I'm back. I'm here. I know, I know...I've been horrible about blogging. What's the deal? Is my schedule really that crazy that I can't fit in the time to share with all of you every detail of my life? Nah, not really unfortunately. I suppose we could just blame laziness. Or the fact that come quiet time at night, my brain ceases to function. Yeah that sounds good. We'll roll with that one.
So what have we been up to since a tree tried to take out my shed? I am happy to report no more freak storms have caused any straw that broke the back nightmares. It's been pretty damn quiet around here. Alyssa and Jules both completed their weeks of camp which I have to say, although the ride was a bit much day after day, really made time fly! It made me realize how much easier these last few weeks would be if we actually had our soccer and school schedule to follow. Some people told me summer would make the last part of deployment fly.
They lied.
I have actually come to the realization that our daughters are like little natural disasters that blow through and leave a path of destruction. And I am like FEMA coming in behind them to deal with the aftermath. I find myself envious of working moms right now. Besides the obvious break they get from their darling lil kiddos, they also leave their home each morning, drop their kids at daycare and arrive home to the house the way they left it. Being a stay at home mom with kids home during the summer? Well, hell, I wake up in the morning to a spotless house but by the time the coffee steam manages to melt the sleep that has encrusted around my eyes, it's like a tornado ripped through my home leaving clothing, toys, handprints and pet fur all over the place.
Now that camp is over, I am finding we have an excruciating amount of downtime to kill in the next few weeks. I am finding that we are practically living at our local YMCA now. I still don't like running on the treadmill though. My favorite spot is in the woods utterly alone with nothing but nature around me but since that is undoable, the treadmill is an option. But its the pool where we spend most of our time. It's made up like a mini water park so I can plop my ass on the side of the pool and easily watch Alyssa and Madilyn do their thing. Luckily neither of them expect or really even ask me to join them. Sure I'll get in sometimes to help Lysse with her flips or to dunk Madilyn since she finds it hilarious to go under water and then scream, "AGAIN!" as she tries to blink water from her eyes, but mainly I like to take a spot on the side of the pool and indulge in my latest secret game--spot the boob job. I never knew..I never knew there were so, so many fake breasts out there. And I've found I've become quite good at spotting them. Either because the chick is so incredibly tiny and her chest is so incredibly large that it looks like two softballs were shoved into her chest cavity or because they are so big and somehow manage to defy gravity. Natural breasts that large just don't stay put that way in two triangles tied together with floss. They move. Oh, don't get me wrong. I have no issues with boob jobs. Hell, if it didn't scare the utter poop out of me, I might even think about it a bit more seriously myself, but I gotta question why some chicks don't even attempt to go for a natural look. Granted, some of the "girls" might not have settled down yet--too "new" and all that..not broken in yet. But others....wow. Just wow. 'Course when one of those big ole sets settled down next to me today, I almost asked if the lady would move. She was casting a shadow and like totally killing my tan. My favorites though are the senior citizen chicks that have sagging skin all over and then breasts that are standing at attention. There comes an age where you really should have them removed and just accept nature.
This wouldn't be a complete entry without atleast one embarrasing moment and one downright puke inducing moment, right? So let's move on.
It was roughly two weeks ago when I realized a couple of things. One, I am way too predictable--which is something I don't like. And two, my neighbors must have forgotten they live next to a Jersey native. It was sometime in the morning a little while back when I went out front to weed my front garden bed. I still molest and whisper sweet nothings to my green darlings every single day, and so I went out to make sure no nasty grass was growing amongst my beauties. As I approached the flowerbed, I saw it. A snake. A freaking snake. Something I've managed to avoid this whole deployment since breaking up the limbless menois a trois last Fall. Although the coloring was a bit off from what I have seen before, there was no mistaking it. It was a snake. In my garden. Hiding somewhat under one of my larger plants. Granted, he wasn't really moving but come on, I'm not an idiot. I wasn't going to get close enough to see if it was truly alive or dead. Nope, instead I went inside and called my next door neighbors. My best friend and her husband. I called them and asked if the husband could come outside and help me out. I wasn't about to remove this thing by myself. They, of course, agreed and said they would meet me outside. I grabbed a camera and headed back out front. They came slowly from their home and very cautiously approached the flowerbed with me. As I was beginning to lean down, the husband jumped down, grabbed the nasty thing and flung it at me.
How does one react to having a snake flung at them? They jump back and then begin to profusely curse and threaten their beloved neighbors. Yeah, ok, fine they got me fair and square. It was a fake snake. Which they bought for $2 at Target. Which they then placed in my gardenbed at 11pm the previous night. They knew I'd weed the next day. And they knew I'd call them when I found a snake.
Sure it was kinda funny I suppose, but was it really smart on their part? Considering my vengeful nature and that they want me in the delivery room this Fall when they birth their first child, probably not. No, probably not very smart.
