Curse you Fat Baby and Deadlines!

First you must watch this commercial--it's been on for a while and you've probably seen it already, but just in case...

Okay, so we're all agreed-CUTEST BABY EVER!

Up until a few weeks ago, this commercial *always* made me want to have another baby. Always. Never fail.

But then one day it didn't.

Goodbye Army???

We are fast approaching a stay in or get out deadline with our dear friend, Army. We waffle back and forth about what we want in life and what we want from life and what we want for our children's lives pretty regularly. When you add Army to that equation, it basically removes most options and sends you in a complete different direction that you never envisioned. Not always a bad direction and not always a good direction, but ALWAYS a different direction. So now we have to decide if we're going to keep that randomness going, or if we're going to enter the real world.

The World's Longest Cul-de-Sac

Several years ago, Army Guy had to go to this place called NTC (Fort Irwin-National Training Center) for some training before deployment. Army Guy was on Advon, so of course he got there early and had time to explore the place and report his findings back to me. His descriptions included words like "hell hole, just past no where, complete desolation, the most depressing place on the planet, horrid" and on and on.

Fast forward 5 years and we're living the dream at NTC.

The Subtle Way 9/11 Changed Me

Today we are marking the 10th anniversary of September 11th. It was a horrific day, but out of the horror grew heroes, faith, and hope. It affected everyone in a different way--no two people reacted the exact same way. No two people have had the same experiences since that fateful day. For some, their entire world ended that day with the loss of someone near to their heart. For some, they lost a sense of security that we, as Americans, had been enjoying a bit much since Pearl Harbor. For some, it inspired them to join in the fight--whether that be through Armed Forces, Firefighters or Police department. For some, it was a moment of patriotism that has since passed. For me, it inspired an intolerance of the media that I still have not gotten over.

Sometimes I wish I was a bit more like him

Army Guy has this ability to compartmentalize events like no one's business. Some days, I wish he would do it a bit less, but more often, I wish I could be more like him.

When Army Guy deployed the first time, we had a rough deployment. The first months, several Soldiers were lost. After blackout was lifted, Army Guy would touch base with me. Sometimes he talked at length about the event. Sometimes he just made random comments about the event. But he would always take one phone call/IM session to address the event and then he'd move on. It was like I was the closure for him. As soon as he finished talking to me about it, he packed it up and put it away. Not forgetting, but continuing on with the mission.

Tales From The Toilet

**WARNING: This post may contain content that is unsuitable for non-potty training experienced people, 

please proceed with caution**

So I have this toddler. This toddler that decided she needs to pee on the potty. This toddler that has no concept of when she needs to pee, just that she wants to pee. on the potty. At 24 months. And I know there are those of you who potty trained at well before 2 years of age and kudos to you. I am not one of those though. I'm a potty train at almost 3 years of age (or have daycare do it for you) kind of moms. Trying to convince a toddler to NOT potty train is a delicate thing. Having a toddler that doesn't seem to mind/notice when she accidently slips and puts a leg in the toilet, and then comes over, naked and plops that wet leg up on your couch is just disgusting. And makes the not potty training imperative.

Summer & Leave = Mommy Meltdown

Let me start this post with the following disclaimer: 

    "I Love My Husband and My Children with All of My Heart."

But....

I love them a little more when a majority of them are out of the house for at least 6 hours a day, Monday through Friday. 

Army Guy has been on leave, because of his ability to stockpile leave, since basically March. MARCH. Almost 4 months. And while yes, it's been great having him home, it would've been nice to have a warm up period. See, Army Guy came home from his latest sandbox and pretty much instantly went on leave. So, we went from one extreme to the other. No warning, no re-deployment briefs, no prep....just home. All. of. the. time. 

