Silver lining of yuckies

There have been moments this summer that I have felt like I was drowning. And I don't mean the pool, I've spent most of my water moments in the baby pool.

At various moments in the past month or two I've sat in still amazement and wondered why things keep coming at me. I'm not proud to admit that I've had my little why me moments.

First the oral surgery, then the singulair, the bladder infection which is leading to a bunch of test, horrific sleep patterns that may or may not be related to said bladder/kidney issues, and as this post is going up I'm sitting with dash-1 at Children's Hospital while he has stomach surgery.

Really?

Come on!

I just want a few weeks of peace and quiet. Or make that relative peace and quiet, I do have three boys, something is always breaking around here.

But then I remember, we are lucky. We are very lucky.

All in all we have our health, my babies aren't being treated for cancer or some other awful childhood disease.

We have our happiness, even on days with yelling there are smiles and laughter.

We have love.

We have each other, while I sit in many waiting rooms alone, today I don't have to, today I have my love by my side to lean on.

Sounds very cheesy and hokey but if military life has taught me nothing else it's taught me not to take the little things for granted.

And I think we can all appreciate that these things really aren't little things.

In a time when so many are giving so much, sons, daughters, wives, husbands, mothers, and fathers, all are giving the ultimate sacrifice, what's a little period of rain in the grand scheme of things?

Something tells me that they would give anything to have any of these life stresses back rather then the dark emptiness that they are facing.

So we face the yuckies. All in all, we are happy. And lucky. Damn lucky.

the little moments

Mommydom includes a lot of things.

Spills to be cleaned up, wash to be done, poo, poo, and more poo, meals to be made, noses to be wiped, diapers to be changed, shoes to be tied.

Work is never, ever, done.

Sometimes all the tedious, monotenous things that make up the days can also get ya a little lost. Lost in moving from one thing to another, from one spill to fetching a spoon, to tieing a shoe, buckeling a car seat. And the little moments sometimes get lost.

Not last night.

Last night my baby boy and I stopped and well, just that, we stopped. We enjoyed the little moments.

The big boys were out with daddy on the four wheeler searching for frogs and snapping turtles {in case your wondering, no frogs found but the pond did yield a snapping turtle}. Sweet dash-3 and I just sat in the front yard, under a big oak tree, and did nothing.

Well, that's not really true, we smiled and cuddled, we put forehead to forehead and laughed, thats hardly nothing.

My little dash-3 grabbed at the grass and pulled, he clapped his hands together, as if he thought he could catch a bird when a flock flew overhead, he shrieked and giggled when he heard the birds singing, he sat p.e.r.f.e.c.t.l.y. still when the horses came out, when the breeze would blow his soft blond hair would fly around and he would blink as the air hit his face.

He was taking delight in all the little moments that so often get lost.

Smart kid.

I wonder who he gets that from.....

After the rain

Bad weather is like bad moments in your life. Wait them out and they will pass. Now granted, they might ruin your day {or week or cripes even longer}, but after a while they'll end and you'll have a greater appreciation for the sun.

Over the past month we've had some weather doozy's. A blizzard, power outages for days, 60 mph winds, floods, really, short of locus I'm feeling like we've had it all.

{note to the big guy in charge, I do not need locus. I'm good. I gotta enough ladybugs to suffice.}

And like bad weather, we've had bad mojo in the house. Stress, stress and more stress.

Today is a good day. The sun is out. There is a breeze and yet its still warm enough to be outside without a jacket on. The dash brothers are running around and I'm just sitting here watching.

Days like this remind me that perfect is all relative and relatively speaking my life is damn near perfect. Or perfect enough for me.

Now, my kids may occasionally yell at me {yes that happens even to us great moms}, they might slam doors in frustration, they might act like savages in public every now and again, my little one maybe too little, and from time to time flyboy hates his job.

{Shocking right? Working with idiots, in fact, is not his true passion in life.}

That's just like bad weather, periods of crap coming and going, it helps us to appreciate the really good times. Even if they are just simple little moments. After all rain must fall for flowers to bloom.

{Even if a deer is just going to come along and eat one's blooms that they spent time and money on planting.}

Each child...

I had a lot of concerns when we started having kids. After all, we didn't really know what we were doing, in fact, I'm not sure if we've figured it out yet, five years later. But one thing I never worried about was my ability to love them each as much as the other. I was, however, surprised things about them that I would love.

Dash-1 is my first. He holds a special place you know. He's my wickedly smart little boy, he sees the world like his father, in a big way that's his for the taking.