Okie dokie now...time to put down your snack and make sure your stomach is empty. This next one is a doozy. It's one I probably shouldn't even be admitting considering I am OCD about the cleanliness of my home and yard. But what the hell?
Again, about two weeks ago, I went to throw out the trash one morning when I found our outside city trash bin covered in crawling little white worm like things Oh dear Lord..maggots. Freakin maggots. Hundreds of them covering the entire inside and outside of my trashcan. I just sat there shaking my head kind of like when I found the tree through our shed. I couldn't laugh. I couldn't cry. But hell, I could curse. Alot.
I tried to kill some but found it a totally futile effort. So I took the can and put it in the shade over by the woods. It was about all I could do until trash day.
Once trash day came and our can was empty of bags, I took a peek inside. There was, no lie, about 6 inches of gunk at the bottom. Foul smelling sludge. Cat litter remnants that had fallen through ripped bags, loose trash, yard debris and the breeding ground for the maggots. I dug out the high powered hose, the Dawn dish detergent, gloves, a shovel and trashbags and got to work. It took about an hour but when I was done, you could probably have dropped a donut in that sucker, dug it out, blown on it and ate it. I don't do anything in life half ass...trash can cleaning included. But hand's down, other than when the kids have thrown up in their car seats during a trip, this was *the* grossiest thing I have ever had to do. Ever. Period. I told Matt flat out that "I am not getting paid enough to do this shit."
There really isn't any transitional sentence that I could possibly come up with to go from that last paragraph to the next one, is there?
I have been reading still, of course. Still averaging a book every two days or so. I've been working on the Anita Blake series still and only have two left now. I have 15 under my belt. I will say, it took me a while to get into the series eventhough it was wonderfully done but now? Now it's like a whole world to me, and I wish I could bring a character or two to life. Of course what I would do with them after that point, I'm not sure, but they are so well developed that I just am dying to see them come to life atleast on screen. I am taking a short break and managed to blow through Nora Robert's Lawless which I really enjoyed. It was a little predictable but again, I am not one that really minds that much. It was an old west story which I wasn't sure I would dig, but I did. It worked. Today I hit the library and besides picking up Anita's 16th book, I also borrowd Jacob by Jacquelyn Frank and it looks like just pure trash--I can't wait! And (drumroll) the newest Black Dagger Brotherhood book--Lover Avenged--by JR Ward. I was so anxious to start reading it that I almost put Madilyn down for a nap at 10am. I managed to hold off, but it was difficult.
What's coming up in the near future? Just lots of working out, swimming, sun tanning (it takes serious dedication to tan Irish skin) and my next Dr's appt. I'll be getting felt up again on Tuesday. The breast lump is still there so I know she'll just put in a referral for the military hospital so I can be seen there. Which means another day or two later, I can call and make an appt for an u/s on a date that might possibly fall within this fiscal year. They sure know how to drag this out, don't they?
But for now, in the very immediate future, I'm going to head outside to coo at my plants, read on the porch while the kids play and then settle in with Jules, a bowl of Kettle Corn and Ferris Bueller's day off. Life isn't all bad during a deployment, but it's just never quite the same. I'm still looking for the fast forward button on this life remote.
And here are just a couple reasons why my father rocks.....
Have I mentioned how much I love being a Navy wife?
Matt is out enjoying Italy this weekend. Me? Oh I'm just here at the house doing a little storm damage repair.
Is anyone even out there anymore? Anyone given up on me yet? Anyone give up on the blog yet? Good LORD, has it been a while since I posted!
Where to start? Where to start....
Ok, first and foremost--the lump. THE lump. Is it still there? Yep. Has it changed? Nope. Do I still check it obsessively? Not as much as I did, but, yes. My next appt is in about two weeks and I know they will be doing an u/s at this rate. But hey, atleast then I can have conclusive evidence of what this thing is. I'm just hoping they do it in house at the military clinic and I don't have a hospital ordeal to endure that will end up running into Matt's homecoming. If I have to be made to suffer through this alone, then I just want it done and over with by the time he comes back so I can stop worrying about it.
Speaking of homecoming, we have broken the 5 week mark. Actually in a few days, we can say we have officially "only" one month left. But don't say it...don't you dare freakin say it. Don't say, "Oh wow..only a month left!" You have been forewarned. You say it and I'll deck ya. I've had too many well meaning people utter those annoying words to me lately and you guessed it, almost none of them are military. They fall into the category of people that "just don't get it". You don't have to be civilian to fall into that category though, by the way. The reverse is true as well. I've had some civvys that have shocked me with their understanding of our life at the moment. But let's see if I can explain this. Plain and simple, at the 6 week mark, the 5 week mark and heck even the 4 week mark, it still feels like you have an eternity left. It might as well be the original 28 to 30 weeks where we began. Irrational? Yea, absolutely, but you can't help how you feel and that is the way it feels. However, there is one area where I do disagree with many military wives. I've been told by fellow wives that they feel the last week or two are the worst. For me, that is when I finally realize this whole nightmare will actually end. The last week or two is a cake walk and is actually a really exciting time of getting ready, buying last minute "welcome home" presents and decorating the house. It is these weeks prior to that time that are utter hell.
