And That's Why We Moved Here

Moving from California was hard for us.  Or course it was physically difficult.  I doubt that anyone would think packing up everything you own and moving it yourself across country with three children would be easy.  Far from easy.  I would tell you that it is far less than pleasant, in fact.  Mentally, it was challenging, deciding what would go, what would be given away, how to pack what and where, and making sure we were well within our time line.  On top of all that, though, was the emotional factor.  California was really home to us, at least The Girls and I.  I don't think My Husband ever loved it like we did, and let me assure you we did, but he had lived there, at least when we wasn't deployed, for the last eight years as well.
The thing is, sometimes life gives you choices.  In our case, it was a choice that had to be made quickly.  When the opportunity rose, My Husband and I chose to move our family thousands of miles away, to an area that neither of us had ever lived in before, to try to make a better life for our family.
We chose to move here for a couple of reasons.
First, there was a job.  That happens to be a big deal right now.  He was retiring from the military, and while there were other jobs that looked like they would work in California, they weren't in San Diego, where we were.  They were pretty close.  None of them seemed perfect, though.  Then, this location popped up, gave him a call, and said they wanted him immediately.  Seriously, they said he needed to there in about a week and a half.  That was impressive.  Furthermore, they were totally impressed with him.
The location seemed ok.  The area looked decent.  Not a small town, but not huge, either.
The kicker, though, and what really clenched it for us, was that all of our families would be close.  His family was about two and a half hours away.  My sister was two hours in another direction.  My mother, brother, and the few other family members I actually want to speak to are about three hours in yet another direction.  That put us just about smack dab in the middle of everyone.  With three children to travel with, being in the middle of everyone seemed like the easiest place to be.
So far, I would say that is correct.  In the very few months that we have been in this house, my sister has come in twice, my mother twice, and we have gone to see all of them once each.  That means we have already seen more family than we have in the past few years.  This past week was Fall Break for The Girls at school.  We had a full week, and I would say that we used it to it's fullest.  We took the first weekend, and drove up to see My Husband's family.  We went to a unbelievable pumpkin patch.  The kids got to spend a ton of time with their cousin.  We got to hang out with my Sister-In-Law, which was nice.  Then, they got to spend some great time with their grandparents.  We had a fun few days.  After that, we came home to work on a few very important things here.  First, there was a science project to complete.  The Big One needed to make a model of a plant cell.  She and I spent a few days working on that, with me mostly guiding, but helping out as needed.  Second, there were Halloween decorations to start.  We love Halloween.  Decorating is a big deal for us, now that we have an actual yard to decorate.  We only got a small start, putting up the first part of our cemetery in the yard, and two of our inflatables, but at least we got started.  There was also a leaf or two, or two thousand, that needed to be taken care of.  We five bags of leaves just from the driveway, and one side of our curb (we have a corner lot with two curbs to take care of).
Once we were done here, we drove three hours in the opposite direction as our first trip, and we to go see my family.  It was also awesome.  We didn't do a lot, but we got to hang out, and that was fantastic.  The Girls got to see their other cousin, The Dangerous One, and play.  We went to my brother's house for dinner one night.  They had a Nerf war with them.  The Big One spent all night loving on, aka torturing, one of their cats.  It was seriously great.  My Sister came in, and almost every one was there.  That usually only happens once a year on Thanksgiving.  So, getting to do it on just a random weekend, was so incredibly special to me, it was just awesome.
Being able to just see our loved one, and finally getting to let the girls really be with their families, makes all the hurt of missing the ones I love, my chosen family back in San Diego, and  my home in general, dealing with all the things that are so much harder for me when living in the south, and really the Bible Belt, so much better.  This is why we moved here.  For the love, for the family.  I'm glad we did.

Have I Told You I HATE Cancer?

In case I haven't mentioned it lately, I hate cancer.  Actually, I f***ing hate cancer.  Really.  I do.
My family has a terrible history of cancer.  On my mom's side, I think that is pretty much all we die from.  Old age must be pissed, because it never gets a chance to be the one to claim us.  Nope. Cancer always manages to get there first.
Both of my parents are cancer surviors.  My dad just finished his rounds of medication to kill all the cancer that they found on his head and in his neck.  My mom is a breast cancer survivor.
Now, we just found out that one of my aunts, on my mom's side, has breast cancer.  I love this aunt.  I even happen to like her, which with that family isn't actually all that common even though I have about 20 aunts and uncles on that side.  This particular aunt already deals with enough.  She has two artifical valves in her heart.  She has a pace maker.  She has it rough.  So, cancer really is an ugly thing to throw in that mix.  I know that chemotherapy can damage your heart, and hers couldn't take that.  Instead of all that, the Dr has advised her to have a mastectomy.  Possibly a double one.
All I can say is that I hate cancer.  I hate it.  I hate what it does to the people I love.  I hate what it does to anyone.
One of my goals in life is to participate in the Breast Cancer Three Day. I will.  I want to do it next year, with My Sister who wants to as well.  It will take time for me to be ready for that, and lots of time to raise the money, but so worth it.  I want to do anything I can to kick cancer's ass long before it even thinks it can get to my girls and I.  No.  I want old age to finally win out, and claim us, and nothing else.

Much Love To The Elves of The World

This is the second Christmas that we have ever spent with my husband deployed.  I suppose in 12 years, I should actually consider myself lucky this is only the second.
It is also fitting, I suppose.  He missed The Big One's first Christmas, and now he is missing The Littlest One's first Christmas.  He missed our first Christmas as a family, and now our last Christmas as a military family.
While that may in some morose way be poetic, it is absolutely in no way comforting, and doesn't assist me in making this a magical holiday.  Quite the opposite.
I am very grateful for my Mom, who came home with me for a week after Thanksgiving to help me get started.  With her, I managed to get the tree up, stocking hung, house partially decorated, and start some of my shopping.
Other than that, I have had to get this all together myself.  This is a lot of work.  It takes a ton of planning.  I have done a ton of shopping online.  Thank you, Amazon for giving Amazon Mom members free prime accounts for up to the first year.  It has been a life and wallet saver.  I am pretty sure I should bake something for all the delivery people who have come to my door over and over and over again this year.  If they weren't so busy, we should all be on a first name basis.  Actually, I'm quite sure they all know my name by heart, after seeing it on so many packages.
I have done a ton of shopping on the dl.  I managed to sneak stocking stuffers in under bags of plastic straws and boxes of baby wipes.  I have even whispered to people at registers, asking them to keep certain purchases on the dl as well, and having them quickly double wrap things with a serious poker face on.  To those people, I am thankful.

