the older base houses into temporary lodging facilities and we'd be bunking in a two bedroom HOUSE for the night. Well, dangit, why wasn't this an option when we got to Denver??

Sure enough, the front door lock had been replaced by a card reader and we walked into a typical two bedroom 1950s military home, fully furnished, linened and stocked with dishes. It even had a full size washer and dryer. Too bad I was so tired that I didn't really care. Bill cared though. He cared enough to rebook our room for the route back.

We got on the road Saturday morning around 10 and finally arrived at my mom's just before 11pm. The 40 is a very boring drive that I'd forgotten about since we hadn't driven that route in twelve years. Even with the DVD player, the kids were bored. I was bored. Bill was bored. Our car was bored. We put "Cars" in the DVD player to compare the movie to where we were driving. Yeah, I chalk that up to being educational. I'll take what I can get.

While back home we caught up with friends that were terribly missed these last four plus months. We hit Knott's Berry Farm during their Veteran Appreciation Month (i.e. free and deeply discounted tickets...although they sure made up for it when we paid $52 for burgers and fries for a family of four--OUCH!). We hit the beach. To make it a true So Cal beach time, we went to Rubios for fish tacos, er...or Bill got the fish tacos, I got chicken, and took it to the beach to eat with the salty air complimenting our Southern California meal. The kids searched for seashells while playing in the water. It was so awesome to be home during the freakishly hot heat wave that hit. I think I finally thawed out from all of this cold Denver weather.

And then there was Thanksgiving.

For the last ten years or so we've had a tradition of having dinner at my mom's best friend's place. They've been friends since the early 60s and our families have all grown up and are growing up together albeit here and there and mostly on holidays. The other two kids who were at Thanksgiving this year are Trey and Leah's BEST FRIENDS on Thanksgiving. But only on Thanksgiving. During the rest of the year, they're remembered and are actually more like cousins, but for that one day they are the bees knees. They needed no warming up time, small talk or mindless chit chat before they all ran to the back bedroom and started to play. After about a half an hour I hear Trey cry. Not just a cry like his feelings are hurt but a hyperventilating, oh-my-Lord-I'm-going-to-die cry. Well, Trey tends to be slightly dramatic so I didn't freak out when he started. He ran out of the room holding his mouth. I deduced that he'd somehow been hit. I pulled him into the bathroom and shoved a wad of toilet paper up to his lips to get him to calm down and catch the bloody spit that was starting to accumulate. And then I saw it. Or rather, didn't see it. He'd lost a tooth. Hooray!!! The only way this kid has ever lost a tooth is if someone else extracts it. I'd been nagging him for two months to get that tooth out. Turns out, the other little lady who is just four, was involved in a three person pillow fight with Trey and she accidentally knocked it out. Now, where was the tooth?

I went back in the room to three frightened faces, explained what happened and said, "I have a game for all of you to play!! We're going to play, 'let's find Trey's tooth!'" Yay! They were excited to look for this treasure and I hadn't even offered a prize. Trey was quite the stud for earning a war wound so early in the day.

Trey's Jack-O-lantern smile

Besides three generations of family friends getting together, another great thing about this home is that they have horses. And chickens. And cats. And dogs. At one time there were ducks and a goat, but the coyotes took care of the ducks and the goat went to live with a family that didn't care that he head butt EVERYTHING. The chickens were the main attraction this year since there's a new rooster in the coop named, Favio. Favio the rooster. He's boisterous and loud and thinks pretty highly of himself. Trey got to pet Favio and try to catch the hens while in the coop with my mom's friend. As I walked twenty steps away to get a picture of Leah on Kahlua the Horse, I hear Trey crying again. What now?! Favio attacked Trey. Trey wasn't hurt, just stunned that a rooster tried to eat him.

I proclaimed it a great day for a couple of reasons. 1) To distract Trey from any more crying. 2) It WAS a pretty memorable thing. I mean, who loses a tooth AND gets attacked by poultry in one day? If he was old enough to write a "What I did on my Thanksgiving vacation" I think he'd get an A.

There are two boys at this table. Really.

Two days later, after a week of wearing flip flops and capris it was time to pack up and head back to the Rockies. As soon as that Freak Heat Wave hit, it left again and was replaced by the most torrential rain I've seen in San Diego in probably ten years. It came down in sheets. After goodbyes and a drenched Bill got in the car, we started out the driveway. With rain pouring down the windshield, Bill turned on the wipers. And then one of them came loose and flapped back and forth along the window. We pulled over immediately and my poor hubby braved the rain again to reattach it. And then it happened again. And again. And then both sides came off. It was so random and such bad timing that it was funny. I mean, it could have been sprinkling but no. The streets were starting to flood and the gutters were white and foamy with so much rain pouring into them. Bill pulled into a Wal Mart parking lot after lots of praying for no cars to come near us and Bill drove almost blindly along the drenched roads. Two new blades (even though we just replaced them two weeks ago) and two new Chargers jerseys later and we were finally on our way to New Mexico. He'd wanted to leave at 6am that morning. I told him he was smoking crack and I'd rather leave at 8. With all of the excitement, we didn't get going until 10. ::sigh::

We hit Flagstaff just around the time we needed a hit of Starbucks and pulled over. By the time our coffee was ready and it was time to get back on the road, it started to snow. A ton. It blew in horizontally, towards us. For all non-previous-snow-driving people, it was like the ride Star Tours where you hit warp speed and the stars start stringing by you. Oh yeah, who was driving at this point? Me. The non-previous-snow-driving person. We got to our hotel/house around midnight again and FINALLY made it back to our house Sunday night.

What a funny, unpredictable, wonderful Thanksgiving. Oh what will this Christmas hold? I'm almost afraid to ask.

Thankful

2009-11-26T09:48:00.002-07:00

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

There is much to be thankful for.

I'll be back to update early next week.

Blessings to you and yours.

Cars: the necessary evil

2009-11-18T08:55:00.003-07:00

Ever have one of those days? Yeah, I'm having one of those months. The weather is changing. For the first time in forever I needed to address the weather and my car. My tires were, um, bald. Not receeding, or wearing out, but treadless. Fortunately, we'd been saving and we bought four very expensive tires for my "free" car. Not that we're snobby about tires, only that my car is huge and therefore requires huge, expensive tires. Cha-ching.

On our trip up the mountain to move out to this snow laden state, our check engine light came on. Hmph. Our battery light had already been on, for about a month while we were back home. We had a few people check it out with no explanation. Well, I have my own explanation: It's a FORD! An evil Ford. Anyway, we made it up and over the Continental Divide without problem and after we'd settled a bit in our home I decided it was probably time to figure out why the engine light was still on.

Mistake #1. We took it to a Ford dealership. My superior thinking was that they'd be able to figure everything out, including why the battery light was on for no apparent reason. After about 8 hours of our car in their care we decided to give them a call. "Oh yeah, we were just about to call you." Rrrright. After going over everything that was apparently wrong with our free car, they wanted $2800.00 to fix it. *blink blink* Um. No. We decided to just pay for them to do the oil change. Our bill? $136.00. Again with the blinking. Apparently, there was a $100 diagnostic fee they forgot to tell us about. To their credit, after we looked at the guy with the deer in the headlights look and explained that we weren't told about the fee, he took it off. Still, $36 for an oil change? Rip off!!

Then the snow came. We had a blizzard. In October. The car sat in the garage for three days while we were all housebound. No work, no school, no nuthin'.

On Bill's first day back at work, he took my car. My car decided it was sick. I know it caught swine flu while sitting in that filthy Ford dealership. Now the check engine light was not only on, it was blinking. Blinking light = REALLY bad!!

Mistake #2: Took the car back to the dealership and asked why they broke our car. Did they take responsibility for it all of a sudden not working. Pshaw. Of course not. I mean, it was fine before they had it, not after they had it, obviously they didn't do anything wrong. This is where I realize that they see a California license plate and the fact that it's a big SUV and assume we have money. Ha! Jokes on them. We're military. We don't have any money!! Husband is beyond mad and threatening to write to everyone just short of the White House to complain. I calmly walk him back to the car, petting him to keep him calm.

We take it somewhere else. Somewhere that a friend recommended. A bunch of money later and 8 replaced boots or shoes or some sort of footware on the cylinders and all new spark plugs, we drive away. Battery light is still on. But the engine light is off. And at least it can get above 45mph.

After a week of searching the internet and youtube and reading manuals, my not-mechanic turned mechanic hubby replaces the alternator AND the brake booster. Did you know brakes had boosters? Me either. Oh, and did you know that evil Ford makes their alternators so that you can't just take them down to the local auto store to have them tested? They need special equipment? Oh and did you know that if you wanted to actually fix something on a Ford in a time less than a weekend, you need special Ford tools?? Yeah, don't EVER buy a Ford. I just kept telling myself that it was free and I haven't had a car payment in three years. Maybe I was chanting it, I can't remember. I think I may have lit a candle, and I'm not even Catholic.

Mistake #3: We go to the gas station. It was then that my hubby and I realized that the lowest grade of gas, which we've been putting in our car since we got it, is NOT 87 in Colorado like it is back in California. It's 85. 85? Really? I thought the lowest grade was standard across the board? For three months we've been putting in 85, not even thinking that it wasn't our usual 87. Um...did we break our car? Why was it ok up until the point that the dealership had it? Dangit!! Why didn't the welcome package warn us about gasoline?! This place has crazy blizzards in October and lower grade gas? Where are we?!

Thankfully we've learned that with a little confidence, my husband can fix my car (there was no other option) and we should be able to hang on to it until Trey is driving it to school in eight years. That is, unless we keep putting the wrong gas in it.

Oh, and the battery light is still on.

Painting

2009-11-06T17:48:00.002-07:00

Today was gorgeous. It felt like a normal day back home. Sunny and 75. Oh how I miss my predictable weather! I really feel like I'm part lizard. When the sun is out and the weather is warm, my work production goes up. I can go on for hours. I'm motivated and happy. When it's cold or grey outside, I can't hardly manage to function let alone get anything else done. My to-do list for this house is HUGE! I thought that having our very first home that we own would help my motivation. Hmm, apparently not. Today was different. I painted. For six hours. Both of my kids had a day off from school which meant time outside for them and time to work for me! I am covered in specks and sploshes of lime green and lavender and I'm tired in a very good way. My husband is on his way home from work, Chipotle in hand and I feel like I can say that today was great.

Tomorrow, the weather is supposed to be just as nice. I'll be painting again, but instead of the walls, it will be me. Our annual Marine Corps Ball is in downtown Denver tomorrow. This will be the 14th ball I've attended. They're all magical in their own little way. I wish we had good friends coming with us like we've had in the past, but a date night with my hubby will be just fine with me.

Halloween in Colorado

2009-11-02T09:33:00.005-07:00

I really wasn't sure what Halloween would be like for us this year, but I knew it would be a lot different than the norm for our family. Last year, we thought we'd be in Georgia by now. Obviously, that didn't happen but we did end up far from home. Anyway, we went trick or treating with some friends last year and had a great time but it was HOT. Like, crazy hot. No apple cider to warm us up when we were done or anything traditional like that. Sweaty kids want something cold!

This year in Colorado the snow came early and fierce. The sky was finally clear on Halloween night, but my kids still had to wear layers (huh?) and make sure to walk around the snow to get to different homes. Leah had to wear clothing underneath her costume, which was her ballet recital outfit from June. She ended up looking like a young Abby Sciuto with her stripes and crazy colored hair. I thought she looked pretty cute but if I'd let her know the she looked kinder-goth it wouldn't have gone well with her "princess ballerina" mentality.

I ended up taking this picture because it just struck me as funny.

And then my neighbor, who we went out with to raid houses, made fun of me. What? Snow on Halloween is funny. A snowman is hilarious in its absurdity. Can I help it if this is weird to me?

Here's one of my kids and the neighbor kids. If Darth looks familiar, well, it's because he came with us last year. What can I say? I'm frugal and the costume still fit. He was good with it, so double score for me!

We only made it around the block before my kids were popsicles and we decided to call it a night. They still got tons of loot. Now I know for next year to get a costume that can be layered multiple times.

A Day Late & a Dollar Short

2009-10-28T13:31:00.010-06:00

Did I forget to mention that my first born celebrated a birthday? Really? Oops. Good thing he doesn't read my blog since it was quite an ordeal to make him feel better about his birthday being the latest in the year of our little family by telling him, "But yours will be the FIRST in Colorado!" Ooooh...aahhhh. Yeah, well, you do what you can to avoid a meltdown.

Trey turned eight earlier this month. I didn't want to throw a party for a couple of reasons.

I don't think kids should have a huge bash every year. It kinda makes them less appreciated in my opinion.
We just moved. My house is in no way, shape or form ready to have guests here.
I really didn't want to throw a party. Yep, I'm that mom

So, we told Trey he could pick one friend and we'd go to Dave and Busters. Trey chose his new BFF to go with and new BFF's mom told us about this place that is local to Colorado that is like Chuck E. Cheese's for kids older than 5. Bowling, go-karts, arcades, mini-golf, pizza (even though Trey doesn't eat pizza...yeah, don't go there), a huge ball obstacle course and it goes on. Here's Trey, new BFF and Leah waiting somewhat patiently for the lunch that Trey didn't eat. Yeah, that's totally typical. UGH.

After a bowling alley lunch (don't be jealous) of pizza, chicken strips, fries and orange soda for the kids (whose mom lets kids drink soda? Seriously?) we headed down to the lanes for some cosmic bowling. Not only did we fulfill a fun activity that Trey loves, but he got to check a box in his scouting requirement handbook. Score!

Leah shows her mad skills on the alley using the ramp.

She is a rockstar, in case you were wondering.

The place had ONE ride inside. One was more than enough. It's called the twister. Barf. The kids loved it though. That thing kicked up quite a bit of wind. I could have dried my nailpolish. If I still wore nailpolish. This ride is like one of those horrible carnival rides where the whole ride spins and then you can spin your individual car. I felt ok with it at first because I realized it was being torn down every five weeks and moved to a new location like a regular carnival ride. And then they started the ride WITHOUT checking each of the kids' safety harnesses. !!!

Thankfully, they all held on really tight and no one fell out.

Here's Trey and new BFF in this massive, three story ball war-zone, complete with pneumatic guns to shoot these foam balls at your friends or new found enemies. They stayed in here for an HOUR. One hour. Conveniently, there are tables right outside where the parents can take a break and if they want, even get wasted drunk. Oh, and when you're done? Just leave your beer or wine glass on the table for any kid to walk past a take a swig of. I didn't see it happen but I can imagine it does.

Bill and Leah filling the massive ball rocket with ammunition.

We hit the golf course as a last hoorah. There's the boys tolerating the camera and Leah soaking it up.

This place was a HUGE hit for the kids. For Bill and I? Eh...not so much. It felt dirty. Like a state fair. The whole, not-checking-for-safety thing and the temptation for rebellious kids having booze at their fingertips was kind of a turnoff. My little innocents were blissfully unaware, but we will definitely be visiting Dave and Buster's if we're feeling gamey again.

We made it home around 9pm. Just in time for cake and presents after dropping off new BFF. This was by FAR Trey's favorite present. It's a phlat ball. Just like it sounds, it starts out flat and by the time it reaches your friend or your target or you friend who is the target, it opens up as a ball. It was a hit with all the neighbor boys as well.

Happy Birthday, Dude!

Not Me Monday

2009-10-26T08:35:00.000-06:00

It's Not Me Monday, Fun Day!! If you're unfamiliar with the whole dealio and you're interested in being in the loop you can go here and read all about it.

I hate football. HATE it. The only reason I tolerate the Superbowl is to hang out with friends, eat lots of horrible food and watch the talked about commercials. So, there is no way that I've become interested in how the home team is doing. Not me. I mean, just because I've been forced away from the best place to live in the country does not mean that my devotion would include the lamest game (meaning I can't understand it) ever.

I did not just spend an unknown amount of money on cool weather clothing without figuring out my budget for the month. That would be ludicrous, especially since I was a finance major for a while in college. I mean, who does that? Just because cool weather clothing is mostly for show back home and it's a necessity out here does NOT mean that I can just go shopping nilly willy. I would never do that.

Oh, and of course, that would mean that I would not even think about taking advantage of an Old Navy deal that came across in my email for a mystery discount. Psh. I'm not so influenced by a sale on already clearance priced clothes that I can't pass that up. Seriously. I'm not working. We need to save. Who would do that? Not me!

