Every once in a while, I get a little 'ahem' from certain bloggers. This time, it was from my faithful blog bud, Judy. Basically saying 'get on your butt and blog for cryin' out loud!' Yeah, so, it's taken me a week to recover from recovering. The retreat? Had to come home and deal with the realization that I was the one responsible for everything once again.

The retreat was great. They're never just relax-and-eat-chocolate retreats. We did a lot of work for the upcoming MOPS year. We had a lot of fun, lots of bonding, lots of detailed, embarrasing information shared during our annual 'two truths and a lie' game. Seriously people, when are you going to remember to not get too graphic in your truths? If you've never heard of the game, it's simple. Tell two truths and one lie about yourself and the rest of the group has to figure out the lie. Lots of fun when there are 20 women from all backgrounds playing. Ever play Cranium with 20 people? I hadn't either but it worked! And it was awesome because my team won due to my awesome backwards spelling skills. I answered incorrectly on the forward spelling but no one can conquer me backwards! It's a gift. We stayed on the military base in these little cabins which thankfully have been redone. They were in a state of hurt when I stayed there last. So what better opportunity for moms with little ones at the beach, with no little ones in tow, to relax, read or even shut their eyes while bathing in the sun on the sandy shores of the Pacific? Yeah, didn't happen. We had no time scheduled for that. ::Sigh:: I can't remember the last time I was able to do that. I didn't have to cook. No one did dishes. Our hospitality team set up food, made coffee and took care of all the other "wifey" things the entire weekend. No responsibility. Nice. Last year's retreat was held a month before Bill returned. This one was only a month after he left. I was in need of a retreat moreso last time than this, but still, it was a nice escape.

On another note, I've been scouring ziprealty.com for about two years just looking to see what's out there in my neck of the woods. They'll usually show the 'generous master bedroom', you know, the one where all of your furniture does not fit, the 'upgraded kitchen' meaning it was upgraded in 1985 or the pool because seriously, we all buy a condo with the pool in mind, right? Rrrright. So I came across a picture last night for a place that mentioned 'pets allowed'. Now of course, I've been trying to upload photos all day and Blogger isn't playing very nice so the rest of this entry is to be continued...

I'm OFF!

to see the Wizard.

I'm headed out for the weekend. It's a mandatory fun kinda thing. I shall return home Sunday, very tired and with sand in everything.

Ciao.

Ways to Make a Temporarily Single Mom Temporarily Insane

No naps yesterday due to the HOA cutting and chipping tree branches and making all kinds of noise and the fact that a friend/lender came over yesterday to discuss options so an early bedtime was planned, but failed, due to temporarily insane, crazed, tired children running on empty around the house with allergenic/cold suffering symptoms which kept them up even after putting them to bed at 8:15 meaning they didn't finally settle down until 11:00pm for the night meaning I didn't get to bed until after 11:30 compounded by the fact that the little one awoke at 5:45 this morning congested which in turn meant that I didn't sleep very long which prompted my ideal afternoon of naps for everyone which actually turned into naps for the kids, but not the momma because the HOA cutting and chipping people were back and NOW a neighbor at the corner is having an awning added to the back patio with incessant hammer pounding, the kid down the street is blowing a whistle just because and someone's gardener is using his leaf blower instead of a broom.

Know what makes me just a tad more insane? I forced myself to make that entire last paragraph a run on sentence and I happen to be a grammar control freak. Shake it off.

The Most Satisfying Nutter Butter Ever

Thank you, Quality Control at Nabisco for letting this one pass. Your contribution to society will be forever cherished.

Guess it's Official

Trey had his first soccer game on Saturday. That was the day I forgot my camera in a rush to leave the house, while answering a call from our MOPS coordinator who needed to talk to me about business stuff. I'm a bad mommy! I forgot the camera on the first day of the game! Wah!

I'm being completely sarcastic. My perfectionist if-I'm-not-the-best-fastest-goal makingest-kid-on-the-team-then-I'm-not-playing son decided after five minutes that he was through. Nothing I said could convince him to get back out there. We had the same issue with T-ball last year. Is this a daddy issue? Is he not playing because Bill's not here to watch? Is soccer just not his niche? When he had practice on Wednesday I thought he would be the only kid that would need an extra kick in the pants to get out and play on the field. Here's a picture of him running toward me when he should be playing. Notice anything else?

If you biggify the picture, check out what the kid in the lime green shirt is doing. =D

I noticed a flier outside his Sunday School room for a kids production that's starting. It's an ongoing class for stage, singing, etc. Is he an artist (a dramatic artist like daddy?...I love you Bill!)? The boy sang before he talked. He's quite the little ham. He'd be good at product placement, no?

This was a "mommy will you take my picture" moment. Say CHEESE!

Oh, and he is not giving up on soccer. He will ride this roller coaster until it comes to a complete stop, my friends.

Give me the 411

I hate to wait. Who, really, likes waiting? If you're at Disneyland, you know that somewhere between 15 minutes and two hours you'll be able to get on that ride. When pregnant, you know that there's literally and figuratively a light at the end of the tunnel. You know the outcome. I'm one of those people who wants nitty gritty details about the future. As a ten year old I didn't just want to know that I would get married, but wanted to know who, when, how and what he'd look like. I heart day planners. My best friends are spontaneous. It's a good, albeit, sometimes stressful match.

I'm not here to complain about the fact that I still have over 5 months to wait for Bill to return. Or that I have 14 years until Trey goes to college. Or that I'm too lazy and/or tired to potty train my very willing two year old. Nope. I'm here to vent my frustrations about most women's main lot in life: The House. I can't tell you how many times we've gone back and forth and sideways and hung a left at the next corner when it comes to our living situation. Do we stay here, do we try to get on base, do we try to buy? We've been on the base housing list since December, and at that time it was a "six month wait". P-shaw. We did that with anticipation that my friend, who usually lives in the house we're in, would be returning. They were sent to Virginia instead. Then our rent went up. The housing list was stagnant. We were number 40, meaning 39 families were before us on the very-sought-after-housing area. Because Bill deployed, they bumped us up. I don't understand the logic completely. I guess it's to try to move families in before the husband (or sometimes wife) leaves. That got us to number 10. Then we moved back to 12. Huh? Now we're at number 6. SIX. Holy cow. Do I move my entire house while Bill is in Japan, or wherever it is that he'll be? Can I move? We have no idea where we'll be going when he returns from deployment number 3. It would be really really awful to move if we'd just have to pack it up again in four months. It's happened. Not to us, fortunately. If we stay here, am I willing to give up my gigantic yard where my kids can freely play on their swingset and Leah can call the bunnies? "Bunn-ay....oh, BuNNN-ay!" We'd lose a bedroom and a yard but gain an almost new house and a shared wall (duplexes, ya know). There's a community pool, gym, clubhouse and uber-safe neighborhoods (which we haven't quite experienced here). The best part? No rent or utilities. But that's completely conditional upon Bill's return to THIS base.

My brain. It cannot process. I need to know. Plan. Sketch. Obsess.

And just how did I end up the wife of a Marine? Maybe this is God's way of stretching me. Growing me. Preparing me? I sure do fight it.