While he is serious, he's my dreamer.He doesn't just want to be an astronaut, he firmly believes that he will be one. And I'm inclined to believe him. {If that whole allergy thing works out}

He doesn't just look at the stars, he dreams about going there, about finding a new one. He doesn't just wonder what to do, he wonders how he can do it.

Now just in case dash-1 is reading this 10 years from now I want him to get a clear picture of what he's putting us thru, he's a bit mouthy, he feels the need to constantly butt heads and doesn't always understand who in charge, but all in all he's a good kid.

Some kids have imaginary friends, dash-1's imaginary friends are his space shuttle crew. And Buzz Aldren. He's a funny little kid.

My dash-2. {Sigh} He holds a special place, he's the middle kid, I'm the middle kid, we have that bond. And he makes me laugh. Really laugh. The kind of laugh that may start in your stomach but goes straight to your heart. But just the same as he wants to make you laugh he enjoys the silence of being by himself.

As adorable as he is, he is stubborn. Very stubborn. He sticks his heels in, furrows his brows and NOTHING is moving him.

Shame that he too has not figured out that he's not actually in charge around here either.

Tonight he didn't want to go to bed so he stripped his clothes off and stood naked in the hallway. Moments like that I don't know whether to laugh or be mad. {Flyboy was much less amused. He wasn't confused on how to react.}

And my baby, who being my baby has to have a special place. My sweet dash-3. My simply sweet baby boy who has big blue eyes, fuzzy blonde hair, and just one dimple. {My favorite line is, "Mama could only afford one dimple so that's all you got!"}

Now granted he does not nap. At. All. he is perfect to me. His personality is fit for a third child, go with the flow, he just gets dragged from here to there with the other two and smiles all the same.

And even his small size be damned because he fits just perfectly in my arms. It's like it's where he's meant to be.

Three kids.

Three uniquely wonderful kids and one me to love them all.

And enough love to go around. Funny how that works out.

If you have kids, did you worry you wouldn't be able to love them the same? Or if you don't have kids {or just one} do you have that fear?

{Even when the point of my post is to ask you all a question I'm incapable of a short post. I'm working on my wordiness, I was hoping that twitter would help me with that some. If you doubt I can type 140 characters or less, check here}

And thanks to everyone for their very much appreciated kind thoughts on my last post.

Its been a banner year

Sweet Jesus it's 2010 already?

Every year flyboy says the same thing, "this year will be a banner year for the flyboy familiy".

{He uses our real last name, it'd just be silly to refer to oursevlves as the flyboys when you all aren't listening. But then again if I used our real names here I wouldn't be very good at this anonymous stuff now would I?}

He started saying that back in 2005 when we were expecting dash-1, he said it in following years regarding money, more kiddos, promotions, moving, school starting, all that kinda stuff.

As 2008 was winding down we had a bit of a blow when I had a miscarriage, as 2009 started we didn't know that I was pregnant again, we weren't sure what would happen next but as I type this a year later, little dash-3 is sleeping peacefully in my arms.

We spent a lot of time apart, we might not have always been together when we would have liked, or needed to be, but as this year winds down we are. In a year when so many people have lost someone we are ending the year not just together but with one more.

In a year when so many are struggling financially, when jobs and homes have been lost, we might have had some water "mishaps" in the hallway but there is still a roof over our head.

This year has been filled with ups and downs. Some months held more downs then ups, more tears and frustrations then I would have liked but all in all, I look back at 2009 with smiles and I look ahead to 2010 with hope. And I wish the same for all of you.

But no matter what is to come, you were right flyboy, 2009 was a banner year for us.

I wonder and I believe

Sometimes I really wonder what the world is coming too.

I wonder on a big scale with what happened at Fort Hood yesterday and I wonder when things happen on a small scale like getting ripped off by the wood guy. And somedays everything in between.

I wonder if society is just going to pot. I wonder why it seems like horrible things happen to good, decent people just going about their business. I wonder why it seems like sometimes things just don't let up. I wonder how not to let life pound you down from time to time.

And then I look at my boys. And I realize....

I have to believe.

I have to believe in the good, I have to believe in my children and the chance that they have to chip away at the muck in the world, I have to believe that for every shyster there are two people for whom their word means something, I have to believe that even when monstrous events occur that there will be some peace.

There is faith, I have that too. But this, this is me remembering to believe.

thankful thoughts

I turned on the news this morning to see that there had been another crash or something in which two aircraft were involved and the possibility for survivors is little to none. It's been a bad month for things that fly, or at least there has been more coverage of it.