Since we seem to be following a pattern here, I most certainly would not completely forget about a six pack of chicken breasts that I bought for a great deal until I opened the fridge one day and was knocked over by a horrible smell. With the economy the way it is and those not able to even buy food, I would not let food go to waste. I wouldn't have forgotten to separate it, package it up and stick it in the freezer. Not me!

Kid Torture

2009-10-20T08:54:00.003-06:00

I'm a pro. I didn't even need to take any classes, it just comes naturally. It all began about seven years ago. I was so mean to my then one year old. I would force him to...(if you have a sensitive soul you may not want to read this)...eat. I know, I know. I should attend meetings or something. Food that does not come from a jar for a one year old is purely meant for torture and disdain and I can only be some kind of sadist to continue the cycle. I mean, it's been an ongoing ~~battle~~ torture session ever since then, although he's starting to weaken. Insert evil laugh here. I knew that if he would bend under my pressure I'd eventually have power.

I'm super SUPER mean to my other kid. I make her wear clothes she hates. Isn't that great?! Oh, and shoes and the occassional sweatshirt. I can teach you the tricks of the trade for three low monthly payments of $9.95 plus $3.95 S&H. Oh, who am I kidding? I can just tell you here but if you share these techniques with anyone be sure to give credit where credit is due. You just get some pants and put them on your kid. When she starts complaining that they're too loose (because she has an 8 inch waist, or so it seems) you tighten the adjustable waistband until there is nothing left to tighten. Button her up and voila! She'll throw herself into a fitful heap on the floor crying, "They FEEL FUNNNNEEEEE!!!! They're TOOO LOOOOOSE!!!" Oh yeah, it worked! As long as she seems to think that the pants are too loose even though they're technically a size too small and tightened to the point where there's no gap in the back, then you've won the battle of parent torture. Congratulations. For bonus points, make your child wear a sweatshirt over a long sleeve shirt when the temps reach the 40s. When she yells, "It FEEEELS FUNNNNEEEEE!!!! WAAAHHHHH" again because she was throwing such a fit and was in jeopardy of missing the bus that you didn't take the time to have her hold the sleeves of her shirt in her tiny hands while you slid the sweatshirt on, be confident that you have won the battle. You know it's a good day when one child has two meltdowns before 9am. I chose to leave the third meltdown out today: socks and shoes, but I'm confident I will be discussing that battle sometime in the near future. You may bookmark this site for future reference.

My own reward came when the multitude of moms at the bus stop looked over at Leah and I (because she couldn't walk at this point--score a point--so I was carrying her) and asked with that half frowny face, "What's wrong with Leah? Is she sad because she misses you while she's at school?"

"No, she's mad about her clothes." And then the laughter would come. Not the 'ha ha, sucks to be you' laughter but the 'oh, I've totally been there' laughter. There are a lot of torture pros out there, just be sure you take advice from a legitimite one. I'd hate for you to waste your money on someone who advises you to torture your child simply by making them watch old reruns of Alf. That's just mean.

Part Two

2009-10-13T14:59:00.003-06:00

Ok, ok, here it is. The second half of the story. We moved into our hotel in the business section of Denver, unpacked, and called our realtor. My FIL, who is also a realtor, did some researching for us and found an AWESOME lady to be our realtor, who totally listened to us, was completely honest about every place we picked out and didn't try to get us to look at stuff out of our price range. We made home searching our full time job while trying to entertain two small children and figure out which was is which since the mountains out here are on the wrong side. Bill still had to check into work, we still needed to do normal errands like grocery shopping and I had to find stuff to do during the day because 300 square feet is not much space to play. Fortunately there is a public pool/water park in the area that is CHEAP (like $8 cheap) and not like the actual Travel Channel water parks. We googled local parks, we went shopping, we somehow survived the very long four weeks in that hotel.

We looked at a dozen or so houses all along the eastern side of Denver. I had done so much research before we left San Diego that I knew what schools were good, which areas were low crime and what kind of neighborhoods we'd be looking at (thank you google maps). We saw the *perfect* house on our third trip out. It was like a page out of the Pottery Barn catalog. I was ready to make an offer right then and there. Thankfully I'm not impulsive because there was no growing room. What you saw was what there was, which meant no guest room/office/craft room. Boo. We looked at two foreclosures that were amazing. Unfortunately, they both had multiple offers and we didn't have time on our side. The house we ended up deciding on, we'd looked at twice and turned down twice. I thought it was too close to the main road and the eating area was way too small, but other than that, it was a great house. After you compare home after home, certain things seem workable and the home you've rented for the past six years in the quietest neighborhood ever and the excessive square footage become obvious that there was a reason you were renting. Um, because we couldn't afford to buy a place like that, that's why! So we put in our offer, expecting a counter offer. Years of watching HGTV makes me think that I'm an expert when knowing what to expect. They countered but it was hardly noticeable. We closed in thirty days and voila! We bought our first home. I never thought I'd buy anywhere other than California. It's fun and exciting and all, but I'm thinking I would have been elated had it been where I wanted. Maybe, eventually, this IS where I'll want to be. Our neighborhood is great. We met more of our neighbors here the first weekend than we'd met at our old neighborhood the entire time we lived there. My kids are outside playing with friends every single day which didn't happen back "home". We were invited to a block party our first week here. The kids' school is superb. I might think that about any school after leaving the brokest state in the west. My kids actually have art! And music! And computers! That's just crazy talk. They started late because the school is on a year round calendar. Who would think that school starts in July?? Then there was that whole pesky thing of proving that you actually lived in the district.

We're moving a lot more slowly than I'd thought as far as settling in goes. The air up here is thin, and it truly does make for more work. We've been in the state for two and a half months and I still get winded going up the stairs. I have painting and decorating to do. I need to act like I know how to sew curtains and put up some window treatments. We still need to finish opening boxes. Ugh! Just about the time we get it done, it will be time to move again. I long to buy our 'forever' home while living in this transitional state of our life.

To add to the pile, Bill had rotator cuff surgery a month ago which meant a lot of time devoted to him, and not the house. He's been incredibly agile using only one arm. As one new friend calls him, "Chicken Wing". All the 'guy' projects I need him to get done are waiting patiently. Too bad he'll be ready to do them when the weather is even colder than it is now. Oh...and crazy lady? The woman I mentioned in a previous post? Yeah, we got a call from our insurance that she's claiming injury. When the adjuster came out to take pictures of the car, he laughed. "Uh, well, it looks like you've got a LOT of damage there. Seems you'll need to get a new license plate frame." Darn it! And I was saving up for a Coach purse, too. Thank GOD I took pictures. Insurance has them and hopefully crazy lady will disappear.

There's so much more that has happened here. You'll just have to have faith that I will blog again ;)

Not Me Monday!

2009-10-11T20:02:00.001-06:00

I'm a long time reader, first time poster of this fun weekly tradition. If ya wanna know what it's all about, clicky on the fancy button above. Let's get on with the fun!

I most certainly did not ignore my blog for a very extended period of time. My last post said I'd write again soon, and well, soon is relative. Yes it is! No, really. Do you believe me yet?

I did not completely forget that my darling daughter requested a cheeseburger from McD's and accidentally order her chicken nuggets instead and then after she looked into her square boxed meal with a face of disappointment, I did not tell her that the cheeseburger machine was broken. I mean, seriously, what kind of mom would do that? Not me!

I am not so ridiculously addicted to crushed ice that I'm willing to chomp on it even when the temps outside reach freezing. What kind of crazy person does that? Not me.

I did not spend $5 on a febreeze Autumn-smelling candle at Wal-Mart. Not that buying a candle is silly in and of itself, but I was a PartyLite consultant for three years and have plenty of candles. Purchasing another one from a discount store is just ridiculous.

Happy Columbus-the-kids-are-in-school-but-the-adults-are-off-Day!

The Mile High City

2009-08-07T14:55:00.000-06:00

Last October, right after Bill got home from his third deployment to Iraq, we were given orders. The Marines wanted us to move away from everything and everyone we loved. They wanted us to move. To Georgia. UGH! Well, I already talked about that in a previous post. Long story short, no Georgia, but we were moving. To Colorado. Ok, not perfect but a heckuva lot better.

Bill and I celebrated thirteen years of marriage by dropping our kids off at my mom’s one last time and headed down to Donovan’s for some overpriced steak. Any time we’d fly somewhere we noticed Donovan’s listed in the top ten steak houses and had never gone to the restaurant in our own back yard. We’re leaving the area for a while, now’s as good a time as any! Now I’m all about fancy, but I felt out of place there. They have a dress code (which was obviously not enforced by the looks of some of the diners). A valet is the first thing you see as they whisk your car away and give you good wishes of a wonderful meal. Our water didn’t show up in glasses. A bottle with the restaurant’s name on the label was placed on our table and our wait staff poured it into wine glasses for us. The wine list was longer than the menu, which was only two pages indicating that it was so fancy, you didn’t need options. Some of the wines were $500 a bottle. Oh yes, that’s correct. I didn’t know what to choose and figured they’d be snickering at me back in the kitchen for ordering something so “common folk”. So I didn’t. I ordered a margarita. I figured I’d be safe. Oh, but then she gave me a choice of tequila. I don’t know tequila. We let them choose. We’re so beer budget in this $500 wine place. Bill and I ordered our very expensive meals and determined that they were worth the price. Lots of business deals happen here. Lots of celebrations and hoity toity things. It wouldn’t be our regular spot, but I’m glad we got a chance to check them out. We headed to our hotel with ocean views for one more night before heading to the hills, so to speak.

The next day: Moving day. We got off to a later start than we wanted. We didn’t even leave my mom’s until around 11. We had our packed to the gills car (do cars have gills? Packed to the headliners?) on a tow dolly, hooked up to the SUV which had Bill and I and two kids and two cats and lots of “stuff”. I tried to be the nice kitty mommy and drug my cats. I’ve given my cat a pill before so I figured I could do it again. What I’d forgotten is that I had a kitten at the time. Now I have a huge 20 pound monster who has no issues biting the momma that feeds him if it means he can avoid having something shoved down his throat. I tried butter, half and half, force, bribery, presents, a reverse neutering job. Nothing worked. I tried on the other cat. No dice. Now they were not only mad and freaked out, but foamy and drooly to boot. Yep, cats foam at the mouth when they get something gross on their tongue. It’s very Turner and Hooch-ish. The kids thought it was the funniest thing they’d seen all year. Yeah. Funny. So, we just grabbed them, shoved them in the carriers and let them loose in the back of the SUV. We spent way too much on one of those grid contraptions used to keep dogs in the back and put that up to keep my crazy felines from running circles around the car. They had a nice little apartment set up for them. I don’t know why they didn’t appreciate it. They complained all the way up to the 138 (2 hours for non-locals). I kept telling them they would have been a lot happier had they taken their medicine.

My non-furry kids did AWESOME. We drove for eleven hours and I was so proud of them. I was worried about traveling for so long. The last time we did a long road trip was when Trey was two and complained for 6 straight hours. And no, I’m not exaggerating. “All done! All done! Get down, get down momma!” Aaarrrggg! He fell asleep right as we hit L.A. Of course, just two hours short of home and he finally shuts up. So anyway, we made it all the way to Beaver, UT with little protesting. Most of the trip was through the stinkin’ hot deserts. Only 115. It could have been worse—really.

We stayed at a Best Western only because they allow pets and there is no way I wasn’t going to bring my first babies. The hotel was…eh…not the best place we’ve stayed, but Beaver is out in the middle of Utah, aka, nowhere. The good thing about hotel beds is that they are on platforms so when your cats freak out, they can’t hide under the bed and just get out of your reach when it’s time to go the next day. What? Wait a minute. Oh yeah, this was the ONLY place I’ve ever stayed that did NOT have platform beds and the cats hid out under the beds the whole time. We weren’t there to play so we ate and slept and then needed to leave. Now comes the gross part and I’m ashamed to even be writing this although I wasn’t responsible for it. Bill and I had to work together to get the cats out. Push and pull sort of thing. We got them out and seconds after they were pulled out from under the bed…two little beetles crawled out from under the bed. EWWWW!!!! Oh yes, you can guess what they were and you’d probably be right. Dis-gus-ting. Don’t ever stop in Beaver, Utah. Blech.

We headed out to Eagle, CO for our next stay. Again, staying at a Best Western. A little apprehensive considering the morning we’d had. Because it was our second night, we got a free upgrade. This hotel totally made up for the previous one. Our beds were awesome. There was an indoor pool for the kids to spend some energy and it was in a beautiful area. Ok, BW, you’ve redeemed yourselves…mostly. We went to dinner downtown at this little place called The Dusty Boot. Why you’d want to eat anywhere where dirt and footwear are concerned, I don’t know, but they did have good food!

Finally on Thursday we hopped in the car for the last leg of the trip. We were out of the desert part of western Colorado and entered the mountainous green area. We could see rivers and trees for miles. There were walking paths along the river. Then we headed into Vail where extremely expensive tourist areas are. We saw groups of ski lifts and chalets. And then it began to rain. Hard. And then hail. In July. It was 40 degrees outside. Two days ago we had the air on at all times and now we had to turn the heat on! I was amazed that anyone would want to live where your heater needed to be on at the peak of summer. It was beautiful. Cold, but beautiful. We continued our drive over the pass and saw old mines, railroad tracks, tourist stops and the county line of Jefferson, one county over from Denver. We’d made it! The rain came back as we hit the city. The traffic started to slow. We were already slow due to the extra 10,000 pounds we were hauling. I was taking pictures of road signs and the skyline for scrapbooking purposes. And then the traffic came to a screeching halt. And so did we. Right after we bumped into the lady in front of us. D’oh! The lady immediately gets out of her car, throws her hands up and basically asks what our problem is. Bill apologizes, explains we’ve got this huge car we’re lugging around and asks if she’s ok. She says she’s fine but she’s mad because this is the third accident she’s been in. Bill then gets on the phone to call the cops and our insurance. We’re all fine. The kids and the cats are fine. We were maybe going 5 mph when it happened. Then the lady starts to plot. She’s rubbing her head and asks if we have water because “she thinks she needs to throw up”. The police come and do their thing. They ask if we need medical care. No. Then they go over to her. Then the ambulance shows up. I see them put her in a neck brace after talking to her for a while. They put a pressure cuff on her arm and get out a stethoscope. After a few more minutes, the gurney comes out.

PAUSE: In 2005, I was in a major collision. My car was totaled. The only reason we needed to go to the hospital was to get the glass out of Leah’s head and face that splashed on her from the impact. We barely bumped this lady. What is she doing??!

The EMT kept coming over to us to make sure we were ok. After a half hour or more, the neck brace came off, the gurney went away and the EMT’s were smiling and rolling their eyes towards us as if to make an unofficial statement that this lady was a little loose in the head. They wished us luck and went on their way. Crazy lady drove off. Mr. Police officer apologized that he had to write us a ticket and thanked Bill for his service to our country. What a welcome to Denver. I really hope this crazy accident lady doesn’t do anything stupid. I’d hate to have to waste our time in court over a fender bender.

After that wonderful experience we got all checked in to our extend stay hotel and tried to find some way to make it home for the next month? Two months? Dare I say…three months? Two queen beds, a cooktop with two electric (yuck) burners and a microwave. No oven. Oh, a single basin sink. And a bathroom. Free wifi. Woohoo! Crazy cable lineup. Boo. Not perfect, but workable. We call our realtor and let her know we’re in town and set up an appointment to meet the next day.

After dinner, I sit down to scroll through pictures I’ve taken along the way and realize something. As I was taking shots of the city for my hobby, I managed to get two pictures of crazy lady’s car as I was trying to get a good shot of the highway signs. The damage to her bumper that we thought we caused, was already there! I have proof that we did not break her car. Ha! I’m so smart, and I didn’t even know it.

Part 2 coming soon.

Calm Before the Storm

2009-08-01T20:41:00.000-06:00

**This post was written about three weeks ago. I'll get up to speed eventually. I hope**

Forest Home. Our second trip to this retreat in the San Bernardino mountains. So, we’re in the middle of moving, why not plan a family vacation in the midst of it? Makes perfect sense to me. Even though we’d only been here one other time, it was like returning to a spot you’d been hundreds of times before. Everything was familiar. We paid a little extra and upgraded our room this year. Gooood decision. We actually have storage which may not seem like a very big deal for a week long family vacation, but when you’re already living out of suitcases and will be for at least another month, being able to unpack is heavenly. Oh, and then there’s the thing where we don’t have to share a very small bathroom with another family. Yeah, that was actually the deal maker for me. It’s one thing to have to share one bathroom with three other members of your family, but throw in some other group and everything that goes along with it? Awkward!