I have managed to get us to exactly where we normally are the day before Christmas, maybe even a little further ahead since i have been wrapping at night.  We are as ready for Christmas as we can be.  There are two gifts for both sets of parents, things I am making, that will go out a little late, but parents are usually pretty understanding people, and hopefully they will know we love them, and won't be too upset about the late arrival.  In the grand scheme of things, if those are our only casualties, I will be ecstatic.
Of course, there will be tears on Christmas day.  Lots of them.  Missing your spouse on Christmas is hard.  Missing your dad has got to be worse.  The Girls are generally pretty good about it, but we have had some hard moments.  The Big Little One cried at the dinner table the other night.   She was telling me all about what was going to happen on Christmas.  There was a huge lead up of activity, with a culmination of "And then Daddy will come home" after which I had to break her heart by telling her again that it won't happen.  We got through it, though.
So, I'm working on making this the best Christmas it can be.  No Dad.  No other family.  Just us.  I promise to make it the best it can be, no matter how much I have to wrap, how many cookies I have to bake, or how much sleep I lose to see that every single thing is as perfect as it can be.  They will love it, even if a part of their heart is sad.  We all will.  And next year, when we are all together again, we will be even more thankful for the fantastic holiday, and the times we get to spend together, because we will truly understand how special they are, and appreciate them more than many people ever could.
Merry Christmas to All, and may your holiday be as fantastic as possible for you and yours.

The Only Way to Watch

My Husband, love his heart, loves to see movies.  I, though, am not a movie person.  It took me years to figure out why I dislike going to see movies so much, but I finally got it.
First, I'm cheap and movies aren't.  I thank my mom for that one, because as we grew up, she would always tell us she wouldn't pay the money to go see anything, she would rather wait until it came out on video, and that stuck.  I much prefer the little red envelopes that come in my mail box over going the movies.  For less than what it would cost my husband and I to go to the movies once a month, we get a ton of different things coming in those envelopes constantly.  There is almost always one going out, and one coming in.  Much better value.  However, if I really like something, I am willing to pay for it.  I still dislike actually going to the theatre, though, and that brings me to reason two.
I hate the sound systems in theatres because they always shake me and make me have to pee.  Yes.  It all really comes down to a hatred of needing to pee during the movie.  I have great anxiety about that.  I hate getting up in front of people. I hate public bathrooms, and I really, really hate not being able to enjoy my Coke Zero because I know it will end up making me need to pee.
So, he and I would only rarely go.  Since we have had children that low frequency has managed to decrease even more.  We only go to the movies shown on base, after they are pretty much out of theatres.  They are free, they don't have loud sound systems, and everyone gets up to go pee at some point since they are always movies meant for kids.  While I appreciate that lack of bladder shaking sound, and the fact that no one really cares if I have to get up and take them, it also amounts to a sucky movie experience, if you like the movies.

This year, it just so happens that My Husband's favorite comic book character,  and he is a super fan, has a movie coming out.  Captain America is in theatres now.  He couldn't believe they were going to make it a movie.  Then, he thought it was suck.  As more info and some pictures started to come out, and he began to realize that it wouldn't suck, his level of excitement went through the roof.  He needed to see this movie.
We are back to our movie watching hurdles, though, with my hating to go and then dealing with the kids.  I don't think The Littlest One would be very good in a theatre, and we can't leave her with a sitter just yet.
So, we found a fantastic alternative to just about every thing.
The drive in.
Yes, they still have those.
I know because we went to one.
We gathered up a ton of blankets, pillows, and my boppy just for The Littlest One, and threw them all in the trucks.  We went by Sonic and got some dinner to take with us.  Then we drove over to the drive in.
This particular place requires that big trucks like ours park in either the first four or last 4 rows.  We got there very early, and were able to get an incredible place up in the front.  I mean it was a killer spot.  The screen is huge.  We let the tail gate down, rolled the cover off the truck bed, threw all the pillows and blankets back there making a nice bed, and got the girls to climb in.  They loved it.  Unfortunately for me, the first few rows meant for trucks also have these humps built in that put you at an angle so that other people can see over your vehicle.   What this specifically meant for me was the the tail gate was now above my waist when let down, and I had to climb in.  I won't go into great detail on the spectacle I made of myself, trying to get up into the bed, but finally, with a large push in my large rear from my husband, I made it into the truck with the girls.  We got comfy and finished our dinner.  Even The Littlest One didn't mind eating al fresco since I had the boppy for her to lay on like she does at home, and I didn't make her use the nursing cover thanks to better shirt planning and the truck bed walls.
You may think that the sound out there, just coming out of the truck speakers, would sucks, but you would be wrong.  Think about how far sound systems in cars have come since the days of the first drive in theatres.  People even have Bose speakers now. Not only that, but you have every stereo there playing the sound, quite loudly.  It was actually pretty good.  In fact, I love it.  The sound had a great quality, without making me need to pee.  Perfect.
When it was time for the movie to start, he was so excited.  The Girls were, too.  Well, the big ones were.  The Littlest One was only in it for the boobs.  Furthermore, it was only The Littlest One whose excitement lasted.  The Little Big One was out with in 20 minutes, and The Big One only made it half way.  The Littlest One stayed up through most of the movie, just snacking off and on. and hanging with us.  The best thing about being in the back of the truck was that we could just let them sleep.  We got to watch the rest of the movie pretty much in peace.  I think it was by far the best movie experience we have had with them.  IF we weren't so old, and exhausted form having a newborn, we could have even stayed for the double feature while the girls slept, and been able to actually watch two movies.  Maybe next time, because there will be a next time.  I don't mind this movie outing at all.  In fact, I think it was kind of great.