At first, it was awesome. He got up with the kids, I got to shower with only 10 interruptions, the kids taught him how the morning routine went, we'd run errands, have some downtime and then the older ones would escape school, the bewitching hours would begin, and then wham it was kids bedtime and we were curled up on couch watching TV. Then we added PCS prep to our lives. Not too much stress, but anyone who has PCS'd before knows that the husband being home for a PCS adds a different dynamic to having to do all the PCS prep. Typically, Army Guy is working his butt off while I'm at home figuring out what we are moving, tossing and donating. This move, he was home....asking questions. Not bad questions. Not invasive questions. Not rude questions. Just questions. I patiently (some times more patiently then others) answered all questions, explained how we moved, figured out the move.mil system, explained it to Army Guy, and we muddled through it all. And just as we were feeling all confident about our move, our movers showed up with a truck that was too small on the day that school let out, the day before we had cleaners and final inspection with the Property Management company that we listed our house with. Crap. Okay, no biggie...it's just stuff. We watched them load and then unload, and call for another truck. We hoped it would all get there and we let it go. School over. House cleaned. Keys to Property Management. Down the road we go. 

At that point, I was looking forward to Army Guy being with Thing 1 in a different vehicle. Yes, I'm a bad wife. I was just looking forward to having some quiet, non-thinking time. And I did have that, for about 2 hours off and on over a 10 hour car ride. Somehow in my delusional thinking, I'd forgotten that I'd have Thing 2 and Sam-I-Am with me. And while I didn't have to have huge, thinking conversations with them, I had to acknowledge EVERY time one of them said "MOM!" like I was 6 car lengths in front of them instead of the 2 feet I actually was. 

I then realized I was fighting a losing battle. I'd lost my quiet time. Poof. Out the window it went, somewhere along I-24 in Kentucky. 

No big deal. We'll get done with this whole move thing (which included a 3 week stay in Texas with the parents...) and then my quiet time will come back. It'll bring coffee and pedicures. It'll be great. 

And yet, here we are. Done with move. House setup. Still no quiet. 

Insert Mommy Meltdown Here.

I'm trying to be adult about it and understand that Army Guy is getting ready to go into a job that will have him gone more then home and that he's just trying to spend as much time with me/us as possible. I'm trying to be adult about it and understand that the kiddos are just bored and anxious because they've just had a major change. I'm trying to be adult about it and understand that it's a good thing that everyone needs me because eventually they'll get to a point where they don't want to be seen in public with me and then they'll go to college across the country and my house will be lonely. I'm trying to be adult about the fact that our lives will go back to a "normal" schedule and that I'll crave quality family time. 

Army Guy reports in tomorrow and school starts the first week of August...that'll help...right? :) I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...

Porter + PCSing = Something bad...ALWAYS

Let me start by saying I love this dog...he's so entertaining and loving and tolerant of his not as furry siblings...

BUT...

He doesn't PCS (aka move) well. Or I should say, Porter makes PCS's way more entertaining then they ever need to be.

Worst part of moving...

I've decided that military members should have their own license plates. Seriously. There should be a federally funded vehicle registration program. I mean if they make me put a sticker on the front of my car, why can't they also just issue me a plate and we'll call it good.

Let me explain my frustration with vehicle registration: 2005 Mustang Saleen...aka "the yellow car" or "the other woman" or "daddy's car!!!"

When we purchased the Saleen, our home of record was Texas. However, Texas requires a plate on the rear and front of the car. Army Guy immediately poo-poo'd drilling holes into the front of the Saleen for a license plate. As we were recent (like 2 months prior) life long residents of Oklahoma and his parents still lived there, we voted for Oklahoma tags on it. I created a personalized tag. All was good and right with the world. Then we found out that Oklahoma offers a military rate plate for people who are either stationed in Oklahoma or legal residents of Oklahoma residing out of state and we got a heavy discount on our renewal fee. Whoo!

So for 5 years, we had it registered in Oklahoma without any problems. Then Oklahoma decided that it didn't like us anymore. I'm sure it's a revenue thing, but I took it personally. :) They changed the law to say that you either have to be stationed in Oklahoma OR and out of state resident that pays state income tax. Well, when Army Guy commissioned he listed my parents in Texas as our home of record as our address because well it was--so we don't pay OK state income tax. However, Oklahoma Tax Commission didn't feel it was necessary to tell me this information until AFTER they'd cashed my tag renewal check. Imagine my surprise when I opened what was supposed to be the renewal sticker and found a letter saying 'oh, by the way, we changed the law and you owe us $75 more...." After a ranting phone call to OTC, I decided to register the Saleen in TN, our current location. We already have the  truck (banana boat) and the van (mom mobile) registered here because we purchased them here. TN does an awesome program that allows soldiers who reside in TN but don't pay state tax to TN, to pay a minimum amount to register their vehicles here--just bring in your LES with your renewal and all is good. Whoo! So now I own three vehicles that are all registered in the state we live in. Whoo!