Our cabin (on the right side)

The view from our front porch

So we brought along our own child care person which the camp will normally provide for you free of charge because every night the parents get a chance to get away from their kids and the kids get a chance to get away from their parents. I thought it would be more fun for my kids to hang out in the evenings with someone they already know. As I dropped our sitter off at her cabin, I told her counselor to be sure to take good care of her. I’d hate to drag her all the way up the mountain and just leave her there to fend for herself, which it felt like I was doing. Apparently, I look enough like her (she’s a strawberry blonde with blue eyes, I’m a chestnut brunette with brown eyes) and old enough (I’m 17 years older) that they thought I was her mom. !!! I’m sort of insulted. Now I know that teenagers are horrible at the age game and I guess I could technically be her mom if I was a high school pregnancy case, but do I really look old enough to have a teenager??!

Ok, back on track. Part of the Forest Home tradition is to have Family Lake Day on the Wednesday of the week you attend camp. It was the perfect day after three days of 90ish clear weather. Finally, we’d had a break and it got down to about 80 with a bit of cloud cover. We got to the lake and set up our spot. We watched some of the relay races and I took pictures of our team as they flew through the obstacles of the race. We only had two more groups to go before lunch which was highly anticipated to the group of us hungry campers. And then it started to sprinkle. And then a bit more. And then the wind started to blow. And then it started to whip and the sprinkles turned into raindrops. Excuse me, but I thought this was July in Southern California. See, we don’t do that here. It got so bad that the food service people could not do their job and had to pack it up and take our picnic back to the main camp and we had to shut down family lake day! It was funny in a can-you-believe-this sort of way. We loaded the SUV back up and took the short trek back to camp while the servers and other kitchen staff set up the same lunch a second time. And the sun came out. My explanation? Leeches. There must’ve been leeches in the water and that’s why God made it rain at a church function at the lake.

After lunch, Bill and I took the kids to the pool since they were jipped out of their chance at the trampoline in the lake and “the blob”. The pool had been temporarily closed due to thunder so we waited until we got the all clear sign. And it started to rain. We sat in lounge chairs in the warm mountain air and were rained on. We listened to the blue jays squawk and the chipmunks chatter behind us until my little fish were able to show off their new talents they learned in swim lessons last week.

Yes, I am still up in the mountains as I write, but there is no internet, cable, or cell available so I sit on my laptop and type out memories in between games of Mahjong and Solitaire while my family naps in the cabin before the next activity. We arrived Sunday evening and have been going at a crazy pace since we’ve arrived. My kids have climbed rock walls, flown down zip lines (twice), gone trout fishing, swimming twice, done arts and crafts, miniature golf for the last three evenings and walked more steps than they’ve probably walked at home in a month. It’s been a great start to this crazy new chapter of life we’re just beginning to write. I hope they look back at this as a wonderful part of their young childhood.

Leah waiting on the platform of the zip line

There she goes! Trey is just ahead of her.

Trey starts up the rock wall

Leah OWNING the rock wall.

Our little family on the second to last day of camp. You can't tell, but there were thunderstorms going on all around us at this time. We were smart and stood under the tallest tree.

Bill and I and our friends who spent the week with us.

This is what happens when you try and take a picture of all the kids.

This blog

2009-07-09T11:16:00.000-06:00

is interupted due to some major transformations going on right now. Much too messy and hectic to type up in one post with not enough time to do the necessary things, let alone the optional things. Posts will be coming. I will have lots of free time soon. LOTS.

Lazy days of...Spring?

2009-04-18T10:08:00.000-06:00

Knowing that my time here at home is quickly running out, I’m trying to soak up as many of my favorite things to do as possible. Yesterday was Trey’s last day of spring break, Leah didn’t have school and I was off from work. The weather was warm and beautiful so I decided to take the kids to the beach for a day of playing in the sand and sun. This morning, there’s a picture on the back page of the paper displaying beautiful pink tulips in Denver…covered in a fresh layer of snow. SNOW! Don’t they know it’s April?? Flights cancelled, schools closed, chaos.

Did I mention we went to the beach?

By this time next year my blog posts will read, “Jen complains about the weather. Again.”

Spring Break!

2009-04-13T10:24:00.000-06:00

Ahhh, first day of Spring Break. Wait. I don’t mean ‘ahhh’, I meant to say AAAACK!!!! A whole week with one antsy kid and no set plans. I’d better get to searching for things to do. First things first though. Blogging. Yes, I have my priorities straight thankyouverymuch.

We did something very untraditional yesterday: we went to a non-family member’s for Easter and it was apparently so much fun that I took more than 160 pictures. Thank goodness for digital or I would have been out quite a bit of money for film. There were 12 kids and an onslaught of adults. We ate and talked and the kids ran around, enjoying the bunnies and all the fun that our lovely hostess’s yard had to offer.

Of course there was an egg hunt. The kids were aged two to thirteen so the Easter Bunny had to get creative. After going through their loot it was time for the next obvious activity…squirt gun fight! What? Were you thinking of something else? The moms were armed shortly thereafter. It would be silly to be in the midst of a battle without a weapon, don’t you think? Our secret weapon was my mom. No one expected ‘a grandma’ to get involved. All is fair in love and war! When the moms were done being attacked by little munchkins, we sent in the reserve troops. The dads and uncles.

The kids surrendered after a short fight.

It’s good to stir up tradition every once in a while. Say a prayer for me as I head into my next battle: Spring Break for one kid, school for another and a regular work week for me with a kid in tow.

You Could Still Use That!

2009-03-16T10:12:00.000-06:00

My mom is the child of depression-era parents. This means she learned from a very young age to not waste anything, to look for new uses for old things and to hang on to anything that might have a use down the line. This sounds like I’m setting her up for one of those horrible hoarding stories. I’m not. I’m setting her up so I can make fun of her.

Each Sunday my family heads on over to my mom’s place for dinner. I get to chat with one of my closest friends, Bill gets to watch whatever game is on tv and the kids get to play with a different set of toys that are reserved for grandma’s house. With my grown up eyes, I like to look at things that were around my house when I was a kid that were just there. When you’re a child, you’re not too concerned with the items in the house unless they expressly belong to you and there’s a threat of that changing. I’ve looked through old cookbooks that are faded and torn,

(not my mom's, but she has the same one)

laughed at the funky prints on the oven mitts from the 1960’s and asked my mom to PLEASE get rid of the washcloths she received at her wedding. Well, you know, they still make good dusting rags. The most fun I have is when I go through the lazy susan in the pantry. There’s all kinds of good, laugh worthy products on that big plastic disk. Usually I’ll find a few items with price stickers on them. “What’s wrong with that?” my mother asks. Well mom, no one uses stickers to label groceries anymore and certainly not at 19¢. I’ve come across a four pack of food coloring. There’s nothing too hilarious about that except that when I opened the box, I found that all the bottles were glass and the food coloring had been reduced to colored powder. Did she dispose of it? No. Why? Because you can just add a little water and it’ll be good as new. Psst! Don’t eat the blue cupcakes if you come to visit.

Last night was just too funny for me. I opened the pantry and asked, “Hmm, what can I find that’s funny in here tonight?” Of course my mom rolled her eyes at me and mocked me, surely thinking that I’ll be in her spot one day with my own kids laughing at my expense. I spun the lazy susan around and came across a bottle of colored sprinkles, er, sort of. “Mom! Seriously. WHAT are you going to decorate with these?? A cupcake?” She started to defend herself and then couldn’t do it with a straight face and began to laugh at herself. There was maybe a quarter of a teaspoon of what used to be pastel colored sprinkles. However, they were almost all white, having faded over time and they’d SHRUNK! The only thing left was the center of the sprinkle. That was the only item I’ve been able to convince her to toss out. But wait! There’s more! She only threw the sprinkles in the trash. She saved the glass bottle for recycling. You know, because it can be used for something else!

Riding the Crazy Train

2009-01-16T09:49:00.000-07:00

Being a ~~girl~~ (woman? Sounds too formal) chick married to a guy in the armed forces, I hear one statement more than any other: “I don’t know how you do it”. Well, it’s not like we get a booklet or anything. Oh wait, we do, but that’s not my point. I don’t know how we do it either. It’s just one of those things. If you watched a woman giving birth before you’d ever had kids, you say the same thing. Then you get pregnant and have that baby and you realize that you just get through it. You enjoy the not so painful part and bear down and grit your teeth through the awful parts.

Yesterday I experienced a day that made ME say, “I don’t know how YOU do it”. Yeah, you. The working mom. Ok, so I work but it’s very part time. How do people work a 40 hour work week and then come home and take care of everything else? I worked from nine to five yesterday on a project that needs to be D-U-N (which still isn’t, so I have to go in today…on my day off) and the thought of coming home to make dinner, finish homework and have quality time with my kids made me want to laugh and cry at the same time! There is no way I could do that five days a week. Add that and all of the extracurriculars between my two kids and my husband and you have a woman who needs a) xanax and lots of it b) wine and lots of it c) to be committed to a mental institution or d) all of the above.

So just for fun I’ve decided to record my crazy busy week this week so one day when my kids are out of the house and my husband and I are just sitting on the couch looking at each other I can refer to this and be grateful I was once young and insane.

Monday was pretty normal. Nothing big on the to-do list. Oh wait, maybe there was something. Oh yeah, clean the house. Oops. Missed that one. Leah and I went to Costco instead. MUCH more fun.

Tuesday. The beginning of the crazy week.
8am: out of the house
9-2: work
3: get Trey from school
3:30: leave for hip hop (for Trey, not me)
4-4:45: Trey’s hip hop class
5: get Leah from preschool
5:30: home again, jiggity jig.
6-9: dinner, homework, showers and a last minute friend-date at Starbucks

Wednesday
8am: out of the house
9-12: work
12:25: get Trey from school (stupid minimum day every Wednesday) and then rush home and grab something to eat
1-2:30: park for Trey with his buds
4:30: leave to get Leah from school
5:00: change Leah into her ballet attire while still at school
5:30-6:15: Leah’s dance class and Trey does homework while we wait at the studio
6:30-8:30: dinner at church (thanks to the hubby running through Burger King for us—and I got to see him for the two minutes it took him to divvy out the food), small group and Bill has rehearsal for a shindig the next night.
9: home and bedtime for the kids.

Thursday
8am: out of the house
9-5: work (but I had to beg Bill to leave his work early to pick up the kids so I could try and finish my project)
5:30: home and say goodbye to Bill. He had to leave for church for one last rehearsal
6:30: the kids and I leave for church for our farewell to Fallon party. A friend of ours is leaving for Australia to attend school and we had a big concert for her.
10: get home. I make myself some dinner. Put Trey to bed. Realize something’s not right with Leah and take her temperature. 101.9 Great. Inject Tylenol into her mouth and let her rest on the overstuffed chair.
10:30: Put Leah to bed.
Midnight: lights out.

Today. Yeah. I need to run into work, grab my prescription, wrap birthday presents, get Trey and somehow work on my neglected house. Today is my mom’s birthday and Sunday is Bill’s. I have a kid with a sore throat and one who was hit in the mouth yesterday with a soccer ball leaving him grotesquely injured. It could be fixed with one yank, but for some reason the kid is terrified of pulling his own tooth out.

GOOOOOO ME! Thankfully Monday is a holiday. Maybe I can clean my house then?

Merry Day After

2008-12-26T14:17:00.000-07:00

It’s still mind-boggling to me that in one day, the hustle and bustle, build up and anticipation can be over. It’s the day after Christmas. All the presents are unwrapped, the food is sealed up tight in the refrigerator, the Christmas linens were lovingly used and now require a bath before they’re stored for next year. My kids have been entertained without my help all morning thanks to new toys and books. I’ve washed the china and the crystal goblets. The roasting pan and stove still cry out for my attention. It’s a beautiful clear day following the day long rain we watched yesterday. What a magical time December is.

We usually follow a tradition that’s been going on since the mid-80s in my family. Due to someone not wanting to participate at our normally scheduled time (psh) we changed things up a bit. We had Christmas Eve at my mom’s house with a few orphans. Not real orphans, but orphans in the sense that they really had no where to go and nothing fancy to eat so they were brought in to have dinner with us. We ate and played games and drank wine and ate some more. It was probably better than our tradition would have been had we stayed on track. I’m not one to invite people over at the spur of the moment. It’s just not my thing, although I wish it was, but my mouth moved quicker than my brain could stop it. It was the right thing to do, especially during the season.

The day before Christmas Eve, we bundled the kids up and everyone hopped in the car for a quick drive through Starbucks. Peppermint mochas for Bill and I and ‘kid coffee’ (hot chocolate) for Trey and Leah. While we sipped, we toured the neighborhoods looking at Christmas light and decorations. We spent an hour oohing and ahhing (and sometimes harshly judging) others’ ideas of decorating. I wish more people had their blinds open so I could see how they decorated the inside! Yes, I’m a home voyeur and I freely admit it.

I’m so happy to have my little family of four here at Christmas. Fortunately, I’ve only had to spend Christmas without my husband once while he was deployed to Japan. My cousin took him in while we celebrated up north with other family. I’m looking forward to next Christmas already. We’ll most likely have a white Christmas, we’ll definitely be in a different home, and we’ll have lots of overnight guests to keep us company. I love tradition paired with a little something new now and then.

2008-12-15T12:34:00.000-07:00

In the midst of Christmas parties, performances and celebrations, my office has a yearly tradition: the White Elephant. Don’t know what the White Elephant game is?? Look here. Some people are nice and bring useful things, gift cards or something that maybe they don’t like but someone else most certainly would. Not us. Working for a youth pastor and the rest of the youth staff includes much sarcasm and prank pulling.

One year, the prized possession most fought for was a Snickers bar. The next year it was a giant stuffed Cookie Monster. This year, the most memorable gift was not the most sought after. One of the guys at the party was second in line to pick a gift from under the tree. He asks his buddy if the blue package he’d picked out was the right one. What? You can’t do that. No baiting the choice of the gift opener! After he’d opened his prize, it was completely obvious why he was led to open his gift.

The paper comes off and inside is a package with one pair of tightie whities. As if that weren’t funny enough, “Balls of Fury” was printed on the crotch in bright red. Mark* opened the package, held them up and revealed the size 42s and loudly read the undies, “Balls of Fury!” That sent everyone over the edge. It’s funny on its own, but we’re at a work party. Not just a regular work party, but we all work at a church. He can’t stop there and proceeds to put them on over his jeans.

As we’re sitting on couches and chairs, it’s so very obvious that Mark is sitting at a higher elevation than the rest as he’s on a bar chair and any time anyone looks in his general direction, “Balls of Fury” is yelling at you and you can’t help but stare at his crotch.

Somehow in the game, my boss is next in line to receive these opened goodies and Mark peels them off. It’s hard to not imagine him doing this as part of his normal routine. My boss hesitantly receives them and then places them on his head.

The one who brought the offending gift ended up opening an old flight suit and proclaimed that he’d received a onesie. That was quickly stolen by one of the other guys in the group. The thief of the ‘onesie’ happened to have his wife at the party as well. Guess what she wanted to steal? The balls of fury underwear. She proceeds to put them on over her jeans and parade around for all to see.

Then the inappropriateness started. Kim’s* husband, the one with the flight suit started with the comments about what they would be doing later than night…

…

He said he’d play Top Gun and she could be Captain Underpants. Wow. I never really wanted to know that. Now you’re in the know as well!

This was definitely one of the more memorable White Elephant exchanges I’d been to. Being married to a Marine, I’ve seen way more inappropriate gifts given and stolen, but it made my day!

Here's the actual crew I work with every day!

The Rubix Cube? Oh, I have no idea. I mean, look at his hair. It explains so much!

*Names have been changed to protect ME from random google searches by these people.

Quick Recap

2008-11-26T09:33:00.001-07:00

of everything we've done in between my freak out sessions and trying to get used to the idea of leaving home:

We made Halloween cookies, a yearly tradition.

It was exhausting:

We went to the pumpkin patch! We didn't have to settle for Albertson's this year. ;)

We went Trick or Treating with friends:

(Bumble bee, Darth Vader, Sleeping Beauty before hair and makeup and a skeleton)

Bill and I got away on an overnight vacation to our favorite spot:

And then we attended the Marine Corps Ball, celebrating the Marines' 233rd birthday:

And we finally got an updated family photo!

Other than that, it's been scrapbooking, laundry, cleaning, shopping and getting ready for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Oh, and googling. Lots and lots of googling with the word 'Colorado' somewhere in there.

Upside Down

2008-11-21T10:05:00.001-07:00

I feel like I could write a novel. My life in the last month has been turned over and flipped inside out and there’s so much to write. I’ll try to make it to the point so I don’t lose whatever readers I have in the process.