Labor of Love

Babies in general are a labor of love. Being pregnant isn't the easiest thing in the world to do. For some people us, like myself, it down right sucks. This pregnancy was so hard.  I wasn't sure I was even going to survive the physical pain at moments, but when I look in to The Littlest One's face, I can barely remember any of it already.
Several times, she and I have been lying together in the quiet of the night, and I felt like there should be choir singers in long church robes, singing soul full hymns of praise while a soft white light encases her because to me, she is such a miracle and every moment with her is amazing.  It feels surreal sometimes, to have a tiny baby again.  I see such beauty in all of her potential.  I love every face, every stretch, and every little noise she makes.  Little babies are bliss and happiness, in tiny little packages.
I realize that life wont always be like this. I know she will be older and sassier, much like her big sisters, but I'm really enjoying these times.  I see the joy that makes everything worth it. She is beautiful.  She is wonderful.  She is what life is all about; love.
I love all of my girls.  I love them dearly.  No matter how much they put us through, physical, mental, or emotional, I know that they are worth the pain they bring, as the joy and love that accompanies them far outweighs it.
Happy Mother's Day to all of the moms out there who have endured and continue to endure their own labors of love each and every day.

From Two to Three

Running a moms group, I get to hear lots of birth stories, and meet many many mothers and pregnant moms to be.  Perhaps because I had such a terrible experience last time around, I am very aware of pregnant moms, and not telling them my birth story, or any horror story about being pregnant for that matter.  I don't think that pregnant women need the extra stress of worrying about what happened to anyone else.  Pregnancy is stressful enough.  I think sometimes people forget that, though.

In my case, I can't tell you how many times I have heard how hard it is to go from two to three children in the last few months, even from very good friends.  Apparently, three is that magic number where you are suddenly out numbered as a parent, and the world becomes totally overwhelming.  Three is supposedly more stressful than just about any other number, it is worse than four or five.  This is the make it or break it point, where you go from a normal family, to a big family.

Maybe I am a moron for not being concerned, but I'm not, really.  At least, no more concerned than when I went from one to two.  It may be the fact that The Big One is so much older, she is almost 8 now, that I don't have to worry as much.  She is capable of not only taking care of herself, with in reason, but helping out with her younger sister.  The Big One can make a sandwich, get a bowl of cereal, a granola bar, a cup of milk, or what ever they need.  She and The Little One go out to play in the back yard, and she watches her, at least somewhat.  They sit on the couch together and play on the Wii for as long as I will let them, and the same for the computer.  While it isn't her job to take care of her sister, and I would never totally rely on her, I know she can be a great help to me, and really can do a lot.  For that matter, at 4, The Little One can do a lot for herself, too.  While I do have to remind her to wipe her tush still, I don't have to go to the bathroom with her.  She can dress herself, if she is so inclined on any given day.  She will even play on the computer by herself for a long time, if I log her onto a good website.  If I put juice boxes and things at her disposal, she can get them out of the fridge, too.  There is a lot of self sufficiency, if she will just do it.  So, while I certainly will have three children, I won't have three small children.  I will have two children who don't need constant attention, and only one who does.  I will have an older child who will be able to help out, and will even enjoy some of the things that have to be done while caring for either the baby or The Little One.  Yes, My Husband and I will be outnumbered with there being more children than parents, but I guess, as much as he is gone, I live my life that way, anyway.  My concern isn't that there will be three, but that I will be alone with a new baby very soon.  That scares me far more than how many of them there are.

I kind of feel like we will settle in to three pretty easily.  I know there will be challenges, but that is to be expected with every new child.  Each new life is different, and none of them come with instructions for their particular model.  You always have to figure things out as you go.  This addition will be the same.  WE will figure it out.  We will all adjust.  It may not be easy, and at times I may feel like they are going to get the best of me, but it won't last.  Somehow, three just feels right to me, like this is how life is supposed to be.
I am no fool.  I am ready for the challenges, but I welcome them instead of fearing them.  We will be better than alright.  I think our family of 5 is going to be great.

Our Tree

Long, long ago, before children, when I still wore the makeup and the boots, I used to have beautiful Christmas trees.  Each year it was the same.  I put real red roses, dried, on my tree with white lights, and silver balls.  I would sometimes use some red poinsettia flowers as well.  Anything that went on it was red and silver, and of course the white lights.  I would say it was a very fitting tree for my personality, especially since i had a thing for dried roses.  It could have been something for a magazine cover, maybe a dark/goth lite magazine, but still, a magazine.

Now, however, my tree is totally different.  I don't think there are any limits to what we put on it.  Now that I have children, I believe that the tree should reflect that, and be very festive.  We might even take that to the extreme now.  I think my tree looks a little like Christmas threw up on it, but at least it screams Christmas.  We use white and color lights.  We have more cartoon characters than you could probably count placed all over.  There are ornaments to represent each child, and different years.  Our garland is one of those colored paper ring things, and sometimes we add popcorn strings, too.  We have ice cycles, snow flakes, and real candy canes scattered about.

Then, my favorite part would be all the ornaments that The Girls have made.  I love those things.  Each year I have The Girls paint a ceramic ornament that my mom makes.  We sign and date the back.  It is a beautiful time line of maturity to see The Big One's first ceramic ornaments that she painted until the one for this year.  The Little One doesn't have so many, what with her only being three and all, but she will get there.  These are things I will treasure forever as a mom, and are probably one of my favorite parts of all of Christmas.