Insert Army.

We are now headed to the west coast....to a state that has emission laws....with a car that most likely will NOT pass an emission test because Army Guy tweaked with it. Good times. After thinking that we could renew it a little early and buy ourselves a year to think about what we were going to do about it, I called TN DMV today to confirm that thinking. Yah, I was wrong. And evidently I'm a complete idiot for even thinking that I could renew it a few months early, according to the old woman's tone at the DMV....after she used a double negative...but whatever. Soooo, now in addition to all of our normal PCS stress I have to figure out what to do with the Saleen's tag.

My options are as follows:
A) do a renewal by mail for TN and *pray* they don't notice our BAH zip change....
B) change registration back to the great state of OK while we drive through there on our way west right before Memorial Day (aka the end of the month...WORST TIME EVER at DMV)...assuming they don't need proof of residency and resign myself to paying $85 per year to keep Saleen from having stickers/plates up front
C) register it in our legal state of residency-TX...hope it passes inspection (usually it does though since it's so pretty...) and put 2 stickers on windshield and tag in front and live with really crabby Army Guy...this isn't really a viable option...
D) Hope and pray it passes CA smog test (which I've JUST been informed it won't...again....by Army Guy...) and register it there...another not real viable option.

So here's my thing...if Army just passed a law/bill/thingy that says as a spouse I can now pick one state as my "home of record" instead of having to change EVERYTHING (drivers license, plates, etc) every time I move because the Army moved my husband, why can't Army streamline vehicle registration?

And I'm sure there's tons of reasons why not...state revenue, Army & State relations, etc....but right now, I don't care. I just want a federal GOV tag for my freakin yellow car so I don't have to work in the DMV in Oklahoma, where they just can't seem to grasp how military works, after 9 hours in the car with 3 kids, 2 dogs and 1 husband, only 1/3rd of the way into our voyage.

Random Rants of Army Kiddos

The other day Thing 2 had Strep and was prevented from doing all of the things she "just LOVED to do!!!" in a desperate attempt to get her to rest her body. Several hours after being banished to the couch, I was walking to the laundry room and noticed this on the chalk wall. 

Translation: "I don't like to be sick. Matt and Peyton get to play the Wii. I can't play on the computer. The only thing that I can do is to read Dr. Seuss books are Green Eggs and Ham, The Cat in the Hat, Ten Apples Up On Top, and ABC"

After taking a picture, uploading it to Facebook and snickering, I sat back and thought about how proud of her I am. I'm so immensely proud of her ability to express her feelings. 

Thing 1 had a little bit of a meltdown the other day after learning we were in fact moving and not staying here. And through the tears, he told me how he's excited to move, glad Army Guy doesn't have to deploy this Fall, but how he feels bad for his friends. Evidently, he has two best friends at school but one of them is moving next week and prior to us moving this wasn't too big of a deal for Thing 1, but now that we're also moving he's worried for his one friend that is left behind. And he's stressing TCAP testing. And as he sat there spewing all of this to me, I was thinking it's sad that he has to go through all of this, but he's so strong and I'm so lucky for that.

The kiddos ability to express their feelings (positive and negative) in a constructive manner is my proudest parent moment. Their lives are always in some state of random flux (positive and negative) that they are prime candidates to have significant mental health issues. Army is just now figuring this out and how to give them more support, which I'm glad that they're figuring this all out. But, in the meanwhile, we parents of those kiddos with parents deployed and in a constant roller coaster of Army life, have been doing the best that we can. And it's nice to see that they can say "you know what this sucks today" instead of acting out at school, falling into the wrong crowd, violence, etc.

I'd love to tell you there's some brilliant method to my madness, but nope. It's just survival. It's understanding they are involved in this as much as we are, instead of thinking of them as minions. :) They get a voice, they get an opinion because they don't always get a choice.

And I have to remind myself of this as Sam-I-Am enters the "no!!!!" phase.....