It makes me think... a lot, and it makes me want to hold my family closer and appreciate the little things that really, aren't so little.

I am thankful for every poopy diaper I change.... because every dirty bottom is attached to a sweet face that gives me kisses.

I'm thankful for every hand print left on my white walls.... because every dirty hand is attached to the arms that wrap around me so snugly for hugs.

I'm thankful for every dinner I make that is less then gourmet.... because we have food.

I'm thankful every time the sticky food covered child who sits next to me steals food off my plate.... because at least we are together to eat as a family.

I'm thankful for the times that my husband is late getting home when all I want is a break.... because that means he's here to come home.

I'm thankful for getting caught in a downpour at getting drenched and then having to go pick up dash-1 at school looking like a wet dog.... because at least I'm able to be there to pick him up and share his day with him.

I'm thankful for (granted its hard to be at the time) temper tantrums and nasty attitudes.... because it allows me to show my children that I love them irregardless.

I'm thankful for the downs... because it makes the ups mean so much more.

What are you thankful for?

Today I...

Today I....
woke up earlier then I would have liked.

had the wind blow a tree full of rain on me as I got dash-2 in his car seat.

felt my sanity eroding in the doctors office, dash-1 slugged dash-2 (in the face) for not sharing his seat as I was trying to calm down a very irritated dash-3.

had all three kids wailing simultaneously in the before mentioned doctors waiting room. Oh yeah and it was full of people. Of course.

was informed that flyboy will be away next week and wont be able to take dash-1 on a school field trip.

had a cart slam into my new car. Thanks again to the wind.

was "that mom" in the commissary with the crazy kids. Yeah, I was definitely that mom.

got the new checkout guy and took forrrrrrever.

heard from a four year old that I am a bad mommy.

BUT

Today I also...
got a kiss from my husband as he left from work.

snuggled with a warm sleeping baby in a nice quiet house as the sun came up and the rain was ending.

had a stranger in the doctors office tell me that I was the "model of patience" and seemed like a great mom.

kept my patience with my kids, even while it was tested.

had a nice conversation with the bagger at the grocery store, a lovely retiree.

got to talk to a friend on the phone while my kids ran around being kids.

had a great dinner with my family in which EVERYONE behaved.

got a hug and a kiss from both my kids for no other reason then being mommy.


All in all today was a good day.

I'm thankful

All right I was trying to get in a blogging groove but its proving harder then I thought. I thought while I was down at my parents I'd get caught up but lets face it, with three small kids there is always something going on. Or rather someone is always getting into something and at night, well, I'm just pooped. But I do still have a giveaway to do I just need to get a picture of it. So any day.

But today is a special day. Today, 29 years ago, I graced the world with my presences.

After giving birth three times I feel like I should really thank my mother, cripes this day should be more about her then me. Perhaps I should get her some flowers.

Birthdays are great fun after all its a day about you. Well you and everyone else born on that day. And lucky me I get to share today with my very best friend. How many of you all are lucky enough to have a very best friend born the same day as you?

Not many I'm guessing, we're special like that.

Today is going to be a fun day. I wish flyboy were around but he hasn't been home for a birthday since I was 18 so why should the Marine Corps cooperate now? But I have the rest of my posse with me and we shall have fun today.

I know some people get bummed out about their birthdays but I'm not going too. So what I'm getting older? Sure beats the alternative.

Rather then lamenting about being a year older I'm thankful.

Thankful for my fantastic husband, our strong marriage, our amazing boys who are not just smart but delightful little beings.

I'm thankful for being blessed with another year to spend with my family, to get the chance to grow as a better wife and to help guide my children thru their life.

I am thankful for my littlest one and for the peace that he brings to our bunch and for the calm that his breath brings to my heart.

I am thankful that while my days might be filled with poop and spit up that they are also filled with big hugs, little wet kisses, lots of "I love you's" and the best part of the day, bedtime. I am very thankful for bedtime.

I am thankful for my friends, I don't have a whole lot but the ones I have are fantastic and so are my friends in the blog world, and strange as it may seem I consider many of you guys friends.

And now, I must take my thankfulness and go feed my littlest one.

Have a great day everyone, I know I will!

And to my dear penny, HAPPY 29!

The military is hardly ruining my kids

I am alive. I'm not locked in a dungeon somewhere. I haven't given birth to dash-3. I'm not stranded on some desert island without wi-fi. I'm just lazy.

There the secret is out.

Earlier this week, Dash-1 had his allergy appointment at Walter Reed this week. It's a bit of a haul but his allergist there is fantastic and seriously, I'd travel to the other side of the country to see her. I'm not sure if dash-1 feels the same way but, well, I don't care. He's just along for the ride.