On another topic of homecoming, a source of much anxiety is the homecoming outfit. Oh the military member gets off real easy. They get to just throw on an impressive uniform. The rest of us meeting them on the other side of the pier? We get to sweat, angonize and lose sleep at night over what the hell we're going to wear. Why? Why not just throw on a little number from the closet and call it a day? Because when you have not seen your spouse for 7 months--when the last time you saw them you had just put away the Christmas decorations and now you're sporting a bathing suit and about to do back to school shopping--you want to look good. Not just good but great. Not just great even but drop dead freakin hot. However, hmm let's see how to put this for those that do not know me well. I am not Donna Reed. There, that covers it. I will not be waiting on that pier in some lil floral number circa 1950's with a pearl necklace and sensible one inch pumps. It is just not me and somehow, I doubt Matt would appreciate that one very much. After much shopping and even a hit and miss with online shopping, I have settled on an outfit. I am still not sold on shoes yet but that is the last little bit to put together. What does the outfit look like? Well, unfortunately, I can't say. Oh I have pictures and a very apt description ready to share with you all, but I can't. Why? Because Matt has internet access and he may check in and stumble across this. (Hi, honey! :) And if you find you just can not wait I post homecoming pictures, drop me an email or private message and I'll send some pictures along.
But I'll post pictures from the big day so eventually you all will see what I settled on after much agony. I did momentarily worry that I was balancing very precariously on the edge of slutville but I have been assured by some friends that the outfit passes the test and will be acceptable for the pier. Here's to hoping. For the sake of my more innocent minded readers and the simple fact that my family reads this, I will not share Matt's thoughts on what I should wear that day when we first see each other again.
What have I been up to since I last posted? Well, our July fourth was a quiet one. No trips across the border for fireworks, no BBQ with friends, no loud music and cold beer, and no watching Matt burn himself lighting sparklers for the kids, but in a desperate attempt not to screw up too badly, I did take the girls to the beach and then joined our cul de sac of neighbors for a small firework show. Then I took the kids out back and we did our own sparklers. It didn't feel right without Matt--holidays never do--but I think I managed to give the girls some good memories.
Now this is where it gets interesting and a little surprising. I took a trip this past week. As in I managed to pack up, haul the kids and puking dog into the van and take a trip. I know, I know. It's shocking. We actually were scheduled to spend 2 weeks in NJ with family. It's a trip I've done many, many times on my own. It's not easy, but I've done it plenty of times. But I canceled it at the last minute. The girls were counting down the days until we left, the family in NJ were all waiting and I canceled it. I'm not sure anyone-friends or family-knew until then just how bad off I really was. I am sure everyone thought I was just exaggerating or feeling sorry for myself. But it is what it is. I literally did not have it in me to go. I was actually asked what was so difficult about doing the trip. What could possibly make it that stressful? Hmm where to start..the barely potty trained toddler? The 80lbs puking dog? The fact I would have three houses to visit so there's packing, unpacking, packing, unpacking, packing..oh you get the idea. I might have managed to get up there but I am pretty damn sure I would not have made it back. I am pretty damn sure I would have made the news as the crazy lady who was parked sideways on the highway refusing to move and screaming at the cops, "NO, Officers! YOU get back in that freakin car and drive with them! I'm staying right freakin here!" So between that and the fact the whole potential trip fell right around the time I discovered my lump, I had to admit defeat and not go.
I did, however, want to make it up to the girls, so I shot my brother an email to see if he and his family would be around for a quick visit. It's a shorter distance, only one house worth of visiting and just seemed, overall, much more doable. We headed there earlier this week and arrived home on Friday. Max threw up only once, Madi stayed dry the whole time, and other than getting lost when we first started out and being 2 seconds from just driving home and crying, it went surprisingly well. It was well worth the traveling to spend some precious time with my fast growing niece and to hang out with family for a few days. I actually went there with three children and came home with two. My parents asked to take one of the kids. Now the question is, which one? Which one did they take off my hands?