My husband came home from his third tour of duty in Iraq. Yay! It was really cool to see him come home this time (well, it always is) because I got to watch him walk down the steps of the plane instead of waiting for the big white bus full of other Marines to bring him home. It was a special circumstance that isn’t interesting unless you’re military. My kids were with me this time, we were finally able to grab him after about an hour and we headed out to our first meal as a family in seven months. The waiter found out where he’d just come from and comped his meal. How cool is that? That’s never happened to us before.**

On day eight of Bill being home we got some news. I had one whole week of not being completely stressed and overwhelmed before I turned around and got hit with a healthy dose of panic. Bill called on his way home from work that day and said we needed to talk. That’s never good. When I asked why, he told me not to worry, he wasn’t in trouble. I then asked if it had anything to do with moving. His answer? Yes. I got really quiet as all the muscles in my neck tightened and my ears started ringing. I couldn’t speak. He answered my question for me and told me that one of his bosses asked, “What would you think of going to Georgia?”

So here’s the thing. Bill is three and a half years away from retirement. Our housing market has crashed. I just got a raise at work. Add those things together and it equals finally being able to buy a home. We were going to do that in the spring. I have been house hunting for over two years, watching prices and locations and so on. I’ve been reconnected to friends I haven’t seen in years, I’ve built a new friendship over the course of three years and things were starting to look like they had a direction to them. Moving wasn’t part of that equation.

So guess what I did? I FREAKED OUT. I’m a little OCD so after crying and pleading and begging God to not send us I started researching. I kinda have to know what I’m getting into so I looked at schools and houses and churches and stores and restaurants and things to do and I still wasn’t happy. I mean, I’m sure Georgia is nice and all but I never wanted to live there.

The stupid Marine Corps totally ruined my reunion with my husband. Instead of being reconnected as a family and a couple and having fun I was stressing out with the news and getting stomachaches and headaches and having random panic attacks in Target.

After talking with a bunch of people and doing more research I saw that the base we’d be headed to (outside Atlanta) would be closing in 2010 and moving down to Macon. So I’d have to move not once, but twice, in a foreign state. I’m the worst military wife ever. I want to stay in one place my entire life. We’ve been in this house for five years already. Some people love to move. Guess I’m boring. I love routine. I grow deep roots. The last time the military moved us out of state it was just Bill and I and our eleven months of marriage-acquired-possessions. Now we’ve added two cats, two kids and a whole heckuva lot more stuff than would fit in a one bedroom apartment. I remember when the movers came the first time. They number your boxes. All of our possessions fit into 60 boxes. Sixty. I think I have sixty boxes of Christmas decorations now.

Well, then everything changed. Someone else had filled that spot. My husband had been telling everyone he could at work that he is married to a crazy lady who is digging her nails into her home soil and screaming curses on Uncle Sam. His monitor (the guy who decides where we go) gave us another option. The good? It’s not Georgia. The bad? It’s not here. The unknown emotion? It’s Colorado. Hm. Colorado. We drove through Colorado on our way back home after living in Virginia for a short time. Beautiful, yes. Beaches on the Pacific? None. Not good. Snow? Yep. Um…I don’t know how to live in snow. Snow is something we drive to for a day trip. Oh, and my friends and family don’t live in Colorado, they live here in San Diego. Well, most of them. And then there’s my job.

On the flip side, I’ve heard nothing negative about Colorado and those who’ve lived there say they’d go back in a heartbeat. We’d be at an Air Force base which means if we got into housing, it would actually be decent instead of the horrible housing we’ve lived in twice before while on Marine bases. It’s a 15 hour drive from here. A two or three hour plane ride. It’s for two and a half years. I’m doing my Lamaze breathing. Chanting. Putting my thumb and middle fingers together and saying, ‘ooohhhhmmmmm’ to take me to my happy place.

Housing is cheap…I mean inexpensive. Of course, I’d think that about almost anyway compared to here, I’m sure. Should we buy and then sell or rent when he retires? We have to make all new friends. And buy things like long underwear and boots and…I can hardly say it…an ice scraper for the car. And the worse thing? There is NO Ikea in the ENTIRE state of Colorado. What is that all about??

Both my kids will be in school in the fall. Leah is starting kindergarten. What in the world and I going to do during the day??? I’ve been working since 2005 at my job. I’m not used to that much free time.

What will I call my blog? Snowy Eggo? Doesn’t have the same ring to it. ‘Just trying to get back to Sandy Eggo’? ‘The stupid military moved me away from everyone I love and all I got was this blog’? I don’t now.

This post doesn’t even include all the fun stuff we’ve been doing. Guess that will have to wait for another day. If you have any insights or advice for living in Colorado, let me know.

**See? I'm so freaking out that I totally forgot that I already posted that. I swear, I'm losing brain cells and acquiring wrinkles.

Reunited

2008-10-27T10:15:00.000-06:00

On March 13, 2008 the love of my life left me. Ok, so it’s not as soap opera-ey as it sounds. My husband had to get on a plane and fly to the other side of the world AGAIN. He was deploying to Iraq for tour number three. THREE! This was deployment number four since 2003 but one of those was to Japan which was great for him, hard for me. Anywhoooo, after being told he’d be home mid-September and then, nope, not till after October 1st, well, maybe the 10th, no, the 15th…well how bout the 20th? No, the 21st…he finally came home. Oh, did I mention in previous posts that I hate not knowing what’s going on? I know this is God’s way of letting me know He’s in control but I’m still the type of girl who has an obsession with calendars and dayplanners and knowing what’s going on when, in color coordination, please.

Usually homecoming involves a homecoming brief for all of the spouses going over when they’re getting back, what to expect as far as PTSD, strange habits like preferring to sleep on the hard floor over the soft mattress, not controlling their ‘boy’ tendencies since they’ve been around ‘boys’ for so long (i.e. not using their manners when it comes to body functions…ahem), and a fear of crowds. They also talk about what NOT to wear. Don’t dress like a stripper, save that for home. Make sure your skirt is long enough so that when you go to hug him, it doesn’t ride up and show the world what’s going on underneath. No trench coats: we all know what’s under there…or not. Things like that. Well, this was my fourth homecoming and he was coming home without the rest of his unit which is staying until January so I didn’t attend a briefing. I wasn’t part of a huge crowd of wives and kids dressed in their best awaiting the big white bus. I actually got elite treatment and was able to drive up to March to pick my husband up. The rest of the guys on his plane were actually headed to a different base and he just happened to hitch a ride on their flight. The kids and I got to watch Bill actually depart the plane and walk down to the tarmac. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to take pictures of that. I was clearly warned that if I was caught taking photos (since it’s a government airstrip or something like that) they would confiscate my camera. Didn’t they know I needed to scrapbook this momentous occasion? We were so excited to see him, and amazingly, I could pick him out of the sea of desert cammie tan boys walking down the steps of the plane. He motioned that he needed to go through processing on the other side and as I got ready to walk over there, I noticed Trey was lagging behind. He was crying! “What’s the matter, Trey? Why are you crying?”
“I’m just so happy daddy’s home!”
Wow, my seven year old is crying tears of joy!

It took a while before he could actually depart the iron bars and Marines holding everyone back from where a handful of us were waiting.

When he finally came out, my kids had run to the other side of the parking lot, too overwhelmed to deal with their emotions. That was the best hug I’d had in seven months.

It’s amazing to see your best friend again after such a long separation. I finally coerced the kids out of hiding. Leah didn’t say anything but squeezed her daddy as tight as she could all the while showing a huge smile on her face.

Trey was a little more apprehensive, but once he came over he made all kinds of noise and gave his dad a huge embrace.

We were finally a family of four again.

It’s become tradition that I bring Bill and ice cold beer when he returns home. Spending seven months in an Islamic country means no alcohol so a cold beer is heaven to most guys returning.

After we said our hellos and thank yous and shook a few hands of other Marines,

we headed down to Temecula for some lunch. The kids and I went in first while Bill stayed in the car to change into civilian clothes. The waiter came by and clarified that we had another joining us. I explained that my husband just returned from Iraq and was changing out of his cammies. The waiter responded with, “oh good, because we don’t allow anyone with cammies in the restaurant.” He was joking, of course, but it’s against strict rules for Marines to wear their camouflage into any civilian arenas. Once we were done with our meal, our waiter came over and thanked Bill for his sacrifice and service to our country and comped his meal! That’s something we never get at home. Just being in the next county made a world of difference. I guess it’s a little hard to be overly thankful for someone’s service when you’re living next to one of the largest Marine Corps bases in the country. We get royal treatment everywhere but at home.

Once we got home, Bill found his welcome home sign that I’d worked on for about a week. It’s tradition to have a sign waiting for him. This one was definitely my biggest work of art.

Now, we’re just enjoying being a family again. I’m loving that I have my partner back, my help mate, my best friend. The kids love having two parents and a mom who is a lot less stressed out. Thank God he made it home safely and we’re back together, like peas and carrots.

Fall Weather

2008-10-14T15:47:00.000-06:00

It’s ~~snow~~, er, fire season! We had a moderate fire last Wednesday and then I noticed one starting yesterday as I picked Trey up from school. Leah says, “another fi-yar?!” Guess so. This time, however, the smoke was black. Way darker than normal.

Trey saw the smoke and said, "Aww, mom, I don't want to get our pumpkin from the store this year! I want to go to the pumpkin patch!" We had to skip our yearly tradition last year because the fires caused the air quality to be so poor for the whole county and ended up at Albertson's 'pumpkin patch'. Poor kid. We came home, did our routine thing and I went outside to watch it. My eyes started running because of the force of the wind, and it even managed to push me hard enough that I had to readjust my stance. Then I noticed the planes; the super scooper planes that flew back and forth between the Pacific and the fire and dumped hundreds of gallons of water on the flames. The wind continued, the flames spread and we suddenly had extra traffic on our street trying to get a view of the spectacle. I even noticed a passenger with her video camera hanging out the window and she was smiling at all the excitement. Yeah, really entertaining!

This photo was snagged from the local news website:

I’d move back and forth between the back yard and keeping an eye on the fire and coming in the house to pull pictures off the walls, get important papers together, old journals and a change of clothes in case we needed to leave the house. Within five minutes, one of the fires spread a half mile up the ridgeline of the hill less than a mile away. Fortunately, the wind shifted at the right time and started to move west instead of directly toward us.

Quickly moving west

View from my back yard

View from my front yard

The fire continued to burn into the night and the rest of this hill is now scorched black. All of the greenery below is part of a nature preserve. CalFires did an awesome job and made sure everyone was safe.

Fortunately, this fire is no longer a threat, but the month is young! We got an automated phone call from the school district last night notifying us that Trey's school would be closed today. I figured this must be what it's like to get notification that the school is having a snow day, but way less fun.

Good times!

Totally Random & HEY! is that Big Bird?

2008-09-07T09:31:00.000-06:00

I am, apparently, losing my mind. For one, this blog post will be so random, you won’t be able to tell which way the turn is coming up. Second, I’m forgetting things. Normal things. Not things like the capital of Vermont or what the current price of a stamp is. What is it again? I forgot to give Leah breakfast. We dropped Trey off at school and about ten minutes before we were to reach the preschool, she says from the backseat, “mom, I’m sitting here quietly, waiting for my breakfast.” Oh no!! Fortunately I had a granola bar and a bottle of water with me to take to work. That became her morning meal. A few weeks ago, I had to run to Costco for a few essentials. I stepped out of the car and noticed I had on two different flip flops. Oh yes. I did. One black, one brown. Now, my husbands 90-something year old grandma did something similar. She walked out of her apartment with two different navy blue shoes but she was 90 something!!!! I was super self conscious the whole time I walked through the store and was so glad I was at least wearing cargo pants and not shorts. Yes, I considered going back home to fix my shoes, but at $3.80 a gallon for gas in a huge SUV I decided to be eccentric instead of wasteful. The worst part? I had to go back and look to see if I’d already posted this story. Lastly, apparently I’ve forgotten a HUGE event. Did you know I had a baby? ME EITHER! But apparently I have because I keep getting things in the mail about my new baby, and congratulations, and coupons for formula and diapers and baby life insurance. Weird.

******

Leah has entered the world of living as an animal. Every day she is something other than a human. She is either a cat whose name is Autumn, no wait, Princess, um, how about going between the two constantly because she can’t make up her mind. And then she meows. And she talks in meows and has to translate. Then she expects me to do the same things to her, that I do to the cats including rubbing my fingers together to get our actual cat Autumn, to stand on her hind legs and reach up for me. When she’s not a cat, she’s a dog. Lollipop the dog. And she wants to play fetch. With markers. All the stinkin’ time. I give in, because I know her little brain is just working away and this is normal but sometimes she just needs to be Leah. She and I had to go grocery shopping the other day and while sitting in the cart she told me she was sick. A sick cow. I looked at her a little cockeyed because this was a new sentence. She then said, “cough, cough, cough, mooooooo.” It was so out in left field I had to laugh. She then proceeded to be other animals that were sick. A dog, a cat, a horse, a sheep. I really wonder where she pulls these things from, it’s definitely not from Trey.

******

I think part of problem with losing my mind is that I’m living in Dante’s Inferno. You know, where every time you think you’re getting close to the end, you get pushed back to the beginning? When Bill left, he was supposed to be on a six month deployment. His original return date was September 15th. Ok, no problem. Well, there’s this guy who thinks he is the Marine Corps god and decided to make our family’s life harder and keep Bill out past the first of October for fiscal year reasons. Ok, I dealt with that. It’s a little long to explain, but it has to do with reenlistments and paperwork and deadlines, etc. Saying that, Bill is perfectly capable of doing all of this work he’s doing out there—from here. Do you know how many people have asked me why he’s actually there? They find out what his job is and can’t imagine why he’s there in the first place. In the famous words of Monica from Friends, “I KNOW!” Anyway, that moved our return date back a bit. Then….THEN I get an email telling me that this same self-named Marine Corps deity has decided that Bill will not be coming home on the date he said he could earlier, but has to wait again, for another flight out a week later. This man is just a big ole meanie! He’s power trippin’ and I hope that when he joins the civilian work force, his boss is a big ole meanie to him, too. Immature? Perhaps, but karma gets ya every time.

******

So I’m tying up this post by saying…I can’t remember what else I was going to write about. I know there were other things, but I have lost my mind. It’s on vacation without me and I’m here trying to take care of my two kids by myself for the umpteenth time. Yep, if you add up all of Bill’s deployments from the start of this war, I’ve been doing it alone for two years. TWO YEARS! Ok, I’m off to get more coffee and get ready for church. Oh, and read the paper. That always makes me realize my life is pretty great.

Labor Day

2008-09-01T11:06:00.000-06:00

I’m stealing this meme from Judy. You can go see her answers and the origin of this true Labor Day meme over at Where One Day Runs Into Another

How long were your labors?
Trey - 19 hours. Not the best day and a half I can recall
Leah – I’m not actually sure. It sounds bad, but it’s true. I think I was in the hospital with her around 2pm and she decided to show up not long after midnight.

How did you know you were in labor?
Trey - I wasn’t sure I was having contractions. I had to call my mom and she couldn’t remember hers. They started coming every 15 mins so I was pretty sure that this was the day.
Leah – I didn’t. I went in for a scheduled appt, told my midwife that I dreamt that I was checked by a different midwife and said I was at 5. My actual midwife got all excited and decided to check me and lo and behold…I was at 5. Weird, huh? She told us to go walk for an hour, but we had to come home and pack instead.

Where did you deliver?
At the hospital, both times.

Drugs?
Trey – I thought I would be able to make it without. I got to 7 when I was exhausted and couldn’t take it anymore so I got an epidural which was pointless because it didn’t work anyway.
Leah – I decided I wouldn’t torture myself and as soon as the anesthesiologist came around, I caught him and made him my best friend.

C-section?
Nope. Trey should have been though. He weighed in over 9 pounds.

Who delivered?
Trey – see, the thing with military is that you get who you get. I didn’t get my midwife because her shift was over so I got some dude who should not be around women—ever.
Leah – cutest doctor in history. Of course.

I'm...Too Sexy for my....

2008-08-30T11:12:00.000-06:00

One of my new-found favorite websites. Suddenly, your school portraits don't seem so cringe worthy.