Army Guy and Life Lesson #42

You know I love my husband. LOVE him. But sometimes, I worry about him. 

Re-integration is a beast and it rears it's ugly head in the most randomest of ways. We've been VERY fortunate to not have significant mental/physical health issues to deal with. I praise God for that every day and say a prayer for those are who and their families. 

Re-integration always bits me in the butt in the whole "I can do it myself" way. I feel like a toddler wandering around stomping my feet every time Army Guy says "oh here, let me do that". I know he's being helpful and I really do appreciate it. But there are sometimes when I'd rather suffer for 10 mins trying to open the jar then have him open it in 3 seconds. Partly because there's that whole look he gives after he opens it in 3 seconds and I've been wrangling with it swearing like a sailor for the last 10 minutes. It's a subtle look, but after being married for 10 years and knowing him for 15 years, I know the look of "nanny nanny boo boo" when I see it. But mainly because I'm not always sure when he'll be home to open bottle and I just need to know that I can do it myself. 

Yesterday, I was having one of those battle with a newly purchased bottle of olive oil. The protective wrap wouldn't come off and there was lots of swearing going on. Army Guy was in the kitchen messing with car parts and had his wow fancy, sharp knife with him. I should've just reached for the band-aids at that point. And as I'm literally opening my mouth to say "you know I wouldn't take a knife to that...I'll take care of it..." it happened. Yah, knife slip, finger slice, husband not saying a word but death grip on bleeding finger. Crap. I get him to stand up and hold finger over sink to look at it and realize yah, it's gonna need stitches. Crap. Call to the wife to see if she can watch kiddos and off to ER we go. 

Sign in, triage, hurry up and wait. By this time, Army Guy is in pretty good pain. So, being in the ER with a sick kiddo is one kind of awful experience, but being in the ER with a 5'10", 185, solid guy who's gasping for air randomly because of pain is way worse. Finally get back to bed and get awesome nurse/PA Student team who announce that yes stitches will be needed, they'll do an x-ray, and they'll get him some pain meds. 45 minutes later, pain meds show up and off to x-ray he goes. 45 minutes later, nurse and PA come back and say everything is clear,so they'll clean wound, deaden finger and start stitches. Crap. Army Guy HATES needles. Big H, Big A, Big T, Big E. He tolerates them well, he just literally gets cranky at the sight of needles. At this point, I seriously think I should make a break for the door. But I decide to be the good wife and hang out. Brownie point for me. 

So the needles come out and the deadening shots ensue. 2 on each side. And we all make funny banter about his pain and this somehow being payback for me pushing 3 children from my loins while we wait for finger to numb up. After the appropriate time, nurse chick barely touches the end of injured finger and Mike still visibly flinches. No big deal, just more deadening shots. Yay. More needles. So 4 more shots. More time waiting. At this point, Army Guy decides he'll just take the stitches over more numbing shots. Right. Who in their right freakin mind decides they'd rather feel stitches. Sigh...my husband. Several years ago, he smushed the end of his finger off (different finger) and in a failed attempt to re-attach it (he can only count to 9 3/4 now...hahaha), they gave him 21 shots of deadening stuff and ended up feeling stitches after the 4th stitch. After listening to him tell the nurse that after his 5th shot of deadening stuff, I once again ponder the idea of making a break for it. 