I must say, it looks shinier and cleaner then the last time I was there. Parking still sucks but those floors are way shinier then the floors at our MTF. And their bathrooms are so roomy.

Our MTF (military treatment facility for all you civies out there) bathrooms suck, they are so tight you have to fight to get a stroller in there. That makes no sense at a hospital where some people are in wheelchairs but hey whatever the military seldom asks for my opinion.

All in all the appointment was a relative breeze, no big hiccups, there was one close call with dash-1's mouth.

First you all must understand that he has NO concept of inside and outside voice. A wounded solider came rolling by in a motorized wheelchair with and dash-1 just stared with great big eyes and then said in total reverence and with great respect, "he's like lightening mcqueen mom" and of course, the soldier heard him.

And thankfully, thankfully he smiled.

I realized that they are growing up with this whole military thing as their "normal". They don't think it's odd to show their id to someone at a gate to go to the doctors, they don't think its strange to see guards with guns around a hospital or base, they think doctors wear cammies and not lab coats.

Really, dr's in lab coats confuse my children, we were reading a book about doctors and dash-1 pointed out that his doctor does not dress in white.

I also realized that my children must occasionally listen to me.

*insert gasps of shock here*

With the exception of the lightening mcqueen comment (but really folks, a motorized wheelchair is pretty wicked cool to a four year old) he didn't stare or make any comment rude comments about the wounded warriors we saw. Rather he asked me to explain to him again about how some people have to come here when they get hurt.

I told him that when some people have to go away they get hurt and they go there for help. Some need a little help, some need a lot. And my very perceptive child uttered a very true statement, "we are very lucky that daddy never needs help".

So true my little love.

And it's moments like this that I think for all the heartache that military life can bring about, it also allows for some amazing life lessons and moments of gratitude.

Fathers are more then dads

I am thankful daily for my boys wonderful father, also known as my studly flyboy. Actually I should amend that. I'm not merely thankful, I am really, REALLY grateful.

Much obliged kinda grateful.

Boys need their daddy's. They keep mommy sane. If it weren't for him I probably would have had our boys in plastic bubbles a long time ago, but he helps to balance me. He is teaching them to take on the world, often times head first, even more often resulting in a boo boo.

Flyboy fills a spot in the boys life that I can't. He makes sure that they get the push in life they need, a push that is sometimes hard for me as a mom to give, I in turn make sure they have the soft spot to fall.

Right now its extra soft. But that's neither here nor there.

It's so cliche to say but I watch him with our boys and I fall even more in love with him. To see him on the floor with them building giant lego towers (which the mom in me fears will fall over and poke someones eye out, really there has to be some lego height restriction out there), wrestling and rough housing (far to rough sometimes in my opinion) or building a rocket at night so they can have a launch the next day, I see in him a father who would do anything for his kids.

I know he doesn't always like his job. He has a funny saying and I'm paraphrasing somewhat, sure I like flying, but working with idiots is my true passion. But he toils away long hours, lots of stress, and much to all of our disappointment, a lot of time away from us, but he does it for us.

And then he comes home and is an awesome dad. He is not the type of guy that comes home from work and "unwinds" with some peace and quiet or playing video games. He comes home and seldom has he even taken off his flight suit before the boys are all over him. They roll around on the floor, eat some dinner, and then roll around some more.

I love him for being such a special dad. I love that he sees what our boys need to grow up to be responsible men and I know that with their fathers love and guidance they won't just grow up to be men, but to be incredible men.

And I love that he can get dash-2 to pee on the potty.

Happy father's day my dear, we might forget to tell you sometimes how very much you mean to us, but the boys and I, we always know how lucky we are to have you.

Happy to just be

For all the things I know I need to work on to be a better person, for all the shortcomings that flyboy and I have, we have one thing working to our advantage... we're pretty darn content people being just us.

We don't have much desire to keep up with the Jones. I'm not sure if its part laziness or the fact that life keeps us busy enough, but at the end of the day we rarely ever think or care about what other people have that we don't.

In the interest of keeping it real as I vowed the other day to do let me share some of these tidbits with you, some may shock you.

We do not own a wicked cool big ass flat screen that you can hang on the wall. We do however have some tv's that when I use the term big ass to describe them I mean in the sense that they weigh a ton and take up a lot of space. The youngest tv we own is 6 years old and the largest screen is like 27 inches.

My car does not have power locks and windows. Really. I'm serious.

Stop the laughing out there.