1st Day Jitters

2008-08-25T20:34:00.000-06:00

Today Trey entered into the beginning of the rest of his life. He started first grade. I’ve been talking this up to him for weeks, trying to get him excited about school. I was always answered with, “I don’t wanna go to first graaaaaade—uh.” What a way to begin your academic career. I figured we’d at least get to fourth grade before he decided school wasn’t fun. To counteract any negative thoughts about the end of summer, he and I spent the whole week last week doing fun things involving milk shakes and picking out school supplies, a playdate or two and a slurpee. How fun is that? My favorite day was the shopping, and even though it all involved buying things for him, he didn’t think it was that great. Male DNA: I’ll never get it.

This morning he woke up and got out of bed right when his alarm went off. He started doing the things on his chart that need to get done before it’s time for school. He was so excited. Breakfast: check Teeth brushed: check Bed made: check Hair, shoes, backpack, lunch: check check check check. He was ready to leave a half hour before we needed to walk out the door. I had to keep reminding him it wasn’t time to go yet.

(don't mind the pink background, my camera decided to misbehave this morning. The walls are actually white)

Finally, we got in the car and drove down to his school. We walked the path we walked last year for kindergarten. He pointed out his teacher to me (after recognizing him from his yearbook from last year) and then it hit him: utter and total fear. He went from walking next to me to clinging to the back of me and hiding his face in my side. His teacher tried talking to him. No dice. We walked, connected, like some human-giraffe out to the playground to look for friends from last year. We saw a few but he wasn’t interested in leaving the comfort of my waist. I figured the one person to get him detached would be his kindergarten girlfriend, Sophia. Oh yes, girlfriend. They’ve proclaimed their love for each other and have agreed that they will be married when they grow up. I saw her first and once I caught her eye, I waved at her and she came rushing over to hug Trey. A little girlfriend of hers was with her. Trey didn’t say anything comprehensible to Sophia, just whines and grunts. Typical man. She planted a big kiss on his cheek and when Sophia’s little friend scrunched her nose and asked if she loved him, Sophia proudly said, “YES!” Well, that wasn’t enough for Trey. He still didn’t detach, Sophia got impatient and ran off to the swings and here I am, stuck, with a very tall six year old with arms wrapped around me and a little four year old who is enduring the silliness before her.

The bell rings, it’s time to line up and Trey does not want any part of it if it includes being solo. I stand in line with him. He notices some people on all four sides of him that he’s comfortable with. I step out of line and back with the other parents. His teacher tells the kids it’s time to come inside. Trey bolts out of line, tears bursting from his eyes, and completely sobbing into my shirt. I walk with him to the classroom and the teacher has to pry him off me and saying, “it’s ok mom, he’ll be fine.”

I was shocked! This child has been in new situations constantly throughout his life! Different nursery workers at church, preschool teachers, different babysitters and he’s already finished kindergarten. I felt so anxious for him, wondering how he was doing, or better yet, how the teacher was doing. To kill time, Leah and I did what all girls do best when together: we went shoe shopping! Hey, Payless is having a BOGO and she needed new ballet and tap shoes. Oh, and I got a sweet pair of American Eagle shoes for $4!!

Anyway, I noticed myself watching the clock all day, figuring out when we could leave, how much more time, is it almost a quarter to three, is it time to go yet…? I picked him up, he was smiling, he was saying goodbye to his new and old friends and had a great day. Poor thing worked himself up thinking he was going to have to solve the quadratic equation and memorize the table of elements without any familiar faces. Instead, he got to do things that were familiar, with a new teacher and realized that first grade really isn’t so scary.

Makes me wonder what junior high will be like…

Didn't See That One Coming

2008-08-24T23:04:00.000-06:00

Life is funny. And by funny I mean ha ha funny, weird funny, ironic funny and interesting funny. You think you know where you’re going and then BAM! the road ahead is washed away and there’s a pathway with bunnies and rainbows and music that you didn’t even notice before.

Being part of the military has its benefits. It has its downsides too. The biggest downside other than deployments are the constant changeover of friends. I figured that since we’re stationed in my hometown, that wouldn’t really be an issue. Well, I was wrong. A few friendships are able to be maintained regardless of distance. Most are not. There’s something about ‘out of sight, out of mind’ that happens with a lot of people. I’m not one of those people so when it happens to me, I take it personally. I had one awesome friend who helped drag me through my first pregnancy and post partum horror. We were inseparable. And then she moved. And now she’s got a different circle and doesn’t even communicate with anyone from the group she was with here. Another friend and I hit it off right away. She had a brand new baby and a daughter Trey’s age. I was newly pregnant with Leah. Our husbands got along great. We got together at least once a week for dinner and once a week at the park. Our older two were best friends. We all went to church together. We took them to Vegas with us for the Marine Corps ball. We had a blast. Then he got another job which moved THEM. Hey, we’re the military people. We’re supposed to leave, not the civilians. I have one girlfriend I’ve been in constant contact with since high school. Her husband is also a Marine and they’ve been out of the area since 2004 but things haven’t really changed between us. Why can’t this be the norm? To put it lightly and without dishing all the dirt on the other people, I have friend issues. I’m always looking for quality. I size people up. I’m not one to have twenty friends at all times. I have a handful that I cherish and plan on them being in my life forever. It rarely works that way and unfortunately, I mostly get along with other military wives because I don’t have to explain EVERYTHING. They just get it, they know the acronyms, they know the lifestyle, they’ve survived a deployment or four. I hate that because they end up leaving. I need stability. WHY did I fall for a guy in the military? Rather, why is the guy I fell for in the military at all? Well, that’s a rather loaded question, but it is what it is and this whole process has stretched me. Not a lot, but enough to be uncomfortable a whole lotta times.

During one of those uncomfortable times I was sitting at home, bored and not really knowing what to do with myself. I had a little baby boy and my husband had a relatively new job in the Marines. I wasn’t working. It was not too long after 9-11 had taken place. Things were crazy, unpredictable and up in the air. I got online and to bring back some peace from the past, I started googling people from high school. I have a very strange tendency to remember a lot of useless things: people’s first and last names that I wasn’t even really friends with, people’s birthdays after being told once (but I’m horrible at remembering to send a card), what someone was wearing to so and so’s 8th birthday party, a song that was being sung during a spaghetti dinner for a Girl Scout get together (Boy George’s Do You Really Want to Hurt Me being sung by some crazy older Cadettes while I was a very shy, timid Brownie. They scarred me for life). Anyway, I remember weird things. So I’m googling and not really finding a whole lot until…I come across this blog of someone I was in Spanish II with my sophomore year. Erika sat right in front of me in class and we would talk before class started (and sometimes during it). I started reading and found out all about her current life. I sent her an email saying hi and asking about others we both knew when she informed me that she hung out with someone I was best friends/worst enemies with between 1st and 12th grade. You know how it is: you meet when you’re six, you’re inseparable, you grow up, you get new friends, you hate each other, you make up and the process repeats until before you know it, you’re 18 and you’ve grown up together and apart and now you’re legal adults and how did that happen? We emailed a few times more and then I started emailing with Krista, our mutual friend. We didn’t really have a whole lot in common anymore. She and her husband didn’t have kids, she worked full time, her life was very different than mine. The last time we’d emailed was in 2003.

We moved out of our house on base in 03, changed email carriers and I lost contact with Krista. I figured it was just meant to be. I’d tried to contact her, but it just didn’t happen. Life went on, I had Leah, started my second blog (which you’re reading now) and kept reading about Erika’s life. Within the last six months I noticed that Krista would comment on Erika’s posts. I’d tried to say hi through the comments, but nothing came out of it. Again, it must have been as it was to be.

Less than three weeks ago, I noticed a link to Krista’s blog. I didn’t know it even existed! I read all about her life as a mom and left her a comment saying hello and it’s been a whirlwind ever since. We decided to meet one morning and get our kids together. In walks this person I haven’t seen in fourteen years who looks just like I remember her and it was surreal. The irony, haha, strange, interesting part is that Erika, the reason for our reconnection, showed up not ten minutes later for a separate playdate with a totally different person. Now that, my friends, is bizarre.

Krista and I met up again for dinner at her place and it wasn’t like getting together with a new friend. It wasn’t like getting together with a friend you’ve had forever, either. It was very much a combination of both. We had (and still have) so much to catch up on. Our lives and circles were so different in school even though we were in the same spot and lived less than three blocks from one another. There wasn’t an uncomfortableness (yes it’s a word, I just made it one) in her house—I felt at home, like it was normal and could just go in the fridge if I needed to, or search for a spoon in a random drawer.

We’re like, grown ups now, with responsibilities and kids and bills and real cars that have our names on the titles. We used to wear jelly bracelets and beg our moms for Cabbage Patch Kids, got excited over our first pair of Vans and Esprit bags, got in fights over rumors and hurt feelings, had sleep overs and secrets. It’s weird how people are brought back into your life when you’d never thought it would happen again.

Make new friends but keep the old,
One is silver and the other’s gold.

Who Knew

2008-08-21T21:01:00.000-06:00

...that leaving a bottle of No More Tangles in your semi-abandoned car (due to the hubby being deployed and you don’t feel like driving that car…for a week…or two…or four) will crack under the August heat and leave a gooey, lotion-like mess on the carpet of the floorboard?

Huh…

Something to remember.

(I got it cleaned up, Bill. Don’t worry.)

At least it smelled good.

SWEET!

2008-08-15T18:09:00.000-06:00

I was cleaning my kitchen and somehow a card in an envelope had been forgotten, tucked in a corner. It was for me! And it had cash! Happy Birthday to me! With a $50 bill! Good thing it wasn't a check, my birthday was in April.

Back to cleaning. Maybe I'll find that pot of gold I've been searching for.

Pick your title

2008-08-12T23:03:00.000-06:00

Pick your battles. It’s the common mantra of any experienced parent. When I became a parent, I wanted to do everything by the book. I wanted to nurse the right amount of time, I wanted to make sure my baby was being mentally stimulated enough, he wouldn’t watch tv (what was I thinking?), he wouldn’t be on a bottle longer than necessary, he would eat organic, home cooked meals as often as possible, he would be home schooled, all his doctor visits would be exactly when they needed to be and he would just be the most loved, well rounded kid. Well, something happened. I gave birth. Things are so different when you’re living them versus planning for them. I’m a great planner. My follow through isn’t the best. I’m notorious for flaking out on things and it’s one of my weaknesses that drives me batty. I did pretty well on a lot of things. I failed (by my own standards) in others. One thing that my son has always been great at is sleeping. At two months old, he slept through the night and has done so ever since. I put him in his bed and he stays there. I never had a weepy toddler outside my room, begging to sleep with me. I never had a preschooler sneaking out of his bed to play with his toys. And now I have a six and a half year old that will still take a nap if I ask him to.

My daughter was born and my rules for my son didn’t fit her. She was so different. She was so easy compared to Trey. She nursed like a champ. She hardly cried. I just wanted to keep her in her present state forever. I still do. I just told her this morning that I didn’t want her to get any bigger*. However, there are some things that my son does a lot better than my daughter. One of those things is sleeping. Oh my Leah. I spent many a nights in her room trying to persuade her back to sleep. As an infant, she seemed to think party time was between 2 and 5 am most nights. It’s hard to be in party mode if you’ve only been asleep a couple of hours. As a toddler, she figured out how to get out of her crib right away so I had to install those silly childproof plastic rings on her door. She would get so frustrated and scream and cry until she wore herself out and ended up falling asleep on the floor. Once she mastered the art of opening the child proof door, she started coming into our room. I’d put her back. She’d come back a half hour later. I’d put her back again. An hour would go by and she’d be back. By 5am I would give up the fight and she’d stay in bed with me. Something I swore I’d never let happen.

When Bill deployed, bedtime for her became an even bigger battle. Her list of requests got longer and bedtime would take at least an hour and this was after putting Trey to sleep successfully within two minutes of closing the book we’d read. I got tired of fighting. I’m playing the part of two parents and this is one battle I’m going to let go for now. She comes in my room with me at night to fall asleep and then when I’m ready for bed, she’s carried (like the princess she is) back to her room. Her requests are still there before she falls asleep, but not as many. Her main request after I turn the light out is for me to rub her back. Who doesn’t love a good back rub? After I finish, it’s usually followed with, “one more time?” I give in each time. The other night, her request was a little strange. “Mommy?”
“Hmmm?”
“Would you rub my back?”
“Sure. Turn over.”

…

“Leah, you need to lie on your stomach if you want me to rub your back.”
“Mommy? Would you rub my eyeball?” One of Leah’s favorite words of hilarity is ‘eyeball’. I’m not sure what’s so funny about eyeball, but it’s like her version of ‘smurf’. Remember how you could use ‘smurf’ in any context and it would become verb, adjective, noun, etc.? Eyeball.
“Ewwww! I’m not going to rub your eyeball!”
“What about my nose?” I begin to rub her tiny nose. “No, mommy. Inside my nose.”
“Leah, I am not sticking my finger in your nose.”
Bursts of laughter. And then she shows me how she is going to rub the inside of her nose. So dainty. “What about my teeth?” I start to rub her teeth with my finger. “Nooo, you need a tooh-brush! You want me to rub inside your nose?”
“Leah, go to sleep.”

*She was very upset at the thought of staying four forever. She asks constantly when she will be a grownup and what, exactly, she’ll be able to do once she reaches that milestone. I don’t dare mention that she won’t be living with me at that point since that makes her more upset.

Is it Possible?

2008-08-08T15:36:00.000-06:00

My days at work have been…shall we say…lame. My church aka my place of employment has been shooting a movie all summer. Not some little dinky churchy movie, but a full feature film that will be released sometime next year. They’ve taken over everything. “Where’s the good paper cutter?”
“Oh, the production team took it.”
“Why can’t I find any tape?”
“Someone from production took it.”
“We just had thirteen pairs of scissors up here, where did they all go?”
“Production.”
People disappeared, too. There were only a few people here and there in the building because almost everyone was involved in some form in the movie. I was on the set when I could be, taking pictures or transporting things or actors to and from here and there. At first it was really exciting. It was so cool to see the filming taking place, the lights, the clapboard and all the other things that go along with it. Then, it just got annoying. Everyone was exhausted and the things that normally get done didn’t because the focus was on the movie. Ohhhh the moooovie.

I began working more hours the week Trey started summer camp. This coincided with the start of filming so I’d show up to work and have nothing to do because my boss happens to be the guy who wrote the script and is one of the producers. Guess where he was all summer. The movie. So at first I used that time to organize my desk and files and to get caught up on things that were on my perpetual to do list. Then I’d go to a different department and help out there. Then the work just ran out. I’d stick around for an hour but then leave because I’d be earning money for doing nothing and that just didn’t seem right, so I made myself useful. I’ve been catching up on friendships. Yay!

Yesterday, my friend CC and I got together at noon at our ~~crack house~~ favorite spot, Starbucks. We met up at noon and I figured since I’d been drinking coffee all morning, I’d get something decaf. Well, my drink no longer is offered in decaf. Oh, I’ll be ok, I guess. I got it anyway. We had a lot to catch up on. Inlaws, husbands, kids, friends (current and former), politics and of course The Jonas Brothers. Huh?? She has two teenagers. I didn’t have anything to contribute to that particular conversation. The most mature show we watch is Drake and Josh. We ended up staying for over two hours. Did you know that if you get a drink before noon, you can get a grande cold drink after 2:00 for $2? We love a bargain and had to take them up on it. I mean, we were already there. I felt a headache coming on, presumably from the large amount of caffeine screaming through my veins so I decided to order tea. Yes, still caffeinated but a lot nicer to your body. I love green tea. I like lattes. Green tea lattes? Yeah, not so much. Picture swamp water with a little milk thrown in for color. It didn’t help with my headache either.

After I got home I drank about a half gallon of water to try and flush my system out. It didn’t work. I went to pick up my kids, still drinking water. We came home and I made dinner. I had water. I drank water all night and STILL went to bed with a headache. My question is, is it possible to get a caffeine hangover? My answer is yes and two Starbucks for me without enough food equals an unhappy camper. I don’t know how CC does it. Every morning she stops in to Albertsons on her way to work to order her drink. The barista knows exactly what she wants since she orders the same thing every day. She has a registered card and gets her soy in her drink for free because of it. She’ll even stop on the way home and pick up another one. I’ve been in the car with her and she can’t decide what she wants as we’re going through the drive thru, so she’ll order two. Her insides must percolate when she heats up. I love coffee, but that’s too much.

I’m going scrapbooking tonight. I wonder if I should stop for a Java Chip frap?

I'm back

2008-08-07T21:18:00.000-06:00

I have all but given up on this blog until now. Something has compelled me to pick it back up. I must admit, I was unfaithful. I opened a new blog in a new venue thinking I would be totally anonymous and post things raw and uncut, but I didn’t have anything to say, really. So here I am. I won’t really attempt to catch up since I’ve been gone for so long so I’ll just pick up where I left off. If you’re reading this, former-regular reader or lurker, would you please leave a comment so I know you stopped by? Thanks so much and I look forward to writing again.