Nurse consults with PA and they decide to do one more round in the knuckle and give it 10 minutes to numb up. At the 7 minute mark the nurse (and I use that term VERY loosely) who walked us back to the bed 3 hours ago, walks by, sees us waiting and says "they still haven't stitched you up yet???" This should've been a a clue on his powers of observation. Big Red Flag kind of warning. We both mumble something about waiting for it to deaden and "nurse" says "oh well, let me go check with PA and I'll get this taken care of for you guys". He walks off and we breathe a sigh of relief because last time PA was in, he said he'd do the stitches. Whew! "Nurse" gets out the door and we hear 'I was just coming to look for you, do you want me to stitch him up so he can go?'. Crap. So they come in and PA says "well did it deaden up anymore?" and "nurse" replies "oh yah, he's ready to go". And then in less then 3 seconds, PA is out the door and "nurse" is sticking needle in NOT deaden finger. I will say that yes, at that point we should've said "hey, STOP!" but the reality is Army Guy was soooo ready to be done that he didn't say anything thinking it'd take all of 3 seconds and it probably would've taken 3 seconds if we'd had the nurse/PA team that we'd been so lucky to have up to this point. But no, we got "nurse" guy who had to stick Army Guy SEVERAL times to get each stitch started. 4 stitches later, I'm thinking Army Guy has earned some heroic medal for not killing the "nurse". The "nurse" was completely oblivious to Army Guy flinches, holding his breath, and foot movement that indicated immense pain. The "nurse" announces he's done, he'll get it cleaned up, have PA look at it and we'll be out the door. Thank God. At least the worst is over!!! Right. I've seen power washers be less abrasive then this "nurse" with scrubby brush. So I get that Army Guy was going to take these stitches even if he felt them, but yah, the obnoxious scrubbing to remove betadine was a bit much. So I say "Ummm, yah, you might want to be a little softer that finger isn't as numb as you think it is" and he says "Oh, I'm not scrubbing where I gave him stitches.". Sigh. PA comes in, signs off on stitches, we get bag of goodies, instructions to keep it dry and have stitches removed in 10 days, obligatory motrin and out the door we go.

So now here we sit. Army Guy got a new computer game because well he can't play PS3 without all of the use of both hands. And through all of this it made me think. A)I really thought the first time I'd be at the ER with stitches would've been with Thing 2. B)At 32, why would you think a knife would be an acceptable tool to open a bottle C) There's going to be lots more stomping, swearing and non-opening bottle frustration around here. D) No matter what Army Guy says, spending 5 hours at ER followed by a trip to Taco Bell, does NOT count as a date. 

Welcome Home ArmyGuy

Army Guy is officially done with the WORST DEPLOYMENT EVER (and from this point on, it shall be known as that...but you have to say it all echo-y to get the best effect). We're waiting on orders to be 110% done with this stage in our life, but being stateside is one step closer to that. And I'll take every inch I can get. We knew he was coming home over a week ago, but didn't make a huge announcement about it. Partly because I didn't actually believe it. But mostly because he's coming home all by himself--the unit isn't coming in for a bit and part of our old unit will be coming in even later then that. Add onto that, friends who's husbands just left or are leaving in the next 30 days, it just didn't seem right to shout out to the world "MINE'S HOME!!! AND EARLY!!!". And I try to not beat myself up with Army Guilt because even though Army Guy is home early, there's a decent chance that he'll get into this program that will have him back out the door in 90 days-ish for a short school and then deployed again. I'm choosing the Ostrich Method of coping with that. It's been successful so far, but I digress. Anywho, so there will be those who say "you know every deployment is different, and you should be glad he's home and you should shout it out to the world" and there will be those who say "you suck.". And I feel both sides of that.

Then there's this whole other side. A somber side, that I don't like to wrap my brain around but I'm going to go there all because of a show on Lifetime...damn Lifetime. Tonight is the premiere of "Coming Home" a show where soldiers surprise family members upon their return from deployment. Lots of tears. Lots of happiness. Lots of smiles. Our current post is seeing a lot of returning soldiers and so Lifetime camped out for a while filming some of the soldiers returns and whatnot. From what I understand, you had to apply to be on the show and then it went from there. And I'm 100% that those who applied and got selected are glad that they did it, but for me, "Coming Home" is a bit much. And Army Guy's homecoming made it a bit much for me.

See, Army Guy didn't really have set plans for a return--it was pretty much "here's your release, good luck..." The first flight out of county was a Hero Flight, a flight with a Fallen Soldier. So while my Army Guy is bouncing out of country early, there's a family somewhere getting the worse news ever. He said it was an incredibly somber flight for all on the plane...rightfully so. Then his entry point into the States was at Dover where they were performing 3 Dignified Transfers on a Saturday. 3 Fallen home for in an unanticipated way. 3 families who had visions of different welcome home ceremonies/events. 3 families who don't get the Lifetime opportunity.