I guess when others look at our tree, they might see the Christmas vomit.  They might see a tree that has garland going in 5 different directions, because that is the way little hands put it there.  They might see one more hot mess hanging out in my living room.  I really don't care what other people see, though.  What I see is love and family, and nothing says Christmas more to me.

An Epic Food Failure

Not to toot my own horn, but I think I am a pretty decent cook.  I am not a chef or real foodie, but I can make a decent meal.  Even when I don't cook from scratch, I tend to be able to throw together something that comes out pretty well.

Tonight, apparently, I failed.  I failed miserably.  Let me state before we go any further, though, that it was not so much what I did, but what I picked.

Since it is Girl Scout night, I need to be able to get my meal ready pretty quickly as Scouts doesn't even end until 5:30, assuming we actually get out of there on time.  So, normally Monday is one of my crock pot days.  For some reason, my brain missed that memo today, and I just forgot all about it.  (I would venture the guess is pregnancy brain already, but who knows.)  The Husband is trying to eat healthy right now, and has requested lots of chicken breasts this week.  So, I thought, chicken breasts, baked potatoes, green beans, and some cottage cheese thrown in for The Big One and I who don't eat meat.  Unfortunately, I needed to hit the store to do this as I am out of potatoes.  I kept trying to get there today, and it never happened.  Just one of those days.  Not a problem if you can grab the potatoes and have them done in about 15 minutes in the microwave.  It is a problem if your microwave suddenly up and dies on you.  That is worthy of a whole post by itself (and probably will get one), but it also means that I have to make the potatoes in the over at about an hour of time instead of 15 minutes.

So, at the last second, I had to choose something else.  I opted for quinoa.  Apparently, my choice was incorrect.  I like quinoa, and it is very healthy.  It is also a complete protein, something very important that I try to get in The Big One now that she is not eating meat.  I knew they would all balk at the idea of something new, so I told them it was special rice.  They didn't buy that either.

The comments I heard tonight were pretty bad.  It seems my family thinks I was trying to poison them.  Not with a nice poison that you can't detect, either, but something horrific that makes you want to lick tree bark.  The Little One started crying the instant I made her put a tiny bite in her mouth.  The Big One acted as though she was going to vomit each time she started to chew the few bites I required she eat in order to continue to be a vegetarian.  The Husband told me he had mistaken it for cardboard, but then told me it might be ok, if I picked a flavor other than "recycled" next time.  It was French Herb.

I liked it.  So, I have it.  I have a medium sized container of it to eat  tomorrow.  I'm thinking a nice cold quinoa salad with some cut tomatoes, cucumber, and a little feta will be great for lunch.  I guess this time I will actually be allowed to eat all of my own food without anyone asking me to share, or just picking up my fork and getting a bite at their own will, too.  I suppose my loss is also my gain.  Ehh...I can only lead the horse to healthy food, I can't make it eat.  I can, though, remember that the horse refuses particular healthy grains, and promise never, ever, to fix them again.

Oh My, The Questions

The Big One has questions about the new baby to be. Every day. All the time. She even announces it like that, "Mom, I have questions about the baby" so that there is no doubt as to what we will spend the next 15 minutes or more doing.

I think she is really curious, but doesn't know what all to ask. Since I told her that any time she had a questions she could feel free, I also think she feels the need to ask, even when she doesn't know what to say. Hence our 30 minute random sessions of question asking. Believe me, that are random.

Tonight, I got what I think will be my best question, but I will try to make a list of all the good ones she gives me, and update frequently.

Tonight's Q & A started as normal with the announcement, then my giving the go ahead. At that point, she him and haws around for a while, and is asking me about the baby turning out different. I thought at first we were going to have a serious discussion about the possibility of the baby having a disability, or something like that.  I started thinking about all the ways to explain how children are sometimes born different and special.  All the while, she kept asking this series of questions about being different.
Finally, she hit me with the big one, and the closest thing she could to what she really wanted to know.

"What if they baby speaks Spanish instead of English."

That took me a minute.  I had to process it, and come to a realization of what she was asking.

"Are you trying to ask me what if the baby is Hispanic?"

"Yes."

"Well, then your father would have a lot of questions for me."
She didn't bat an eye at that.
I did go on to explain to her how that wasn't possible and just a snippet about how the baby will be made up of Mommy and Daddy's genes.  

This only gets funnier because later on, The Little One told me that maybe this baby will be black. I think she meant it would have black hair, but that isn't what she said. My Husband nearly went into hysterics.

I'm not really sure what my children think of me.  I'm beginning to be worried about the reputation I have in my own house hold.

What I need to do now is find a picture of The Little One at birth to post.  No matter how many people refuse to believe me, I really am of Native American heritage on my Mom's side, and it shows in her family.  In fact, I am enough Native American to claim that legally.  My Dad's side, though, is straight up white bread Irish, and I am only third generation here.  His DNA won out in me, and I look at white as possible.  So, white, that I am nearly translucent and I swear to you that parts of me glow in the dark.  Yet, somehow, some way, when the The Little One was born, she had a head full of black hair.  I think it came from my heritage.  She also had jaundice, and was tinted fairly dark compared to me.  I actually had people look at me and ask if I was sure that was my baby.  Her jaundice went away, and her hair turned red, then went blonde, but that definitely isn't how she was born.

So, if after all those discussions, with both children about what the baby can look like, if the baby really does come out like The Little One, I think my own children might start checking out the UPS Man just to be sure.

Looking for Surrogate Grandparents

Today has been difficult, and it isn't even over yet. Though many things are conspiring aginst the day, I realized today that the biggest contributior to my difficult circumstance is that my family is no where near. My husband is out of town. My parents and the rest of my family live states away. So, here I am, alone and pregnant, trying to take care of everything. I need help.

So, I have decided that there is only one way to fix all this. I need some surrogate grandparnets. My own grandparents have all passed away. So, I can't be hurting any feelings by looking for some new ones. I'm definitly not trying to replace the grandparents that the girls have. They are wonderful as they are. I just need someone to be my grandparent again, and take me under their wing sometimes.