Auld Lang Syne

2007-12-31T10:57:00.000-07:00

Happy New Yearsssssniiiiiifffff!! I have the avian flu. It aviated from Ohio by way of my in-laws. I’ve been able to fend off every germ and bug that my little Petri dishes have brought home from school since the summer just by using Airborne but these are serious mid-west germs that were packin’ heat…or something like that.

We had ten fun-filled days with family in town and we survived to tell about it! It helps everyone in the mix that when they come to visit, they rent a condo down at the beach. Vacation for them and our house stays somewhat normal during the routine hours of the late pm and early morn. If not, I think I’d be typing this with a pencil wedged in my teeth pecking away at keys while strapped to a bed in a mental hospital lined up next to the rest of the family. That could be fun too.

As usual, there was way too much. An abundance of food and chocolate and gifts. There was an abundance of wine, but that’s still sitting in the wine rack minus one bottle that HAD to be opened for Christmas dinner for my mom and I to share: Click here. Seriously. So funny I had to buy it and it was pretty good stuff. The inlaws aren’t drinkers so we had to ~~sneak into the closet to get tipsy~~ have cider instead.

Depending on my avian flu, there is a party planned for tonight. I’m such a wild child that I have to get my party on or it’s just not New Year’s Eve. Or maybe it’s because one of my best friends is in town from North Cackilacky and threatened my life if I didn’t spend the evening whooping it up with her and some mutual friends…I can’t remember. Tomorrow brings new, crisp calendars and blank sheets ready for new goals. Christmas will be put away with ideas to make it better and more organized for next year. Time to break out the dust rags and the linen scented air freshener and pack away the pine and cinnamon.

A new beginning for all.

2007-12-24T11:39:00.000-07:00

I am attempting to blog again. Whether or not I will be successful remains to be seen. Let’s see…now where was I? Oh yes. So what has the “B” household been up to that I can write about and not make you nod off on your keyboard and short it out after the drooling begins? I was invited to a cookie exchange hosted by a neighbor whose kids attend the same school as Trey. Other school moms would be there too. I thought it would be all “Wisteria Lane-ish” and I was looking forward to a good cocktail and maybe a new friend outside of my regular circle. Well yes, there was a cocktail offered but only three of us partook. Half of the attendees were Mormon and I was feeling judged. Whatever. They ate chocolate so ha! That’s a no no in the LDS world. It turned out to be a bunch of ladies who only sort of knew each other talking about…the school. BOR-ING. Ok, I get it to a point but the whole night?? We were away from our kids so why not try to do something fun and girly and not talk about the flooded playground and the gay fourth grade teacher? Sheesh!

******************************************************************

I’ve been trying to motivate my six year old to take the training wheels off his bike. My poor neurotic son is just like me so he doesn’t want to make any mistakes and how can you make a mistake if you don’t try? Just for the record, I forced myself to try over and over until I accomplished the delicate balance needed when I was five and needed something to do while at the babysitters. Anywho, the training wheels weren’t even so he’d be riding down the street tilted to one side and I figured if we didn’t correct it soon enough, he would think that THAT was the correct balance needed and be doomed to a life of roller skates to get around until he learns to drive. I couldn’t convince him, his dad couldn’t convince him, no bribing or taunting by the older boys in the neighborhood got him to venture out. Bill’s family arrived for Christmas on Friday. I suggested that the men work on a sneaky plan while the girls subjected themselves to torture while shopping and try to get Trey to at least think about graduating to the world of two wheels. Bill’s mom says as we get close to our neighborhood after being out all day, “So, do you think Trey’s learned how to ride his bike yet?”
“No way. He probably got frustrated after he couldn’t get it the first time and stormed into the house.”
We pull up and that little turkey isn’t just riding his two-wheeler but turning corners, zigzagging up the street and stopping on a dime. I shouted out, “I TOLD you you could do it!!!” That booger. I knew he could, I just thought he’d take longer. The video does show him storming off after he lost his balance once. At this point, I was crashing into cars and scraping up elbows and knees. He’s such a perfectionist.

*******************************************************************

As Trey used to say, today is Christmas ‘even’. We’re headed off to my dad’s tonight, a tradition I’ve held every single year since my parents split back in the late 80’s. There will be a huge spread for a smaller crowd. The fireplace will be lit, Christmas carols playing and the kids will be flying around the place in anticipation of opening gifts. My sister and her daughter live at the house so my kids actually have a cousin to see once in a while. When I was little, Christmas was a full house with a gaggle of girls in patent leather mary janes and fancy dresses sneaking candy before dinner and fighting about everything and nothing at all. I wish my kids had a big extended family like I did but I’ll take what I can get and if that means one extra kid dressed in comfy clothes and not as much fan fare, so be it. When we get home, my little ones will open their traditional one present and find brand new freshly washed pj’s and new slippers to accompany them to bed. Tomorrow will be filled with family and wonder and chaos and lots and lots of food. I love Christmas. I wish families took the time to be together as much without the holiday needed as an excuse.

Merry Christmas!

No Title this time

2007-11-14T18:19:00.001-07:00

Ya know, it's really hard to rehearse for our big Christmas production when it's 82 degrees outside.

Just sayin'.

What's Up, Buttercup?

2007-11-12T10:37:00.000-07:00

I’ve been such a lazy blogger as of late. I don’t have much to say here when I have someone to say things to. I’m much better at pontificating when Bill is out of the country. I’ve considered putting a hiatus on this project just because of the neglect. I’m online every day, reading about everyone else’s lives but I’ve been keeping mine offline. I’ve posted a few times on myspace but nothing really thought provoking.

So let’s see…the fires, as I’m sure most have read, were and still are a disaster. We were fortunate in that we didn’t have any structural damage. We didn’t have to evacuate. We just got a LOT of ash—everywhere. I’m still cleaning. My office aka our church, was used as an evacuation site. What does that mean for me? My job was crazy. I still had to do my normal work but I had to walk through hundreds of strangers sleeping, eating, nursing babies, playing, talking on cell phones just to get to my office. The kids had the whole week of school off because of the horrendous air quality. Just one more benefit of California schools: all doors from the classrooms lead directly outside instead of into a hallway like most of the country. I just counted this as our snow day. Fire day. Seems reasonable to me. Except that when you have a snow day you get to go outside and play. Fire days mean you are STUCK inside with whichever parent can stay home with you. By the end of the week we were ready to all take separate vacations. Never in history has our 2100 square foot home seemed so small. We’re getting on with life as though nothing has happened (although the pack n’ play and an air mattress that I lent haven’t been seen since I dropped them off at church) there are still hundreds of families that have a lot of rebuilding to do.

I’m ready for the holidays. I’ve started my annual Christmas letter. I’ve started shopping. I’ve started my baking list. It makes a world of difference to have Bill here. Last year, I begrudgingly decorated the house (he was in Okinawa for Christmas in 06). Now I’m making plans of what will go where. We rented a rug doctor and I cleaned my couches and my floors so when the time comes to pull those red and green boxes in from the garage, I won’t see other things that need attention: just shiny orbs and strings of lights waiting to shine their glory upon our home.

My kids are crazy. Or is it me who’s crazy? It’s a toss up. Both are in school, but I’m not to that point where I can have a pedicure and a latte while they’re there. I’m working during the times between dropping them off and picking them up. My wonder son is already in trouble. The teacher (and yes I’m bragging, but it’s legit) told me he’s one of the smartest in his class but he keeps disrupting by starting mock fights with two of the other ‘smarter’ kids. Ok, so we need to work on behavior. All of a sudden, six years old has turned into crazy-boy behavior. He used to be so angelic. Leah’s in preschool AND ballet. I love it. I love seeing her in her leotard and pink tights. I love watching her passé and pique. She has tap the second half but she likes ballet more. I’m living vicariously through her and it’s great. I have pipe dreams of her improving every year and moving on to Pointe when she’s older. We’ll see. She’ll probably be a soccer star instead. My three year old ‘princess’ can dribble the ball and keep it away from me in the back yard.

Today’s a holiday for the family. Bill and I are off to celebrate the Marine Corps birthday by dressing up and driving off to one of the casinos to eat, drink and be merry with a hundred other Marines and their dates. Dancing will follow and then maybe we’ll try our luck at the slots. We’ve made it to almost every ball since we started dating in 1994. The only times we’ve missed were when he’s been out of the country on deployment or the time when I was two weeks postpartum. Didn’t seem like it would be too fun to dress in a ball gown with a deflated basketball still inhabiting my belly.

So, I’m still here. I think I have three or four readers left, two of them being family. =) When I have something to say I’m sure I’ll share. Until then, Merry November.

It's a Little Warm

2007-10-23T16:02:00.000-06:00

Pretty much every part of San Diego county is on fire, was on fire, or is being smoked in. We're packed and ready to go. My church is housing 500+ evacuees. The entire county has shut down each and every school and more than 350,000 homes have been evacuated.

That is all.

Conversations with Leah

2007-09-01T09:06:00.001-06:00

We've just finished dinner. Leah has once again taken residence on my lap. I'm squeezing and hugging her, marveling at how quickly time is going by. I look at our family portrait on the dining room wall. Leah is 8 months old. "Leah. What happened to my baby? Where did you go? I don't want you to grow up! I want you to be like that baby again" I say, teasing her. "I can't believe you're going to preschool next week. What happened?"

Leah looks into my eyes. She cups my face with her petite hands and with all the three year old sympathy she can muster says, "Mommy. Mommy...I'll be a baby on Saturday, ok?"

Wild Thang

2007-08-19T23:11:00.001-06:00

Know what’s really creepy? When it’s totally dark outside and you’re sitting in the quiet of your house, in a room by yourself, and you hear something. And it’s not the hubster or the kids. You hear something outside. And it’s too big to be your faithful bunny companions. And it’s not your cats because they aren’t allowed outside. And you keep hearing noise but it’s not distinguishable but you’re paranoid because your house was broken into when you first moved in. And then the sensor light goes on. But nothing runs away, so you look out the window. And you wait. And you hear it some more. And then it appears. A stupid opossum walking along the top of your fence, eating what’s left on the plum tree. Have you seen an opossum lately? Or ever? Those things are hideous. And mean.

Every night I hear them outside chewing. It’s gross. Imagine a two year old eating a banana while pointing a microphone directly toward his mouth. At least they’re not fighting and hissing at each other. ((shiver)) Seriously, what purpose do they serve?

Times, they are a changin'

2007-08-17T17:50:00.000-06:00

The old addage of the Marine Corps is, "If the Corps wanted you to have a wife, they would have issued you one!" Oh, how very clever you Devil Dogs are. Your first priority is to the corps, and family is second...so they say. Sacrifice is everywhere. I'm starting to see a few changes. The wives are always recognized and honored at deployment briefings, reenlistments and retirements. Then the paternal leave started. Ten days to be at home with your wife and newborn. I was starting to get sad again at all of the things Bill will miss once again as he deploys next year, but thankful that he'll at least be home for the holidays this year and Trey's first day of kindergarten. Parents are invited to join their little ones for a shortened first day of school. I knew I'd be trying to push one kid into the room and keep the little one out of the excitement of 'big kid things'. But then I just got an email from my dear hubby. The CO (Commanding Officer) has given those with kids the first day of school off so the family can attend together. Sweet! War guilt? Who knows but at least this is a small makeup for the amount of time he's gone.

My Achy Breaky Heart

2007-08-07T17:07:00.000-06:00

I was at a leadership conference over the weekend. It was small and intimate and almost everyone knew one another. One of the guys up on stage was recalling a time back in the late eighties or early nineties when someone from the crowd interrupted and yelled out, “and you probably had hair, too!” since the guy on stage is what you’d call follically challenged.

“Actually, I had a mullet”

Uproarious laughter. Mullet. Why? Why did we all accept this as an ok form of hairstyle. Not just ok, but cool? Whose idea was it to even start this trend? The guy onstage followed with, “ok, let’s be honest. Who else out there had a mullet? Come on, fess up.” People giggled as a few guys boldly raised their hands in remembrance of the Billy Ray era. And then a few of us noticed him. The guy in the front row. With. The. Mullet.

Oh yes he did. And he looked like he was fresh from the salon with a tight little perm going on. Darn it, I forgot to look and see if he remembered to peg his jeans.

July Wrapup

2007-08-02T10:42:00.000-06:00

It’s been hard for me to blog. Not that I don’t have anything to say, I’m just not sure how I want to say it, when, where, etc. No, I don’t have anything that I’m going to spill out here right now. Lots of little things, but if my opening sentences sounded like I’m about to get all juicy…sorry. It’s been six and a half weeks since our good friend Eric was killed. It feels like it just happened. We’re still picking up the pieces. I’ve never experienced a friend dying before. Usually, it’s old people I’m related to, who knew it was coming or were at least prepared in the way of wills and things of that nature. Here, we have no will. Probate. Insurance. Attorneys. Not fun. I’m watching my friend try and just be sad over the fact that she lost the love of her life but she can’t because she has paperwork to do.

On the opposite end of life, my kids are crazy big. What happened? An older friend of mine asked how ‘the babies’ were doing. I looked at her with a fake pouty face and said fine, but getting too big and I mentioned we were done with diapers. “NO! You can’t be done with diapers” she said.
“I know. Didn’t you just bring dinner over two weeks ago?” (she brought food right after I had Leah in 2004)
“Yes, it was at least two weeks ago.”
My baby is a big girl who is starting preschool AND ballet next month. I try and hold her and smell her baby goodness as much as I can before she gets the kid stank going on. My big kid is heading off to kindergarten in 25 days. So begins my life of being mom to KIDS, not babies.

Having Bill home for the summer is way cooler than having him gone. Last year was just crazy. Now that he’s home do we have bees in the attic? Soaring temperatures and no working AC? A flea infestation that hit my indoor cats? No. No bees in our bonnet. It’s been in the lower 80’s and breezy, no need for AC. My cat has managed to escape outside numerous times and not a jumping bloodthirsty critter on him. Now ants…well, we always get ants. Stupid ants.

Unfortunately, I only get to have him with me for the remainder of the year. Looks like (which means we won’t actually know until right before it happens) that he’ll be headed back to Iraq (UGH!!) sometime in early 08. This will be his third tour there and fourth deployment in five years. Hellllloooo…can you say ‘up my Paxil please’? The only good thing, which I could live with out and would rather have him here, is that it will make finances super easy and we are trying to get ready to buy a house. Something about your life being at stake 24/7 over there that makes them pay you a bit better.

Bill and I celebrated eleven years of marriage last Friday. “Mawwiage…is what bwings us togevvah today” (bonus points if you can name the movie). Anywho, we saw the Simpson’s movie and went out to Black Angus to get our grub on. Funny movie. Good food. All is great in the world and now I know Bart way more than I wanted to.

And on a fun note, you totally have to check out this website. It’s hilarious: Planet Hiltron

MeMe.

2007-07-21T10:57:00.000-06:00

Woohoo! I've been tagged for a meme by Judy.

THE RULES:List 8 facts/habits about yourselfPost the rules at the beginning before those facts/habits are listedTag 8 people and post their names, go to their blogs and leave them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and ask them to read your blog.So here it is. 8 things about me that you probably know or don't know (deep, eh?)...
1. I LOVE to organize. The idea of pulling everything out of my hall closet so I can go through it piece by piece and lable it, container it or get rid of it makes me giddy.
2. I hate to clean. The dishes are my husband’s job because unless I have company coming over, they usually just sit in the dishwasher or the sink until he ends up doing them anyway.
3. I’ve lived in So. CA all but five months of my life and I don’t know how to surf. It’s on my list of things to learn before I die but I’m pretty sure I’d look really stupid out there while the 14 year old boys get all the good curls.
4. I hate cream cheese. It looks good and I try it every once in a while but I can’t stand the stuff. Even if you tell me I won’t be able to taste it in a recipe, or omit the fact that something has cream cheese in it, I can still taste it and I have to spit it out.5. I lost my baby weight so quickly after having Leah that I was in itty bitty clothes by her first birthday. Those clothes are too small for me now. I’d like to be able to wear them again.
6. I have “friend” issues. Two of my so-called best friends totally screwed me over. Now I’m in protect mode and only really open up fully to one. Who knew that this kind of drama went on past high school?
7. Someone gave me a Ford Expedition last year. Free. And I didn’t even know them until the day he gave me the car. Long story. You can read about it here http://ohthosekids.blogspot.com/2006/10/never-say-never.html
8. My kids are sixth generation southern Californians. I’m stoked they’re being raised right where I was, which is totally weird mostly because we’re a military family. So blessed.