Seriously, no power locks or windows. And its not that old only a 2003 but it was thousands of dollars cheaper when we picked it up, used of course. And you know what, it doesn't really bother me. Again I'm serious. My power windows used to go out all the time in my last car and it drove me to drink, my arms are much more reliable.

And it was totally worth it when we valeted once and the guy spent five minutes looking for the button to unlock all the doors. Really that was priceless.

Flyboy and I sleep in a double bed. The same double bed he had before we were married. Six and a half years ago. Yeah. This one I'm not as thrilled about.

We keep talking about getting a pricey sleep number bed (we live in an old farmhouse and nothing larger then a double will fit up the stairs that and well, I've always wanted a sleep number) but whenever we start looking and get ready to hit the purchase button...we freeze. Our bed is good enough. And honestly, most of the time its just me in it.

And to be on the up and up here, flyboy did say that he thinks he's going to bite the bullet and finally order me a nice, new, big bed, especially since I'm becoming a beach whale and our kids are starting to push us out of bed in the morning when they climb in with us. And since we are paying off the above mentioned car with no locks, it wont be as painful.

Please don't think I'm saying that there is anything wrong with having nice things or splurging on yourself or your kids from time to time. We hardly live in squalor afraid to buy nice things. We just don't feel the need to always be keeping up with someone else.

I know this girl, I've mentioned her before on this space, her husband served with mine when we first moved up here and then thankfully he got out and took her back to her home state. Far, far, far away from here. (Proof there is a God)

She had to compete with everyone about everything. And would make comments about what you had that she didn't feel was up to snuff. Our apartment, our car, hell, my husband's rank at one point. When we had babies around the same time, I registered at Target.... she registered at Pottery Barn.

And hey there is NOTHING wrong with wanting to register at Pottery Barn, but really must you then say, "Oh target..." like that?

When we saw them last year when they were in town, really it was totally against my will, it was a bbq with people from flyboy's work so I didn't have much say in not going, she kept making comments about how much her husband now makes.

And you can bet your ass she spends every cent of it and then some.

I think one of the most important thing in life is to be content with what you have. I don't think that being content means that you aren't a hard worker, its just that you understand where you are at the moment is where you must find happiness.

Happiness isn't a flat screen tv or a giant California king, that's just stuff, and stuff can't make you happy. Especially if its stuff you can't afford. Just look at where that's gotten a lot of people.

Thankful

I am thankful.

I am thankful for my sweet and loving husband, who despite having to be away so much always thinks of us at home. No matter where he is, what he is doing, even in the times that the Marine Corps must come first, we are always first in his heart. I know this and I am thankful for him.

I am thankful for my sweet little boys. Try my nerves as they might, they bring love and joy into my life. With them I get to see life the way it should be, I get to stop to examine the grass, lay on my back and watch the clouds float by, and debate the finer points of peach applesauce or sour apple applesauce. Without them I wouldn't get to be a mama, I wouldn't know what it's like to love truly and wholly, I wouldn't know what a true laugh sounds like, or what a true smile looked like.

I am thankful for my parents. Now that I am one I feel like I should apologize and bow to them at the same time! They are always there for me to lean on, turn to, or call on. They raised me right, put me thru college, and now they are willing to babysit whenever they are able. I know the raising was tough and college cost a lot but lately I'm more thankful for the free babysitting when your around.

I am thankful for the roof over our head and the security of flyboy's job. At times it may suck but thank goodness its there!

I am thankful for our health (and on that note our health insurance). We may deal with some blips here and there with dash-1 but nothing we can't easily manage compared to some of the heartache and pain others have to face. Nuisance? Yes. But really, nothing more then that. And trust me, for that I am so thankful.

I am thankful for the little things in life. Pink lemonade, watching Phineas and Ferb with the boys, coca cola, easy bedtimes, phone calls or emails from flyboy in the middle of the day, comments to post (yeah I'm not gonna lie), nice weather, a good pedicure, flip flops.... the list goes on.

I. Am. Thankful.

no husband bashing here

I hate husband bashing. I've said this before on here, I just don't see the need for it and quite frankly I think its horribly disrespectful to your spouse and to your marriage.

Now, I do think the occasional funny husband tid bit or talk of what they do that drives us crazy is ok. In fact I think both make great blog material when handled in a funny, none hateful way. But the bashing is to me just disgusting.

I found a mommy board online for the local area. I thought it would be a place to trade parenting tips, cute stories, and find playgroups. I found the board before I had started blogging and honestly I thought I would find the community there that I have found here. It was ok at first, but then again ever notice how crazy people always seem normal at first?