Grandparents would be great. I could ask my new grandmother to come over and sit with us, just so I could rest a little today. I could ask my new grandfather to help me figure out what is wrong with my tire because it is getting low. Then, when we found the screw in it, he could told me what we needed to do, explain that it was no big deal, and help me get it fixed, because thats just what a grandpa would do. They would come over and dote on the girls for a while, making them feel extra special, and helping ease their pain from missing their father. My grandmother could spend time with The Girls and I in the kitchen, helping us make holiday cookies and maybe even teach the girls to make biscuits or can. There are so many things that new grandparents could do.

There is a lot we could do for them, as well. I would be glad to take them out shopping or help them run errands. They could get so much love from two little girls who have it in bushels to give out. There would be family dinners that I love to cook. Of course, holidays dinners would be there. The Girls love to draw pictures for people, and would undoubtly be able to cover their fridge. The both like to sing and dance for you, and can be quite entertaining. We could be the grandchildren and great grandchildren they never get to see, or don't have.

I think it would be a great deal for both sides.

So, if you are of grandparent, or great grandparent age, and need a family to love, please consider us. We are really nice. A little loud sometimes. I do like polotics, and can be very opinionated, be that good or bad. I love political debates as well. My husband is in the military, and tell some good tales to match any you might want to share about your own military back ground. The Girls are wonderful, most of the time, and will melt your heart in an instant. Don't forget the baby to be. There isnt anything like a new baby in a family. We hope to find you sometime soon and make all of our lives a little brighter.

Thanks For All the Crappy Reactions

Today was kind of a big day. My husband is getting ready to leave for a little while. So, we took this as the last chance to tell our families that we were expecting.
We always try to think of something clever to do. This is, after all, not our first rodeo when it comes to telling them news like this.

I suggested a simple approach. Send them a picture/text message of the last sonnagram, and say nothing else. So, we did, and we waited.

I think as a whole, everyone was pretty much confused. They had no idea what the picture was, or whose it was. My Mother in Law even went so far as to ask whose baby it was. That could have gone a few different ways, but, ehh.

To be honest, they were all shocked. Completly shocked. I can't say I totally blame them. This is really pretty unexpected, and we knew that if we decided to have any more it would be difficult, with serious potential complications. They all knew that, too. So, the idea of adding any more to our family was just gone. So, again, I get the shock. However, that doesn't mean it isn't a good thing, or something to be celebrated.

I think only My Sister gave us a decdent reaction. She was excited. My mother pretty much failed to comment. My brother didn't even talk to me, only his wife did.
I mean, those I love the most pretty much left us hanging, and I have to tell you it hurts a little. Maybe even more than a little. I want happy, not happy/concerned.

I hope that people come around in time. I hope they all eventually get happy for us. For now, I feel nearly alone in all of this. What a way to start out.

Sundays Rule

I have a feeling that Sundays are going to come to be really cherished for me.

We have had family Sunday traditions for a while, I've even blogged about them before. Of course, when your life changes, sometimes your traditions change, at least a little, too. Sundays have changed, but for the better in some ways. At least, better for me.
In the past, we have had pancake breakfast, then pizza and game night.

Now, some of that will stay, and some will go. We probably won't have time for a big breakfast anymore. The pancakes will have to move to Saturday mornings, which will be ok. Sundays now, will be church day with MimMim (aka Grandmother or My Mom). The girls get up early, get ready, and I take them all to church in time for Sunday School. So far, they love going to church with mom, and it is good for them. So, that is a definite score. The next win, is that I get the next one to two hours by myself! That is a total win! I can have the house mostly to myself, and just do what I want, like shower in peace. I mean, you can't get much better than that.

Then, for dinner/supper, we will still be doing pizza and game or movie night. That is also one of my favorite family things to do. We make our own pizza and play games. We love playing games as a family, even if The Big One cheats at everything, even Connect 4. So, the games and pizza will go on.

Yes, Sundays will be a good day. Me time in the morning, family time at night. Sounds like a good day for everyone.

It may not be Normal, but it is mine

I love traditions. Most traditions, anyway. People talk about holiday traditions all the time. My sister and i started talking about our holiday traditions. She told me that while chatting with a friend recently, she told this friend that we had no Thanksgiving traditions, and not much of a Thanksgiving at all. I have to differ from this opinion. You see, we do have at tradition, just not anything like a normal one. I love it, though, and as difficult as it is, it is our tradition.

My mom runs a very large craft show back home in Tennessee. She took it over a few years ago, but has been a part of it as a crafter for since the beginning, 27 years ago. So, we have been doing this a while.

Thanksgiving weekend the show goes on. So, the weeks and days leading up to Thanksgiving, and that weekend are very busy.

Every year now, on Thanksgiving day, Mom, family, and I go to my uncle's home(formerly my grandparent's before they passed)for lunch with her family. We all make it quick, though for different reasons. Mom needs to get to work on the show, and the rest of us just want to show face, put in our time, and get the heck out of dodge as soon as we can, and before the obligatory Thanksgiving day family fracas starts.

Once lunch is over, we head to the location of the craft show, about 25 minutes away, to let the vendors setup. We have already spent the two days before, setting up. On Tuesday night, and I mean all night, we set up the location, laying out booths, and so on. The vendors can come in the next day and setup their own booths, or they can come on Thanksgiving day and finish up. We get done around 7:00pm, with my usually fussing about people not respecting time, and trying to usher Mom out the door. I'm not the nice one of the two of us, in case anyone wondered.

Then, we go home to our own family Thanksgiving, even as late as it is by then. My sister spends the day cooking, Mom usually pre-preps as much of it as she can for her. Then, we finish what we need to when we get there. We end up having a really late supper, and being totally exhausted.