When we went to pick Army Guy up from airport, I didn't tell the kiddos who we were picking up, I just said I had a friend flying in late. My usually insanely inquisitive kids didn't seem to ask too many questions-"have we met your friend before, where is your friend staying, why can't your friend be here before 10:30pm?". I answered as vaguely as possible and off we went to pick up "my friend" from the airport well after their bedtime. And so in an effort not to tip the kiddos off, we waited patiently (some more then others...cough*Thing2*cough) by baggage claim. And I recorded the kiddos with my camera in an attempt to capture the fact that I could actually surprise them. So as people finally start coming down the escalators, I see boots. And then ACUs. And I'm watching kiddos who are watching the same boots and ACUs and not having any reaction to them and I start panicking. "Crap! What if the kids don't recognize him? What if they're all like 'oh hey dad, we're waiting on mom's friend...' What if they say 'Dad! Why are you home?'" and at just that moment, Thing 1 recognizes it's Army Guy, yells "DADDY!" and takes off and I just laughed and for a brief moment we were the only ones in the airport.

So I sit down tonight to watch "Coming Home" in excitement because well I want to see how we, Military Peeps, are going to be presented to the rest of the world. I want the world to see us during one of our most happiest times. I want the world to know that while our life is hard, it's rewarding. And then the dryer let me know it was done. Sigh. So while I'm folding laundry in the laundry room, I'm listening to the show still on in living room and am a sobby mess. Thankfully Army Guy is snoring on the couch as he is a "why are you crying at the tv" kind of guy. After finishing the laundry, I start "Coming Home" all over again and get about 5 minutes into it when I realize while it's a good premise for a show and I'm insanely glad Lifetime is presenting it, I don't think I'll be watching it after all. Because for as much as I want the world to see us during our most happiest times, I also want that to be MY moment. OUR moment. Not me, Army Guy, kiddos and a camera crew of 30 with an eventual broadcast to millions. That's our special time. That's my time to be big strong and sniffly because Thing 1 recognized his Dad and ran through a crowd of people without even looking twice, because Thing 2 gave her Dad a giant hug and then promptly reminded him that she needed hinges for a project they worked on over R&R, and because Sam-I-Am smiled big and laughed with the other kiddos when her Dad took her pluggie away. Those are MY moments. OUR moments. OUR memories.

But those are also moments that I never once take for granted. Those are moments that I know I'm lucky to have. Those are moments that I know families of Fallen Soldiers would give anything to have and that makes those moments all the more precious and private to me.

Even if we are standing in the middle of a crowded airport.

Change is a constant pain in my....

I know all too well that change is a constant and I enjoy change immensely. What I don't enjoy is knowing that I have change coming, but not knowing an arrival window for said change. It makes me feel like I'm just floating around, not able to start any tasks because I'm not sure if I'll be able to complete them. It makes me feel all out of whack with the world. It also makes me get all caught up on my DVR because well there's no point in doing anything else but sitting around watching tv...

Army Guy is currently in flux with his assignment.

For My Parents...

I was going to send you a paper note, but then I realized I had too much to say (and I can backspace on the computer and I ran out of white-out...).

Thank you.

Thank you for all of the things that you taught me as a child, but more importantly thank you for mentoring me as an adult.

Thank you for letting our successes and failures be OUR successes and failures.

Thank you for letting us be adults.

Thank you for not feeling entitled to anything.

Thank you for teaching us when to be the better person and when it's not worth it.

Thank you for be understanding.

Thank you for answering late Friday night calls from me and early Saturday morning calls from Army Guy.

Thank you for playing board games with Thing 1 and Thing 2 with corrected rules that don't make sense.

Thank you for appreciating the uniqueness of each one of the grandchildren.

Thank you for enjoying our insane life.

Thank you for letting us just be us.

Thank you for talking us off the ledge.

Thank you for asking questions instead of assuming you know how we feel or what we want.

Thank you for not attaching strings.

Thank you for teaching us that life is a constant learning lesson--that at no point, do any of us know it all.

Thank you for making mistakes and teaching us how to admit we made mistakes.

Thank you for being you.

Love,
Me, Army Guy, Thing 1, Thing 2 and Sam-I-Am.

Expectations, Faith and Life Lessons...

When we moved here almost 2 years ago, I had such high expectations. Big.Mistake.

Shopping Genetics

Army Guy and I are shoppers. However, we are VERY different types of shoppers.