I've pretty much stopped posting or expecting to get anything out of that board. I did meet one very lovely person on the board who has kids oh so close to my kids age and her husband is also military. Well Coast Guard but potatoe/potato (I'm only kidding brie, she also reads this now so no coastie jokes). Finding her was nice, finally my kids had someone else who understood that daddies go away and I had a military spouse friend.

Anyways I still do check in on the boards to see what people have posted. It's like a sickness, I guess its some form of voyerism. But all they do is husband bash. And I'm talking some NASTY stuff.

And let me tell you how that board was lit up on valentines day. One woman was pissed because her husband bought her a box of nice chocolates and she had just lost some weight. And just an fyi she was ripping into how stupid he was and I believe the a hole word was used. Sweet Jesus cut the poor guy some slack or hey, hears an idea, appreciate that he's home with you. Perhaps he was a little clueless but maybe just maybe he was really trying.

Wanna make a bet her appreciative ass isn't going to get anything next year!

All these women do is complain about their lives and their husbands. They do everything, they cook, they clean, they alone take care of the kids.

Ummm what's funny is their exaggeration really is our life isn't it folks!

It hit me some tonight when I was talking to brie and we were talking about how much our kids miss their dads and how much we "ask" of them (and how they were driving us crazy but that's not really crucial to this story). Small example, Dash-1 is so excited, he is bursting because when flyboy comes home he will be home for an entire week.

Awkard moment, flyboy isn't a 100% sure of his schedule so lets home that he can pull this one off.

I always wonder when I read these hating husband post, how much of it is that their lives really suck or how much is just the woe is me syndrome that we all fall into. Can I just say I want to post "Get over yourselves bitches" so bad. So bad.

But I'm not an idiot I know how that would go over.

I don't want to make it seem like I'm using the "my life is harder because of the military" card. I hate to make it seem like I think I have it worse then these women. That would make me no better then them. And the last thing I want is that! I have a great life, I'm blessed with my beautiful boys whom I get to raise, I have a wonderfully solid marriage, and I'm lucky to have a husband who would move heaven and earth for me.

And best of all, I realize that.

And like someone said in a comment a couple days ago, perspective is everything. These woman need to get some perspective.

Hmmm, this was supposed to be a much funnier post, it took a turn somewhere...

Feeling good

Today has been a good day. I'm feeling more like myself. And not just that it seems my time hugging the porcelain bowl seems to be, hopefully, winding down. I'm still nauseous but I don't seem to be spending such a high percentage of my day puking. Not to sound all Martha Stewart but that my friends, is a good thing.

Today was my 12 wk visit. Indeedy do there is a baby in there, who appears to have a nice little heartbeat. Too soon to figure out if I could be getting a break from all the blue and maybe have a little pink in my life but really, healthy is all I ask.

I doubt I'll be keeping you all informed of all my little pregnancy milestones, I doubt that high on anyones reading list and I have far to many poop stories and funny tales of dash-1 mooning the dr's. Of course those might not be high on your reading list either but oh well.

(Side note last week in the er I asked his brother to pull his pants down. I meant the legs of his sweatpants which for some reason dash-2 likes to pull up at his knees like he's trying out for some gang or something. When what do you know dash-1 comes from behind the curtain with his pants pulled down showing off his little white butt and he asked us all, because of course there is a doctor and two nurses/medics in the room, "like this mom?")

More than anything today I'm feeling some relief. I'm feeling like I can finally get excited about having another child. For the past six weeks I've felt like I've been holding my breathe, afraid that the moment I became attached something would go wrong.

I suppose some good from the lost pregnancy is that where as before I was overwhelmed and slightly terrified of how to adapt to three, with this blessing I'm seeing it just as that. A blessing. I'm not terrified, I'm not overwhelmed at the thought of three, I'm excited. That's all. I know there will be challenges but I'm just thankful for the opportunity to rise to them.

I'm sure I'll be slightly more paranoid this time around. Unfortunately loss teaches you that you can lose again. That your not untouchable, that your not immune. But it makes you that much more thankful for what you are given. I'm going to try to relax, ease up on my paranoia (although really my bizarre paranoia could be a whole post) and enjoy the ride I'm on, no matter how many bathroom breaks I have to take.

valentines day and vomit

I was talking with a friend on Monday about trying to meet up for lunch this week. She works down at WP so it would coincide with a commissary run. She mentioned that her girls were sick and I uttered those words, those famous last words.... "Oh we are on a great run here. No sickness in a month and a half. I don't know how we are doing it but the boys are just healthy as healthy can be. Not even a runny nose!"