I know it is hectic, exhausting, and a little crazy, but I love and enjoy it regardless. While it may not be as Normal Rockwell as other people's Thanksgivings, this is our tradition, and I appreciate it for what it is, and hope to be doing it for a long time.

Buy Me Some Peanuts and Crackerjacks...

I don't know about you, but we had quite a night around here last night. Both girls were screaming, yelling, and generally being insanely loud, and it was totally fine. We took them to a baseball game, and I have to tell you, it was a ton of fun. We got tickets to see the San Diego Padres play the Saint Louis Cardinals. My husband used to be a huge fan of the Card, back in the Mark McGuire days, and I thought he might like the game. So, when I found a way to get us tickets for free, I signed us right up. The housing community that we live in sponsors great events for all the military families that live here. This was one of their fabulous events. We got free tickets to the game, and each person for a $5 food voucher to use. That was all totally cool to me!

We weren't really sure where we were supposed to go or park when we got down town. We muddled through and found a nice little lot on 8th Street. Then, we realized that the lot we had to find to get our tickets was on 13th. It was just a 5 block walk with 2 girls that didn't want to hold our hands, but did want to stop and look at everything in a crowded downtown area. No big. (Insert eye roll here).

We were told to go to the tail gating lot, which no one downtown seems to know exists. However, if you say the corner of Imperial and 13th, they get you and can send you in the right direction. We finally found this mysterious lot and the big red tent where our tickets were waiting. We hoofed it as fast as we could to the tent. There were lots of other families coming, and only the first 200 people got the food vouchers. I'm cheap. I told The Husband to leave us behind and run ahead of the others. He said he would stay with us and it would be ok. It was ok. They still had vouchers when we all got to the tent together. We go our tickets and baseball cards for the girls, and headed in.
Let's Go Padres!

Our seats were about 4 rows above the nose bleed section, but honestly, we didn't care. The girls just got a big kick out of everything. They love the Friar, and wanted him to be on the field more than the players. I tried explaining the game to Lilly, and she got it. Somewhat. She was cheering for both teams, but..ehhh..we didn't care. As long as they were having fun.
The food vouchers were awesome. They have this great 5 for $5 deal now that rocks. You got a hot dog, peanuts, drink, cookie, and something else that I can't remember all for $5. It was tailor made for my kids. So, we got them both that, and they went to town.
We let them eat, yell ,and be wild until they started to wind down. Shortly after the start of the bottom of the 7th inning, we took off. We had all had enough for the night, and even though we were leaving early, I think we were full up on fun. It was really a great time, and a great experience.

I am thankful to those who donated tickets, and let us have such a cool family experience, and create more beautiful family memories.

The Family that Plays Together...Burns Together

Ayer, mi familia y yo fuimos a la playa. I have no idea why I felt the need to put that in Spanish, but I just think it is cool when people use something from the more common vernacular to talk about their family, but "the fam" felt all played out.
Anyway, for those who don't know how to use the google translate feature, yesterday, my family and I went to the beach. We have the burns to prove it, too.

I am pretty sure this was the first time that we have taken Ava to the beach. Sad for a two year old born in San Diego, I know, but I am just not a fan. I hate being all itchy from the water, and I really hate finding sand in places that sand shouldn't be.

Anyway, we took them to Breakers Beach on base. It may not be the best beach in the world, far from it if you have ever been to Hawaii, but it is never crowded, and has decent bathrooms. That makes it tops around here in my book. I packed lunch for a picnic, and we took all kinds of great sand toys the girls have been begging to get into forever. We loaded up and headed out just before lunch time. The Little One is still limping pretty badly. So, it wasn't the easiest walk for her. Also, the water was pretty cool. She got in once, then decided she would rather sit with me and play in the sand. The Big One and The Husband spent almost the entire time in the water. She loved it. For a kid who can't stand to get dirty, she thought all the seaweed in her hair was hilarious. The Little One, well, her father dug a whole that went to her waist, and she spent a good amount of time playing in it, then just filling it back up. By the time we left, she was caked in sand from head to to. Really. Caked in it. I think her big sister transported a good portion of the beach into the showers herself. I'm really not sure whose suit was smuggling more sand, but it took me forever just to get enough off to make them passable to go to the grocery store afterwards.

I wasn't too bad on the sand, because I tried to avoid it like the plague. However, when you have a husband whose mission in life to cause havoc and mischief, you have to expect to get at least a little wet. Knowing full well that I would act like a cat with the water, He brought up a bucket full of water under the pretense of carrying it for the kids to use. I, knowing his nature well, figured out his ruse and immediately started beating feet. Didn't matter. He can outrun me in a flash. And he did. I gave my evasive maneuvers my best shot though. I even worked so hard that a boob fell out of my built in shelf cup bra. It stayed in my suit, and I didn't flash anyone, but I did have to adjust, as soon as I quit moving and he threw the water on me.
Even though I was itchy and wet, it really was a good time. I even, mistakenly, thought I got away without being too badly burned. However, it seems that all of us ended up with some little, but painful ones. Both of the girls have faint outlines on their shoulders. The Big One has about an inch strip right above the top of her suit back that I must have missed in out sunscreen rub down. The husband has a funky U shaped burn on his back, where apparently, I only put sunscreen on the middle of his back, and not anywhere near his sides or the top of his swim trunks. I have some horrible and painful burns where I neglected to put sunscreen in the very delicate area on the inner part of my arms and on my side boobs. Not fun. Not fun at all, I tell you. I went out and bought more aloe and even some that has some kind of pain reliever in it. We gooed our selves up pretty well last night, and will keep putting it on for a while. All in all, though, I think the day was well worth the little bit of burn. It was a great time. One that I hope we repeat, with slightly better sunscreen application, again soon.

I'm Third Fiddle

My mom is in visiting. I love her. I really do. I am ever thankful that she is here, helping out, and doing what she can to make my life easier. Mainly, she is taking care of the girls, which is honestly all that I want or need. She pretty much takes over with the girls the moment she gets in. In fact, I kind of get pushed out the door.