Okee dokee. So the eight people I tag are...

Andrea
Shelley
Erika
Rachel
TKW
Michelle
Kristine
Heather

Oh a camping we will go...

2007-07-07T10:45:00.000-06:00

Not that I’ve been incredibly great at keeping my blog updated as of late, but this time I’ll have a real excuse. Tomorrow the four of us and way too much luggage will be piled into the Expedition for a two hour drive up the mountain for a week of fun in the hot, hot sun. We’ll be at family camp with a bunch of other people in ‘deluxe’ accommodations, and by deluxe I of course mean the four of us will be sharing a room and spreading out between two bunk beds, no air conditioning and we’ll be sharing a bathroom with another family. BUT! there're things to offset the no-so-lovely sleeping arrangements. Mini-golf, kayaking, the ‘blob’ (where you sit on one end of a huge inflatable pillow while someone jumps from a platform to send you flying into the air and then crashing into the lake), family bingo night, crafts and lots and lots of time for the kids to be with other kids while Bill and I are doing our own thing. It’s a time to get away, reflect, pray, read, worship and learn. Normally, the trip would cost us around $1300. Because we’re special, and I know we are because that’s what my mommy told me, we only paid $100. $100!! I’d spend that just on food and utilities for the week here. I think we may actually be saving money by leaving. Ok, so we’re only paying one Benji because we’re military but still…

I know there will be meltdowns. It’s gonna be hot. My kids are picky and I’m not bringing food, they have to eat what’s there. Things will take some getting used to but I know that it’s gonna be great. We’ve been trying to make this trip for the last four years but there’s always been some reason we couldn’t make it. I can’t wait to get away.

Too Fun

2007-07-03T15:33:00.000-06:00

2007-06-24T22:32:00.000-06:00

When things are going swimmingly in my family, I know something’s up. I know that it will be short-lived. Not to be ‘doom and gloom’ or pessimistic, it’s just how things pattern themselves in my life. We said goodbye to our friend on Sunday as he was preparing to deploy to Iraq. Our small group had been getting together weekly for about two years: dinner, catch up on life and then into Bible study. We love being together. All of us, minus the guy heading out to Iraq and his wife, got together that Wednesday for our regular weekly meeting. We talked about some pretty philosophical stuff. We talked about free will versus predestination. We went over prayer requests and struggles along with victories. We didn’t foresee how much our lives would be changed in less than a week.

Monday morning I get a phone call. Not from the home of the deploying husband but from the house of one of the gals who’s with us all the time. It was her best friend. “Eric was in a really bad car accident—and he was killed.”

…

What? No. This is Eric. Big, tough guy, Eric. Everyone’s best friend, would do anything to help anyone out, just saw him, Eric. This has been one of the worst weeks in my family’s life. This was my husband’s best friend. Our boys went to preschool together. His wife is a great friend of mine and when Bill was deployed, Eric is the one that would wrap his big arms around me and encourage me. He sang on the praise band with Bill. We had plans for the summer. His wife would look at us military wives and shake her head and say, “I don’t know how you guys do it—I go crazy when Eric’s gone for a week and here you are with your husband’s gone for six months or more.” They were married for thirteen years. Three beautiful kids.

The service was today. Standing room only. He touched so many hearts that people from every stage of his life were present. My husband sang in his honor.

We miss you so much, Eric.

Oh, Wait, Here I Am!

2007-06-17T23:05:00.000-06:00

It’s been much too long since my last post. I’ve been floating around and visiting everyone else, but my door has been closed to blog-visitors. Life, while good, always seems to be crazy. Perhaps I can try to sum everything up in a few paragraphs.

Excuse #1 for not blogging: my friend from high school who has since moved around the country came out for a visit and was here for three weeks. I needed lots of time to fill in the months we don’t have together, there was a wedding thrown in there (not hers, but her sisters), and a new baby I had to snuggle with. Shopping and dinners out and quite a bit of girl time took precedence over writing.

Excuse #2 for not blogging: my mom. I just saw a sign that said, “If it’s not one thing, it’s your mother”. Well, this time it’s true. My mom was diagnosed with cancer in March. By May she had gone through numerous doctor’s visits and three surgeries and I was with her for almost every visit. I got to take care of her like she’s cared for me throughout my life. She’s stubborn. And she’s a mom. So guess who was trying to make ME a snack less than an hour after leaving the hospital post same day surgery? “Mom, would you please sit down? You JUST GOT HOME!”
“Oh, I’m fine.” And then later she wonders why she’s so tired. Um, helloooo! Your body is trying to reform itself while you’re running around the house.
If you’re interested, she’s doing great and it looks like she’s free and clear, praise God!

Excuse #3 for not blogging: Celebration bonanza. My birthday, mother’s day, Leah’s birthday, father’s day, Trey’s graduation from preschool (seriously, do we really need to do this?) Chuck-E-Cheese birthday parties every other week. Oh, did I mention, my kid doesn’t eat pizza? Yes, we are the weird ones at the party who have the kid who gets the salad bar at a pizza place. I counted all of the celebratory things that happened or are yet to happen just in the month of June for our family and there are NINE. Nine events to either plan or attend. Feast or famine. I’m sure August will be a slow month and I’ll be complaining that we’re not doing anything. I’m prepping to punk my boss' office this week in preparation for his 30th birthday. His wife and I are on secret missions to make sure each of our plans works out: mine in the office, and the party she’s planning for him at home. The wife and the secretary, a perfect pair. Dun-dun-dunnnnn!

Excuse #4 for not blogging: Life. Bill’s actually home. I do my best blogging when my head is about to explode from being a single parent and I have no other outlet. However, things are looking really good right now, which frankly, we really needed after a year like 2006. I’m sharing the parenting responsibility (what a novel idea), I get a break more than once a week and I get to have adult conversation every. single. day. Yes, it’s confettied with “please stop talking when mommy and daddy are trying to have a conversation!!” but at least we’re in the same room. We’re getting together with friends, we’re having dinner with other adults, we’re preparing to stick one kid in kindergarten and one in preschool. ACK! How did that happen?

So amidst all of these things we’ve had little sprinkles of this and that. I’m trying to get reconnected with my step-sister who has a daughter Leah’s age. I’m 85% of the way done with potty training Leah. We’re preparing to go on a week long retreat in the San Bernardino Mountains next month. Life is good. Busy, but good.

Update on the "shooting"

2007-05-06T09:15:00.000-06:00

In total, eight schools were on lockdown on Friday, four of them nowhere close to the area that the supposed shooting was. A schizophrenic man was apparently between the middle and elementary schools, on the fields when some kids thought they heard some loud popping sounds which turned into a police and media frenzy and affected hundreds of families. The man was brought in for questioning. No weapon. No shooting. No injury. Just a lot of commotion.

What a strange, scary world I have to raise my kids in. The biggest threat when I attended elementary school was kidnapping or being hit by a car when crossing the somewhat busy road to get to the school itself. Now we have to talk to our five year olds about abduction and drugs, creepy adults with lures such as puppies or candy who want things that aren’t even conceivable to a little mind. The news talked about helicopter parents: those who are in constant hover mode over their kids, always wanting to know where they are and what they’re doing. Well, no wonder.

2007-05-04T14:15:00.001-06:00

My child is still at school, and I’m here penning a blog. Why? Because his school, along with three others in the same area, two of which I attended as a child, are on lockdown. LOCKDOWN. I was irritated to be stuck in the traffic leading up to the area, knowing I was already running a few minutes behind and not having a clue as to what was going on. Police and news helicopters swarmed overhead. The 7-11 on the corner is filled with flashing blue lights and the principal of my kid’s private school met me in the parking lot and told me to go home and call in an hour.

There’re reports that there was a shooting between the elementary and middle school…where I went…not that long ago. So far, no one is reporting an injury. I’m going to log off and continue watching the news coverage.

Meet me at the bike rack at 3:00

2007-05-03T15:17:00.000-06:00

So I’m reading this book titled The Highly Sensitive Child because, well, I have at least one of those kinds of kids. I’m learning so much more about myself where I thought I’d be learning about my kid. I say this because of my momma drama that happened this morning. Generally, I will take something out of context and make it into a huge production (internally of course, no need to bring attention to myself) where all of a sudden so-and-so hates me/is judging me/is plotting an awful massacre upon me. Yeah, I’m a little anxiety ridden. I’ve been getting better. Just learning that not everyone thinks like I do has been a huge weight lifted off my shoulders because I can envision that they are probably not dissecting our conversation into tiny morsels and re-masticating them like I do.

This morning was my last MOPS meeting. Period. I’d planned it that way anyway due to scheduling conflicts coming up with kindergarten and I just want to have some mommy and Leah time while Trey’s in school. If I’d been on the fence, however, as silly as it is to say, I probably wouldn’t be back. Today was my day to stay late. As a leadership member of this group, I take one of the two meetings a month and stay anywhere from 45 minutes to an hour late to clean up and put all of our stuff in it’s proper place. Washing out coffee pots, putting doodads and knickknacks, paper cups and individual creamers in their rightful containers. Our coordinator called me last night and asked for my help. Would I be able to come in and figure out if the DVD she wanted to play would work better in our actual DVD player, or the one on the computer. Sure. No problem. I told her I could come in and check that before everyone showed up at 9:15. The job is at absolute most, a two minute job. I show up at 9:00. She looks at me and says, “I thought you were coming in early to help me.” I tell her I got there as early as I could. She then asks me where a remote mic is. Why would I have this info? I don’t know. I walk into our meeting room after dropping off my kids in their rooms and I go to check the DVD. She coldly looks at me and snaps, “I’ve already taken care of it”. Um, ok. I ask her if she wants me to take a look at it. “No, it’s done” she says to me with a wave of her hand and a look of disgust on her face. Whoa. I was there when I needed to be. My ask from her was to check the DVD, not look for a mic, not set up the audio or the lights or anything else. She ruined my whole day. I tried to not let it get to me, I tried to enjoy my time, but it was tainted with her dirty look and her annoyance with me that came from her assumption of my help, which she didn’t even imply, let alone ask.

Not only am I irritate with her, I’m irritated that I let it get to me. I’m irritated that I can’t brush things off and I’m irritated that my last day of this group will be a memory I could life without.

To make it all better, I’m going to see my friend Amanda tonight while Bill stays home with the kids. Normally, going to see a friend wouldn’t be such a big deal, but she’s been living out of state since 2003 due to Uncle Sam and it’s time we had some girl time. And maybe a margarita.

Rambling

2007-04-14T16:09:00.000-06:00

So far I've vacuumed and steam cleaned the office carpet (Thursday)
I cleaned out and reorganized and labled (yes, I actually labled) my pantry (yesterday & today)
I've caulked the walls in the office and painted half of it. (today)

I really need to eat lunch. When I'm in the zone I rarely stop to eat and then it hits me like a truck that I have to eat NOW. Almost like pregnancy hunger. Not pretty.

I have so much more to do on my master to-do list.

**************************************************************
Heard on the radio on Friday:

"It's Friday the 13th. THE perfect day for a boob job."

Huh? I don't get it.

**************************************************************
My kids spent about 2 hours outside today playing. My son is still his English, white little self, just like his momma would be. My daughter is a luscious rosy brown, just like her 1/8th Cherokee daddy is. Where's the justice?? Guess I should break out the self tanner and get started, possibly adding it to Trey's morning routine. ;)

Kid Quotes

2007-04-12T10:12:00.000-06:00

During a very regular conversation with Trey:

"Trey, please go find something to do and quit whining! You have, like, a hundred toys you don't even play with. Go pull one of those out."

"I DON'T HAVE A HUNDRED! I ONLY HAVE 57!"

My bad.

Y is for Yuck

2007-04-07T14:06:00.000-06:00

Things were weird this week. Bill, who is never sick with anything more than a cold, was sick. I mean the baaaad kind of sick. "I feel like someone punched me in the gut" he tells me and then it hit him. Not the 24 hour mystery stomach virus but the three to five day torture round. Instantaneously, I was back to being a single parent a lot quicker than I'd expected. He spent two days in bed, the hours he wasn't at work, that is. He survived. I survived and most importantly, the kids survived.

Friday night my darling children were their somewhat normal monstrous selves when it came time to have dinner. "No popcorn", I threatened. Popcorn and movie night is a big deal come Fridays. They didn't care. They spun out of control across the family room, doing sommersaults and dancing to music no one heard but them.

2:45am Saturday. I heard THE cry. The one that makes you jolt awake, knowing that your kid just rejected everything they ate within the last six hours. Great. I let Bill sleep and took care of Leah and her sheets by myself. I cleaned her up, calmed her down and put her back to bed at 3:00.

3:15am. Wave number 2. Crap. Again, I let Bill sleep. There are times during his sleep cycle when he's absolutely useless and I pray he's never caught by the enemy. He'd give away all of our secrets, including my grandma's famous chocolate chip pie recipe. It was just easier to do this on my own.

I stayed up with her until 4-something, going in and out of sleep with her on my chest. She woke up again at six, this time just ready to be up. I passed the baton to my husband and slept until 10am, something I haven't done in at least five years.

My baby was miserable. Her longest awake period on Saturday was an hour and a half and that was from the time she woke up until nearly 8am. She'd wake up in spurts, sometimes just long enough to shift on the couch, others, for a sip of water. She'd wake up to be sick again, cry and need more comforting. Later in the day, she woke up and asked for french fries. Later again, she popped up and said she wanted to color. She didn't really want any of these things, seeing as how she'd fall back asleep within seconds of her request.

No Easter dress and hat for Leah on Sunday. She stayed in pj's with daddy while Trey and I ventured off to our usual Sunday spot.

She’s on the mend, fortunately. She still wants french fries. She still wants to color. She’s chasing the bunnies out of our yard. I’m hoping she keeps her meal in her belly so I can go to work in the morning. I’m hoping Trey and I fend off whatever voodoo germs that are floating around our home. I can deal with a sick hubby. I’ll complain about it, but I can live with it. I can live with sick kids. It’s a good excuse to watch cartoons all day. But me? Who picks up the slack when mom is down and dad can’t take sick days? Good thing I bought the big pack of Airborne at Costco.

The Daffodils Made Me Do It

2007-04-02T14:36:00.000-06:00

I don’t think it’s actually spring, so much, that makes me want to break out all of the attachments on the vacuum or gives me the desire to take every screen off the window and wash them thoroughly so much as it is the advertisement of everyone else who is organizing, labeling, cleaning and picking berries to make home-made pies. I’m an organizing freak. I hate to clean. I’ll let my cleaning go until I gather the urge to just bust out the soap and the sponge but show me a closet or drawer in disarray and I’ll become giddy with the thought of making it look perfect. All of the magazines addressed to me that have entered the home these past couple of months have brought my attention to spring cleaning. Other blogs have mentioned it, friends are doing it, so why not jump on the bandwagon?

I’ve had a friend kinda sorta living with me while Bill was gone. For some reason, I just don’t do my normal thing when company is around. Even though she technically wasn’t company, I was still way more Mary than Martha. Things got done, but not in my micro-managing way. She’s on her way out. This means my office moves OUT of my room and back into the spare bedroom. WOOHOO! Purging, refilling, tossing, recycling, donating. Love. It.

We’ve never lived anywhere as long as we’ve lived in this house since we’ve been married. Two years was tops for us. I’m used to being forced to go through everything we own every two to twenty four months (yes, we actually lived somewhere for two whole months) and evaluating what actually needs to stay in the family. We’re coming up on our fourth anniversary here. Time to touch everything and make a decision. My baby is almost three. Baby stuff: OUT. My oldest just moved from toddler stuff to full fledged kid stuff. Boy toddler stuff: OUT. I organized my upstairs linen closet this morning. I rearranged my laundry room cabinets which house not just laundry room items but paper plates and plastic cups, utensils, extra crepe paper left over from parties, extra food that won’t fit in the pantry (because I’m a Costco whore like that), baby wipes and cleaning supplies. I’m on my way to pulling everything out and getting the floors washed. Next on my list is my downstairs closet which is a dark tunnel that ends up underneath the stairs. Fortunately, I was anal enough to set up a shelving system in there when we moved in, so really, the only thing I have to organize is the first two feet. There are walls to magic erase and painting to do and carpets that need to be steam cleaned. My calla lilies are ripe for the cutting and Yankee is calling me to come get spring scented jar candles.

Are you busting out the rubber gloves?