I kid you not, that night dash-2 projectile vomited during dinner (great when your gag reflex is already trigger happy) and then after bath. And then while he was sleeping. Twice.

I blame myself. Sigh. And possibly a couple of carts at wal mart that he just had to lick. Oh and a bathroom or two on the Jersey turnpike. He didn't lick those but I think just being in them can give you disease.

And of course, all of you know that this happened the night before flyboy was going out of town. Of course. I don't think he's ever actually been present for a drawn out sickness. I really dont hold that against him too much because I'm pretty sure that it's not done on purpose. But still.... lucky bastard.

And anyone with small kids close in age knows how these things go. One gets it, starts to get over it, passes it to the other, then back and forth for a week or two. Fun with a capital F.

Dash-1 came down with not only the stomach bug but a nasty flu on weds, yucky stuff spurting out of both ends, high fever, and all he wanted was his momma. So he puked on me, breathed on me, laid on me. And then I got it.

Flyboy was supposed to be home a couple days ago, of course again, the trip got extended, outside his control I understand, but frustrating as hell. I thought I could hang in there but my mother disagreed. Thankfully she drove six hours to keep me from my deathbed and to help with the other two lepers. I am happy to report that after five hours in the er, three bags of IV fluids, some great nausea meds I am feeling much better. Mom is back home, dash-2 is recovered and ready to dig out of the house with a spoon and Dash-1 is getting there. Slowly.

I take that back. This post was sidetracked with a giant vomit cleanup, total wipe down of the living room, an outfit change, and two loads of laundry.

Oh yeah and happy valentine's day. That's the real point of this long winded diatribe. As I have for the past three years I am spending Valentine's day with my two true loves, dash-1 and dash-2. There will be no romantic dinner or even moments to myself. And honestly, really, honestly, I'm good with it.

But I am annoyed by something. I signed on to my local mommy board thingy and surprise surprise there was a HUGE thread about how people's husbands weren't doing anything for them. Really I'm kinda shocked at how some of these women were putting down their husbands, I mean no wonder you aren't getting anything.

But why not look past that? I get that its nice to be remembered by your spouse but why not look at all the little things that they do for you instead of all the giant romantic gestures that not all men are known for. My husband, love him to death, is not such a romantic guy, but he will get the decaying mouse out of my house and I'd much rather that then flowers.

Hell, I can buy myself flowers but rid the house of mouse? I think not.

Why not be thankful that your husband is home with you? Get over yourselves people. Some people are just content to be miserable. So please folks, instead of lamenting that you might not have gotten a huge bouquet of flowers or a lovely card, just appreciate your spouse today.

I hope mine knows how very much I appreciate him. Happy valentine's my love, I'll see you when I see you.

Bye bye bug

There is no pink in my house. There are no dolls which means no frilly doll clothes, no doll shoes, no doll houses. Nothing girly at all. Well my tampons. But really do those count?

Instead there are lots of cars, lots of airplanes, legos, things that can be made into swords, lots of navy blue, lots of green, lots... of boy stuff. Occasionally I think of pink with a little pang of missing out but this morning I got some payment for dealing with all this blue boy stuff.

I walked into the bathroom and what did I find but Dash-1 picking up a bug with toilet paper and disposing of it for me. He was quite proud of himself. Granted I think he did use half a roll of tp but still its the thought that counts.

My heart went all pitter patter, perhaps my days as being the bug killer are over. Could it be?

Finally, my boys are starting to earn their keep.

This country really is great

Flyboy was home this Saturday to catch a favorite around here, My Big Redneck Wedding. Wow this weeks episode was a dozy. It even topped the brother and sister one. We watched the show in stunned silence. Really. Not a word was uttered but we did keep doing the whole slow turn-shocked look thing. It was kinda eerie how that kept happening.

There isn't any way that I can sum it up but to say they were rednecks in the truest sense of the word. I mean there was a tractor pull with them in their finest at the end of the wedding but that's not what I was really thinking about.

You know what I took away from that show as the credits were rolling besides that I could have done with a little less, naked (they did have the black bar but really it was still too much) hot tub scenes? God bless America.

Really. God bless this country.

I mean think about it, only in a country like this does there vote count the same as mine.

Every last one of us is endowed with the right to go vote. We all get one say in how things should be, except of course if Acorn's gotten to you then who knows how many says you get.