Once my mom, or Mim Mim as she is known around here, gets in, the Big One instantly asks me when I am leaving so that Mim can baby sit. They don't even play like they need me or miss me.

The Big One wants only my mom to take her to school, which actually meant that I had to load everyone up, drop them both at the designated area, circle around while mom walks her into the school and to class, and finally come back for mom. As long as she feels like Mim is taking her, that is ok, though.

Mim takes them to the park with out me. She stops the ice cream truck, something I never do, to make sure they get a treat.

In fact, though she is my mom, I can tell you that she really doesn't even come to see me. No. I am welcome to go where ever I like, when ever I like, and she will be here with the kids. That is the way she likes it. We spend some time together, but it isn't a lot. I don't really mind playing third fiddle anymore. I don't know if I ever did. I appreciate her help so much, that I am willing to give up first and second chairs, and skooch on over to the third, as a trade off for a little peace and quiet. Really, I am just so thankful that they both love my mom, and value her. I am also thankful that they get the benefit of all of her wisdom and experience. I hope that she imparts a little of herself into both of them each and every time she is with them. If that means I take the backseat, so be it. It is more roomy back there anyway.

My Mother...

In one of my thousand calls with my mom this week, I got what had to be the best news that I have heard in sometime. It ranks right up there with hearing that your daughters are fine after they are born.

My mom is no longer fighting cancer. She is done. She has been dealing with cancer for over 6 years now, between finding out she had it, the surgery, the chemo, radiation, and even the pill form of chemo. She finally finished her last pill, and was given the all clear.

I can not tell you how happy that makes me. I can not express to you how my heart feels when I think about my mom, no longer needing those medications, and actually being healthy. I realize, though it saddens me, that she will never be the same as she was before that disease afflicted her body, but she is better and hopefully, now that those drugs are going to begin to leave her system, she will continue to get stronger.

As mother's day is fast approaching, I am even more pensive about how much she means to my life.

She is not just my mom, she is my friend. She is the person who taught me to be me. She is the one from whom I draw my creative and cooking inspirations. More importantly, she is my daily inspiration. The older I get, the more I want to be like her. I want to have her knack for witty comebacks. I want to have the patience and wisdom that she has, to know when not to use those comebacks.
No matter my age, I think I will always aspire to be someone that she will be proud of. I want to be a good mother, like her, and be a strong woman, like her.

She really is my rock, if ever anyone was such a thing.

I will never forget the day that she told me she had breast cancer. It was both a beautiful and painful day. She found out in January of that year that she had cancer. I was pregnant with our first child at the time. We don't have the best history when it comes to pregnancies. She decided that she didn't want to risk the stress of telling me. So, she told no one. Not one person knew that she had cancer. My dad finally guessed, but she had no intention of telling him until it was time, either. She put off her treatment, and waited. I never knew. My husband was deployed, and we had planned on my mom being in the birthing room with me. She made plans to come down and stay with me for a month before the baby came. She came down, but still I didn't know. My husband came home early and was able to be there for our daughter's birth. Mom wasn't in the room, as we had to go into an OR, but she was there, waiting. She was in the postpartum room when I got there, waiting. She had gotten to see her grandchild.

It was there, in that postpartum room that I found out. She told me that she had cancer, and had kept it s secret for me. She had to tell me right away, because she had to head home immediately to have surgery, and begin her treatment for the disease. She had waited for me, and suffered for me. Her sister, my aunt, who was with her, didn't even know. She bore that burden alone for months, in order to protect me, and my unborn child. I can not imagine what it took to do that alone, but I love her all the more for it.

As I said, she is my rock, and I can not imagine my life without her. I think that if I stopped calling my mom, the phone company would call to check on my line of their own accord. It is that serious.

So, this post is for the most fabulous, intelligent, and inspiring woman that has ever graced this earth, at least my portion of it, my mother. Thank you for being you, and being my mom. I love you, mom, forever and always.

Peter Pan and the Pirates - A 2fer

Today, something very special. This post is going to be a two post in one, aka a 2fer. Two great and related stories need to be told.

Last night, I actually got to turn on the TV and put it on a news channel. That is a rare and wonderful thing for me, a news channel junkie. The US ship captured by pirates was the story on at that time. The big one looked at me and ask "Are pirates real?"

"Yes. Pirates are real."

"Like Captain Hook?"

"Well, no. Not exactly, like Cptn Hook, but there are real pirates. These pirates captured a US ship."

"Oh wow." said with a look of disbelief on her face.

"Everything is ok. The crew got their ship back, and there is a US Navy ship there to protect them now."

"A Navy ship like my daddy's?"

"Well, sort of."

"You mean my Daddy is fighting pirates?"

"I guess he could be." I mean, it is possible, how ever not likely.

"Oh man! That means my dad is fighting Captain Hook!! Wait! That means my Dad is Peter Pan! My dad is Peter Pan!"
She was thrilled with her realization, and danced all around the room yelling that her dad is Peter Pan for at least a couple of minutes.

At this point, I couldn't respond. I was too busy trying to hold it together. I was laughing, but I wanted to be crying and laughing it was so good. If you had seen the sheer look of conviction on that child's face the moment she decided that her Dad was Peter Pan, you would have lost it, too. It was priceless.


Now, on to part two of our pirate tale.

Later on, my mom was telling my sister, whom I have mention before, about The Big One's epiphany. She only got to the part with the news story and Sis stopped her.

"Wait. You mean there are real pirates?

Seriously. My sister just ask if there were real pirates. I swear. My mom told her of course.

"You mean like Johnny Depp? Real pirates?"
No really. She ask.

My mom went on to tell her it was all over the news, and tell her about them. I love my sister, and I think this is more proof positive that somehow, my daughter is just like her.