Unfortunately, they took Jules--aka my right hand man, my second in command, the one reason I've retained a thread of sanity this entire deployment. I can't begin to explain how much Jules helps me. Ok, granted, she doesn't always jump in to clean or help with her younger sisters on her own, but the point is, if I ask, she does it. She always steps up when I ask or when she sees me about to lose it. She allows me to go running a couple miles every other day, she allows me to sometimes sneak out during Madi's nap and run a few local errands with just Alyssa. She gives me a set of incredibly mature and insightful ears so I don't feel like I am carrying on a preschool conversaton or talking to a wall. So by taking her, it made the next week of my life a potential hell. Actually, it made the ride home a potential hell since Jules is the one that makes it so I don't run off the road. She's in charge of the movies, snacks, and directing Max's vomit. But how could I deny her going to spend time with her grandparents simply because I needed her that much at home? I have my selfish moments, but this was not going to be one of them. So I am grossly handicapped here by her being gone, but she is having a great time, so I'll survive. I might be drunk off my ass by the time she gets back, but I'll survive.
So what have I been up while Jules is off vacationing? Friday was just spent unpacking and settling in after the trip. Saturday we ran some errands and then after some sun tanning out back and weight lifting, I gathered up the girls and went to <gasp> the mall. On a Saturday night. Good Lord, what go into me?! I hate the mall. I hate it even more on a weekend night. But I dragged the kids around every store I could and then treated them to dinner and playground time. It was actually a bit odd to be out and about on a Saturday night. Normally I am tucked into bed and reading by 9pm. Pathetic but very, very true.
Today I said, "screw it" and went up to our local YMCA to sign up for a month. They just completed a multi million dollar renovation inside and have an amazing little water park/pool outside. We did a one month trial last summer and adored the pool. But eventhough I had full rights to the entire facility then as a guest, I just never felt right about using anything else since we were not paying. But this time? Oh hell no. I paid out the wazoo just to have one month's worth of use so that means if I want to use the gym, I will. If I want to hit the hot tub, I will. And if I feel like dumping my kids in the daycare center for 2 hours each day so I can go read in the coffe lounge then hit the sauna, I will. Happily. It was an obnoxious, obscene even, amount of money but I am thinking it'll be worth it to just be able to kill this last hellish month before Matt arrives home. We jumped right in today and hit the pool for a while then after Madi's nap, we drove back up and I put them in the daycare room (which looks like a mini version of chuck-e-cheese) so I could go run a couple miles. That is something I can't do otherwise since Jules is gone and I was missing it desperately.
A little sidenote...this was the first time in 10 years that I have stepped foot in a gym. I am not a gym person. I am quite content to run outside in the neighborhood and then do free weights and exerises at home. I do not like being on display or being self conscious or worrying that I am flashing someone while I am stretching. However, I was happy to find that getting back on the treadmill was like getting back on a bike and besides the one older creepy looking dude that looked a little too long at my ass (hello? There are mirrored walls. I can seee yooouuu, buddy boy), it wasn't too bad. I still prefer to run outside where when it's 95 degrees out, you can get in not only a good work out but also a sauna treatment, but it wasn't bad overall. However, I took one look into the male dominated weight room and went screaming in the opposite direction. Nope, not doing it. You couldn't pay me to saddle up on the ass crunch machine in a room full of men. I'll just do my lounges and squats at home, thank you very much. I might not be able to bounce a quarter off my rear end but my pride and diginity will still be in tact.
You might also be wondering how the sisters are doing. Mainly Alyssa and Madilyn. I was asked recently how our summer break was going. I answered, "It's hell." I was asked why. I replied, "Because they fight all day long...15-freakin-hours-a-day". Then I was asked what they fought about. To which I snorted, "Everything. They fight over everything. They are sisters." That pretty much sums that up. However, this week offers a bit of a break for me since Alyssa will be in a five day long survival camp. From 9am until 1pm each day I will be down to one kid. Unfathomable.
Lastly, have I still been reading? Absolutely. I can't live without it at this point. I just haven't been doing summaries because I've been plugging along through all the Anita Blake's so I figured once I finished the last one, I'll give a final review of the series. Although I did just pick up the second Kresely Cole's Immortals After Dark book for a quick down and dirty read. Just a quickie before I head on to the next Anita. And yes, yes I am still trying my hand at my own homegrown short story smut. Although I am finding it hard to be creative, especially in a romantic writing way, when my three year old is treating me like a jungle gym and I tend to be beckoned to refill a juice cup just as my main characters are starting to remove clothing. But the experiences have proven to be very good writing exercises and I'm starting to wonder if there is a market for this kind of thing. You know, "place your order for custom written porn". Hmm...it may be a limited market, but who knows? I could probably get a hell of a start by just hitting up the local Navy wives.
And finally, to end this lil novel, I would like to sit here and say I'll post again before too long but that could end up being a lie so I won't bother. Hell, I can't even promise that before Jules gets back, I will still be able to compose a sentence, so until next time...thanks to everyone that has checked in on me or sent me well wishes and happy thoughts as well as those that are still checking the site every day eventhough I haven't been writing. You all are wonderful.
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