But seriously, it doesn't matter how we get there, be it pickup or sporty coup. Doesn't matter what we wear, doesn't matter what we look like, smell like, speak like, whether you say y'all or yous guys. Doesn't matter our education level, our income, whether you partake in jello wrestling on your trailer parks front lawn, or if your wearing your dentures.

All that matters is that in that one moment, we are all equals.

Check me out!

Ann over at Under the Sea awarded me with a spectacular bit of bling. Hey we all love bling don't we?

Ann's blogs is one of the first I started following before I jumped into the blogging world. I loved her honesty. Life on her pages doesn't have to always be rosy and perfect, it is what it is and she puts it out there as it happens.

She's former navy herself, a navy wife, and recently became a new mommy. Which will no doubt be the greatest joy and the hardest job of her life. Seeing the humor and day by day attitude that she takes towards military life she is going to make an amazing mom. And will probably come out of it WAY saner then I.

And probably not at all curled up in the fetal position in the corner.

So the rules of this award are.... to display the award
link back to the person who gave it to you
and then pay it forward by nominating 7 blogs, linking to them, and letting them know they've got a little love.

My seven picks (in no particular order) are.....

Loquita's Blog is a great read written by a very witty and what I would figure to be a very feisty Marine girlfriend. I love to read her blog because it reminds me of my relationship with flyboy in the long pre marriage stage, all the ups and downs, the highs and lows. Its amazing insight into how difficult, but how very worth it, long distance relationships, especially with military folks, can be. I also read it because she too is very honest, she puts her feelings and frustrations out there and doesn't feel the need to sugar coat.

Army Blogger Wife I am in awe of you. She just started teaching elementary school, she has three young ones and her husband is in the middle of a 15 mth deployment. Wow. Every time I feel overwhelmed I think of her.... its safe to say I think about you several times a week ABW! I wish I lived closer to you so that I could offer my help, you are an inspiration. And might I add... she doesn't complain... not even with projectile vomit.

Heidi over at Learning to Live. This is a fantastic blog. It's raw and its real, it runs the gamete of emotions, from memories of her husband, an Army Officer killed in Iraq, to post about their adorable son, to her yard and the problems with grass in central Texas. I am amazed by her strength, by her grace, and I love the fact that she admitted to forgetting to feed her son dinner one night as I must admit... I have done that a couple of times myself. I love me an honest mom.

LaLa at What? Mermaids? her grandfather, Sarge Charlie, pointed me in her direction and her blog is now a must read for me. She just married her love, whom also happens to be a flyboy. So now there are two Mrs. Flyboys out there in cyberspace. Now she's well on her way to domestic bliss, becoming a happy homemaker (she made bread the other day and it actually rose.... I've been married six years and am just now figuring it out) and figuring out navy wife life.

Suzie at Up the Hill Backwards is hilarious. Really. I always have a laugh that resembles a snort when I read her blog. Her take on motherhood and life in general is great. She is one of those bloggers who despite our differences, my secret crush on Dick Cheney (oops its out there now) and hers with Joe Biden (sorry Suzie, just picking someone from the left) I often daydream of us getting coffee, casually laughing, looking very picturesque while our kids are duct taped somewhere.

Its another Susie, this one at Be Strong and Courageous. Her blog is breathtaking. I don't really know how to explain it. Her son, Joshua was born with encephalocele and lived a blessed nine weeks and four days. Her blog is a testament to faith, to a mother's love, heartache, joy, and blessings. I can not imagine the pain of losing a child, but I can relate to the intense fire of a mama's love, and now as she is tackling potty training with her little girl, I can oh so relate to soggy underpants.

And how could I leave off The Roaming Southerner. She shares my love of chick-fil-a but yet we differ on the coke, diet coke thing. Its OK, I wont let that get in the way of our relationship. Really if I can look past the left right thing I can get past TRS's love of diet coke. Her blog is not one of a military wife nor a mommy blog but that's what I love about it. She is my portal to what life outside of french fries up a nostril and preschool nightmares is like. Her writing is witty, she was so kind when I was looking for some guidance on the whole weight loss, WW thing. She is funny, stylish, and getting thinner by the minute. Damn you TRS you have it all! And now even blog bling!

There are so many more sites I would give bling to but cripes this post is getting long. Now... go forth, read... comment.

but dont forget to comment here. I'm a sucker for them.

Remembering today

“Now, we have inscribed a new memory alongside those others. It’s a memory of tragedy and shock, of loss and mourning. But not only of loss and mourning. It’s also a memory of bravery and self-sacrifice, and the love that lays down its life for a friend–even a friend whose name it never knew.“
- President George W. Bush, December 11, 2001