Rx

2007-03-08T07:28:00.001-07:00

I try my best to keep my kids as healthy as possible. They’ve been duped into taking a multi-vitamin every day. I did the unthinkable and lied to them; told them it was candy and after they acquired a taste for it, I revealed the ugly ‘V’ word to them and they had no choice but to forgive me. We wash our hands like surgeons. Trey, in Pavlovian fashion will come into the house, remove his shoes and walk over to the sink to scrub up. Kids are germy. Preschools are germier. Daycare is the germiest. That stomach thing that swooped through the country these last few months? Miraculously we avoided it. We had one degree of separation and still managed to keep our gastrointestinal systems in check.

Then Trey started coughing. Trey coughs. A lot. He always has. He’s been on Albuterol on and off since about six months old. I’m an old pro at knowing when he’s really sick or if he’s just being his old, hacking self. A friend of ours had this weird virus come into the family which led her boys to hack and cough and run a fever for a week. The doctor said there was nothing to do but wait it out. That funny bug came into our home as well, or so I thought. Trey ran a fever. He’d wake up and his sheets were soaked with sweat. He’d cough all through the night. I figured we were almost done with whatever this mystery bug was. After all, getting a doctor’s appointment at the Naval Hospital is only slightly easier than picking those six winning lotto numbers.

“Mommy, my armpit hurts when I cough and when I yawn.” Ok. New game plan. After jumping through hoops with the appointment people and nurse consults at the hospital I was finally given an appointment. I thought I had experienced something for the Guinness book of records when a doctor we’ve actually seen once before came in. Wow. One person, two times. She even recognized me. We were sent to radiation and then brought back for a blood draw. My little man is so awesome. He sat still while they took pictures of his insides. He bravely smiled at me, holding back the tears as they stuck that needle into his tiny arm to fill the reservoir. He earned two stickers that day, and a lollypop from me.

Upper right lobe pneumonia.

My kid has pneumonia. What? I have no idea how this developed. He’s such a little trooper. He’s been sick for so much of his life, I think a major illness would be the only thing to knock him down. Either that, or a hang nail. Then, he’d be on the couch writhing in agony needing a bandaid.

Cost Comparison

2007-02-26T23:44:00.000-07:00

In my quest to find a place to call our own, I must use humor to deal with the craziness of my home town.

What you can get for $300,000 where I grew up:

What you can buy for $300,000 where my husband grew up:

Where's the justice? I do NOT want to live where he grew up. Shouldn't there be a grandfather clause when it comes to buying a place in your hometown? I think so. Anywhere else in the country, our income would be seen as upper middle class. Here? We qualify as 'low income' when looking at numbers for the first time home buyers program here. Ahhh, San Diego. The best place in the world you can never afford. =D

Carma

2007-02-17T09:44:00.000-07:00

After dropping Leah off at the babysitter's yesterday, I came to a four way stop with another car. I was there first. I took my turn. She tailgated me down to the light. I made the right on red and was a good five seconds ahead of her. She proceeded to race up and swerve around all the other cars and then cut me off, as we came up to a red light. Her license plate frame? "Practice random acts of kindness". I laughed out loud and shook my head. I hope she saw me in her rearview. The light turned green and she then tossed a piece of trash out her window. What?? It was one of those awkward races (for her) where no matter how fast she went, she always ended up stopped at a light just in time for me to come right up behind her again and make eye contact in her rearview. I wonder if random acts of kindness include cutting many cars off within a one mile radius and littering our streets with her crap. Karma.

Back on Track...Maybe

2007-02-12T09:40:00.000-07:00

My teeth hurt. And I woke up before I was ready. On a positive note, my son eagerly ran downstairs to switch the coffee pot from ‘worthless’ to ‘hot and ready’ so it was waiting for me, full and sensuous by the time I went to the kitchen.

_____________________________________________________________________

I have a house to clean. And laundry to do. And coupons to clip from Sunday’s paper. It’s my domestic day. My domestic days always start will great intentions. Something always throws a wrench in my cogs when I have plans. I have a bible study to complete and dessert to make for tonight. Fortunately I have push pops for the kids…and maybe the adults depending on how the dessert turns out.

____________________________________________________________________

Today is Bill’s first full week back to work. We’re back on schedule, or at least in theory. I’m not quite sure what we’re doing. Six months without him here had us on a survival schedule. Now I’m trying to design a live-and-thrive plan for the week. And yes, I am just that nerdy and controlling that I made up a weekly plan on excel. I love control. I rarely get it, so whatever I can wrap my hands around, I hang onto for dear life. And excel has those perfect little boxes.

____________________________________________________________________

Having Bill home, having his family here, just being whole again was great. We did family breakfasts, the kids climbed all over daddy while I watched, we watched Mary Poppins and ate popcorn accompanied by hot chocolate, Bill and I went on a ten hour date to include lunch AND dinner, we all went to Disneyland. It was as picture perfect as you can get. Now we have to move from our familymoon to reality…and reality is calling in the form of a little Lysol and a vacuum cleaner.

When You Wish Upon a Star...

2007-01-28T23:47:00.000-07:00

It’s good to be with family. I have my husband home. His parents and sister are out visiting for the week. I pulled Trey out of school, Leah out of babysitting and I’m taking two days off so we can have some fun. We hosted Christmas, Part Deux today, complete with turkey dinner and all the trimmings, presents and fancy dresses. Tomorrow? DISNEYLAND!!! We haven’t taken the kids yet. In fact, we haven’t visited the Happiest Place on Earth for over six years. What’s our problem? I hope it’s as magical for my kids as it always was for me when I was little. Pictures....when I finally decide to upload them assuming we come home instead of clinging to the pixie dust and the smell of churros and popcorn while happy music plays in the fake streets.

At Last

2007-01-22T21:47:00.000-07:00

The day Bill returned home, we were supposed to have rain. Instead, the sky was bright and clear, the palm fronds were shiny from the sun and white caps were forming on the ocean. It was cold, but beautiful. He came in an hour after he was supposed to arrive, which considering he works for the government, is not bad at all. All of the wives, girlfriends, parents, kids and brand new babies waited outside, shivering as the busses drove in with our men. Six months, completed. We were so happy to see each other we were shaking, partially from the 50 degree weather, partially from the anticipation six months builds. I had to show him which car was ours since the Ford was an addition to our family long after he deployed. It was fully decked out with glass marker drawings on the windows welcoming him home.

The kids thought that Bill would be back on Sunday when in actuality, he returned Friday. I decided to have a little fun with them and didn’t tell them he would be home that evening. I had a couple of different people relay babysitting and I had Bill wait outside while I walked in the front door. The kids both ran over to me yelling, “MOMMY!”, clearly from being abandoned by me earlier that morning. Trey came over and gave me a hug, noticed a big, camouflaged man out of his peripheral vision and screamed “DADDY!”. His big blue eyes opened as far as they would go. Leah looked over at all the fuss, pointed at Bill, looked at me and matter-of-factly stated, “Daddy”. Yes, that’s the man you’ve been missing all this time.

It’s been great having him home. The kids have been crawling all over him, yakking his ear off instead of mine and I’ve only washed the dishes once in the last week. There are many other reasons I’m happy he’s home, of course, but sharing the brunt of parenthood is HUGE, especially with two preschoolers. We invited our closest friends over for a welcome home party Saturday night. He finally feels like he has some good buddies, and that’s huge. Now, if everyone would stop moving out of state, we could be on to something.

I’ve been happily banished to my room. My ungrateful kids made dinner an unpleasant experience. I cooked for nearly an hour. After some smart mouth comments, fits of crying, being climbed on and having my hair pulled out as my daughter used it as her swinging rope for her impression of Tarzan, I gave Bill ‘the look’. He told me to run and lock the door behind me. I love that man. He saves my sanity. And he buys me chocolate.

Here We Go

2007-01-11T08:24:00.000-07:00

Bill's just about ready to turn in his room key for his barracks room. He'll be boarding his flight within hours. I should be getting ready for my leadership meeting for MOPS. I should have had my to do list done. Instead I'm blogging and I have a lot left to do. I was an A student when I left things till the last minute and a C student when I worked on things way ahead of time. Explain that one to me? I wrote two ten page papers over a weekend while in college, the same weekend as our Marine Corps ball and managed to get an A on both.

That being said, here is my very abridged version of my to-do list:

Clean the kitchen
Make welcome home sign
Clean out the Saturn
Clean out the Ford
Decorate windows on the ford
Put up welcome home sign
Laundry (completely possible this will NEVER be checked off)
Clean my room and bathroom
Vacuum the floors
Sweep and mop the floors
Clean the kids’ rooms
Clean the kids’ bathroom
Pick up entryway, living room and dining room
Pay bills…yuck
Clean family room
Get my nails done?
Run to the store for fruit, veggies and champagne

Ladies and Gentlemen, start your engines!

Didn't see that one coming

2007-01-08T10:13:00.000-07:00

My life is consuming me one bite at a time. As if the whirlwind of single parenthood isn’t enough, there were the holiday festivities of to embrace all around. Baking and shopping for teacher appropriate gifts sans apples and gifts for the babysitter and co-workers and those out of town and all the other confetti laden, shiny things that go along with Christmas. It was all wonderful but a little fraying to my nerves. My buffer is in Japan so being exposed to the elements gives me a little chafing.

Now I have a new list of things to accomplish this week. Cleaning and paying bills and buying paint to decorate the car. Finding out what’s for dinner tonight with my small group of friends and finishing (or at least starting) my Bible study for Wednesday. Shopping for work so I can paint yet, another sign, for the youth room. Did I mention cleaning? And school starts up again this week. Friday I had plans to get my nails done and a bit of last minute shopping done. My sitter was going to have BOTH of my kids for the whole day so I could do these indulgent tasks without yelling at a blue eyed boy to stop harassing the woman with her feet in the whirlpool. Saturday: the plan was to decorate the house, put the sign up on the garage door welcoming Bill back home and to get the cars in decent order so he wouldn’t feel obligated to do that himself. Sunday I would drop my kids off at church, letting my mom deal with them for the afternoon while I drove up to pick up my husband as he was due home on Sunday.

Last night my phone rang somewhere between me falling asleep and Leah waking up. One-ish? I didn’t answer it in time, and then I forgot all about it until I read my email this morning and encountered the title of one as, New Flight Date. Uh oh. That’s never good.

Except this time, it is. My husband will not be home Sunday. He’ll be home Friday.

=D

Last year was by far one of the most challenging years. I’m thinking this is a pretty good start to the new year. I have a few things I need to get done. Maybe for your viewing pleasure, you know, if you need some good reading material to fall asleep to, I’ll post my list and my progress. That will also be a good way to get my butt into gear instead of leaving it all until Thursday.

Guess I need to ask for Friday off.

The End or a New Beginning?

2006-12-29T22:14:00.000-07:00

It happened. It seems surreal. Are we safer now than we were yesterday or are we in for a new battle?

Saddam is finally gone.

Ho Ho Hosed

2006-12-23T10:29:00.000-07:00

This Christmas season has been more hectic than normal. I think I feel that way every year but this one takes the cake, frosting and all. For one, I’m doing everything on my own. No one to hang the lights on the house (that decorating step was omitted this year), no one to drag the giant red and green boxes in or pull the tree boxes down from the rafters in the garage. It was a comical experience I tell ya. Imagine a tall skinny girl on top of a ladder trying to pull down trees without killing herself or her very curious children. “Keep your hands on the truck! Don’t move! Back awaaaaay from the ladder! NO climbing! Get back to the truck!” Fortunately, no one was smashed. The other boxes were neatly stacked between the wall of the garage and Bill’s truck…Bill’s dead truck. A truck that could not be moved because I let the battery die. So again, here I am dragging boxes over the truck while trying to not compromise the state of the paint on said truck. Are my children behaving by quietly watching an educational video while I try to make Christmas a magical and sparkly experience for them? No. They are in the garage, practically clinging to my legs.

“Mommy! Can I help? Mommy! What’s that? What are you doing? Mommy, watch this! Mommymommymommymommy.”

UGH! “GET IN THE CAR, WE ARE GOING TO LOOK AT CHRISTMAS LIGHTS!”

“Yay!!”

That was at the end of November. Not much has changed. It took weeks to get the house decorated. I’m still wrapping presents, a task I started over a week ago. We don’t have a plethora of presents. I just have to stop after about five to either deal with a child, or one comes downstairs, early from a nap when I’m wrapping his gift or my eyelids won’t cooperate and I just have to go to bed.

Then came the parties. You know, the obligatory-if-you-don’t-attend-you’re-not-a-team-player parties. The Women’s annual tea, which isn’t a tea at all, but more of a coffee, singing, listen to a speaker and ornament white elephant thing. The staff party: great because it was OUT. I went out to dinner on someone else’s dime. The youth staff party: the crazy one with the crazy white elephant gifts and five too many people for the size house provided. The school Christmas performance: “please feel free (ie you are required as an entrance fee) to bring a plate of cookies to share”. Yeah, well, I dipped some oreos in chocolate, sprinkled on some festive ~~Mexican~~ Christmas jimmies and voila! I didn’t have time to bake or run to the store. The staff appreciation breakfast which I didn’t get to appreciate even though I’m staff because the MOPS leadership team provided breakfast and, well, I’m required to be at the leadership meetings, not the staff meetings. So, I made breakfast for that. Then came the end of the season MOPS party, and it was my turn, once again to cook for my table. In addition to bringing breakfast, this was the longest laundry list: kids in red shirts, cards for kids’ teachers, three dozen cookies for cookie exchange and an ornament for the ornament exchange. I was really really bad and only fulfilled the red shirt quota. And then I hear the other moms complain about their situation until they look at me and two of the other moms and realize that none of us will have our husband’s home this Christmas and they quickly change the topic.

I think Bill is having a harder time not being home than we are. Of course, I want him here. He’s great at starting a rip roarin fire Christmas morning, making sure we both have coffee and doing the ‘dad’ thing with the video camera to capture the festivities. This year, he’ll be with all of his co-workers but we’ll still be with family. He got the raw deal.

Since Trey was a wee lad, we’ve done Christmas at home. That was strange getting used to since our tradition while growing up was to drive up to my grandparent’s house. Every year. This was the only time I’d see half of my cousins even though we were only a two hour drive away. Tradition. Turkey? Check. Ribbon candy? Check. Crazy uncles drinking beer and cracking jokes? Check. Someone crying? Check. It was fun. At least I remember it being fun. Now instead of ripping through gifts, putting on my fancy dress and shiny mary janes to see family, we savor every minute of the morning and calmly go through our day. Not this year. We’re going to see my grandpa…and his wife.

…

They’ve been asking us for years to come up. They’re not getting any younger.

…

She has bells. LOTS of bells. Really. Like over 3,000. Seriously.

I have a two year old. How am I going to keep my kids from killing her precious collection? What in the world is there going to be for them to do? None of their cousins will be there. I will need wine or champagne and lots of it. And DVD’s for the kids.

So let’s be positive. No cooking, no cleaning, a change of scenery for everyone, and I get to see my grandpa. Man, I really hope my aunt and uncle stop by.

I’ve never wished for Christmas to be over. My eye is twitching from stress. My family room looks like the paper factory exploded. Bill will be home in three weeks but we don’t have an exact date yet. That stresses me out. I need to PLAN. I have a week with both of my children, children who need to be entertained, and fed, and attended to.

I would love to just curl up in my bed with some good magazines and my remote.

I need to focus on the true meaning of the season. Thanks, God, for the greatest gift of all. I’m praying for a miracle that will keep my budget balanced.

Stuff Portrait Friday!

2006-12-14T23:20:00.000-07:00

Being the perfectionist that I am means that I rarely get things done to my standards on time. The things that do get done on time have flaws, in my eyes, all over them. They may be perfectly fine, but I can see ways for the things to be improved. Now, I always have GREAT intnetions of participating in this cult-game. I've got the pictures in my head. Maybe they even make it on to the camera. But for one reason or another, they rarely are able to participate in SPF. Well, today they are team players, flaws and all!! If you have no idea what SPF is, go check it out and join the ~~cult~~ fun!

Ok so here we go. Today's three contestants are as follows:

1. My roof.

My car (soon to become my hubby's) may be old-lady-hair-blue but it has a sunroof and that, is the coolest roof to have. I considered taking a picture of the roof of my mouth, but this is more photogenic.

My 'hood:

Yeah, so this is the only one I have of my 'hood. At least it's all Christmas-y and stuff.

3. And lastly, something that I would not want to run into that is in my house:

This, is Buddy Lee. He's pretty old and somewhat frightening. I avoid him like the plague when the lights are out. I never know what he's going to do next.

Did you play?