To make the tale even better, Sis was out to lunch with a friend of hers who is from Sierra Leone and the friends mom. The friend came to the USA in order to go to college. She is very intelligent, speaking multiple languages,with multiple degrees. You know, a nerd. Sis starts to tell the tale of the pirates, and gets to the same point in the story as my mom did, and her friend stopped her.
"Wait. You mean there are real pirates?"

My sister was thrilled. Having someone that she considers uber smart echo her same questions seemed to give her some sense of validation, and that she wasn't that off for not knowing that pirates still existed.

I was discussing this with her, and she assured me that she could go out and find 10 people she knows that didn't know there were rel pirates now. I assured her that was not necessarily a good thing. Her parting line, and the line that I let finish the conversation because I couldn't take any more, was "I'll be honest. My friends and I care more about our hair than pirates." Right on. As long as you know who you are, and are proud of it. You just keep on, keeping on.

Love you, sis and thanks for the great stories to post.

The Gotta Love Johhny / Can you play that? Post

I love Johnny Cash. I think he was a fantastic artist. I was searching around for something today, and happened on this video.



Love it.

I was telling my mom about the video, which she needs to see, and she came back with a Johnny Cash story that has to be shared.

You see, June Carter Cash was from an area that a lot of my family is from in Virginia. In fact, my grandmother grew up with her family, and they used to sit around on some one's front porch and pick and sing.

So, Johnny and June could often be found around my home town, and even more often up in the hills of southwest Virginia just doing normal things. My Dad even said hi to him at our local library once.

One day, and this has only been about 10 years ago, my Great Aunt Nell, was on her way up to our family home place. One the way is this little store that sells antiques and things, but also has some general store stuff. She stopped in with her granddaughter to get a coke. As they walk in, this man is sitting in the front, just sort of picking a a guitar. He isn't playing, just picking. Aunt Nell walks by, looks at him, and asks "You think you can play that thing?"

He looks at her and says "Ahh, a little bit."

"Alright then" She replies, and goes on about her way.

She walks on back, and Everett, the sales man, says to her "Nell, do you know who that is? That is Johnny Cash."

Aunt Nell turns, takes a good look, and says "Why, I guess it is."

"His wife June is over here, come on back, and I'll introduce you."

So, Aunt Nell goes on back on gets introduced to June Carter Cash. They chat for a while.

On the way back out, she stops at Johnny, who is still picking, and asks "Is that yours or is it Everette's?"
She mean the guitar.

"Oh. Its Everette's."

"I figured."
Apparently, Everette was a wheeler dealer, and was trying to sell Johnny that guitar.

Then she walks out.

As soon as they are out the door, Nell stops, leans down to her granddaughter, who is a preschooler at the time, and says, "Now, honey, you aren't going to remember this, but one day, I'm going to tell you this story, and it will be a great one."

I have to agree, Aunt Nell, it is a great one.

That's My Blonde Girl

If I haven't ever told you all this, my oldest child is a blond. She is very blond at that. Not only is her hair color as said, but sometimes, and this isn't as mean as it is going to sound, her level of awareness is pretty blond also.

Now, I have to tell you that she is not a dumb blond. Not at all. In fact, she really makes me think of my little sister, whom I love dearly and will not be mean to, as promised, in this blog, so that she won't cry while reading it. Shew. Disclaimer over.

They are a lot alike. Both of them are quite intelligent. My sister has a degree in sociology from a pretty snazzy university. She holds down at least 2 jobs all the time. She does very well at them. She can hold her own in a political conversation, if she chooses to, which I think is fantastic. That being said, don't ever, ever ask her for directions. Not even to her own home. Now, I could go from here, and tell you some fantastically wonderful stories that would make you giggle, but, as promised above, I agreed not to make her cry. The thing is, even though she is intelligent, my sis lacks common sense in some areas, and there are certain areas where she simply doesn't have a high level of awareness. Her mind just works differently. It isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it is a very special character trait that makes her who she is. I think that is the reason she is such a creative person, and she is.

The same goes for my daughter. She is very intelligent. I am often surprised by how intelligent she is. She is also incredibly imaginative and creative, just like I remember my little sister being when she was this age. Much like my little sister, though, I fear for my daughter sometimes. That lack of common sense and awareness can lead them to some situations I wish they could have avoided.

Today, for example, the big one walked into a pole. No really. Just like you see in the movies or on TV, she walked right into a pole. The pole didn't jump out in front of her, and it has been there long before she started to school there. It seems that on the way to snack time, which is held where they eat lunch outside, she began chatting with a friend, and when she turned to talk to her friend, she lost complete awareness of her surroundings and walked smack into a metal pole. It hurt. She has a knot and will have a pretty ugly bruise. They took her to the nurse's office and put ice on it. Then, they called me. I went to school and checked it out. I decided she was fine. While I did tell her the she was not allowed to rough play the rest of the day, the teacher had her sit in the sand box during recess, I thought she was fine to go back to class. Bless her heart, though, I doubt this will be the last run in of its kind. This is the reason that I keep my cell phone on me at all times when she is in school. You just don't know.

I could see my sister doing something very similar. In fact, just the other day, she managed to rear end a car at a red light, after they had both stopped. Similar concept. Neither the pole nor the other car had moved. They were both there before either of my loved ones got there. It just happens that way for the two of them.

I suppose, though, my sister actually gives me hope for my daughter. She turned out pretty well. She manages to get through most days mishap free. There are the occasional calls to her husband because she ran out of gas, or lost her keys, again, but all in all, it seems to be fine. That is part of the reason I love her husband so much. He is there to help balance out that character trait. I can only hope that when my child grows up, and isn't with mom and dad anymore, she finds someone similar, who will balance her out, and come to her rescue as needed when she locks herself out of the car for the 5th time that month, or what have you. Heaven knows every one needs someone to add a little more balance to their lives. These two just need it in a more certain area and they are both all the more endeared to those around them for it.

P.S. I will come and bring you gas, or pick you up when you loose your keys anytime, at any hour, both of you. Love you.