Sunday, July 30, 2006

I lie awake every night. Thinking about you, I fantasize.

Title from Liz Phair's Fantasize.

No, not THAT kind. Although, I suppose they could turn into THAT kind of fantasies if I let them play long enough.

Yesterday at the gym, I tried to figure a way to help get me through my time on the treadmill. I decided to roll with a fantasy I always have whenever dh is gone for a long period of time. You see, I'm resourceful. I also know how to play the media game to my advantage. So I've always wondered what would happen if I could somehow get a pass (lately, I'm thinking as a journalist) and get my butt to dh. Although suddenly I find myself not wanting to give up the fantasy. I'm a Pisces, it's not unusual for me to get lost while I wander through my daydreams. I realize, though, that this one has the potential to be crushing. Dh isn't due home for about another 4 months. I don't want to wind up living in that fantasy full-time until then. It makes functioning in everyday life kind of difficult.

Let's not forget the emotional swings that come along with this. I can be giddy, excited and in dh's arms while I fantasize only to have to snap back to the harsh reality of no dh, screaming girls and The Boy splashing in the cat's water dish.

I'm missing dh something awful lately and I have yet to decide if wading through my fantasies is helping or hurting.

Saturday, July 29, 2006

From the minds of 4-year-olds

I've had some odd conversations lately. I must share so you can all revel in the oddity.

  • Today, while having dinner at a friend's church (we watched her kids in a super cute musical production of the story of Jonah followed by dinner), Girl1 handed me The Boy's doll and said, "Her name's Sharka because she eats sharks. She eats them for lunch every day." Girl1 later told me, "I'm her mom. The Boy is her dad." I explained, "That's illegal." So she asked, "Do we have a legal too?"

  • The other night, I went in to check on the girls long after they fell asleep. While I was there, I heard Girl2 mutter, "I want to try." She occasionally talks in her sleep and sometimes, if you ask her a question while she's doing it, she'll answer you. So I asked, "What do you want to try?" She tossed a bit, but didn't answer. So I asked again. She said, "No, I DON'T want to try." Then she paused, wrapped her arms around the stuffed camel, and said, "But my camel wants to try. I hope he will wait, though." I still have no idea what he wanted to try, though.

Friday, July 28, 2006

Times like this, I hate being a military wife.

I just had Headline News on (I'm a military wife with a deployed husband. I live on Headline News). They briefly mentioned how a squadron from Alaska was scheduled to come home from Iraq this week, but they've been extended for another four months. I immediately burst into tears. Even writing about it now, I'm crying.

I just want to scream. I want to punch my fists through a wall and scream, "I hate this shit." I'm SO very mad, frustrated, disheartened, and saddened.

I'm a military wife. My husband has been extended while on a long deployment in the past. I understand how very frustrating it is for everyone involved. I also have huge issues with the political process and the politicians. Do you have any idea how difficult it is for the military members who don't believe in/agree with what we are doing over there? It's absolutely devestating. It crushes their souls. I know because I've dealt with the aftermath. Do you know what it does to the families who don't agree with the conflict? It kills us. It makes us more furious than we ever dreamed possible.

I'll stop now because I'm well aware that all my readers don't share my political views. I don't want to turn this into a debate. I just found myself suddenly in tears and I needed to vent this frustration.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Wherever we stand, we stand with Israel.

I had one hell of an emtional night.

I went to a program at shul. It was a performance by the Friends of Israel Scouts. It was basically a bunch of Israeli teens singing and dancing about Israel. We have two Israeli Scouts currently working at the day camp where the girls go. We also have an Israeli family that have lived in the States for 2 years (the father is an officer in the IDF and has been working with the military instilation here where dh works), but are going home soon. The two older children and the mother work for the camp. The younger daughter attends the camp. Their father is called on from time-to-time to do different things both for the camp and for the Jewish community.

Mind you, the female scout is from Haifa. The male scout's school has been destroyed by the bombings. The son from the famliy that's returning to Israel after 2 years will be joining the IDF soon. My heart aches to think about it.

Then, during the performance, the kids came out dressed all in white. One boy gave a speach, in broken English, about the three Israeli military members who have been kidnapped and how we all needed to join in the prayer for them.

When he said that, I really had to fight back tears. Maybe it's because my husband is military and that could easily have been him. Maybe it's because dh is a German Jew. Maybe it's because Girl1 was happily waving the Israeli flag at the time, completely oblivious to what's going on over there. I know it was in part because my son was asleep in the sling at the time. I looked down and kissed him on the forehead and offered up a silent prayer. "Ad-nai, please let the world be different for him."

I want that for all my children. I remember when the fighting started in Iraq. Watching the bombs lighting up the sky on the news, I looked down at my girls who were happily playing on the floor. Dh worked nights, so I was alone with them. The giggled and rolled back and forth while I burst into tears. I remember getting down on the floor with them wondering if we made a mistake by bringing them into this world. Later that week, I had professional pictures taken of the girls with dh in his uniform. There were rumors that he would be headed to Iraq and I wanted pictures just in case. JUST IN CASE? What kind of a world do we live in where we have to try to preserve the little things so our children have something to hold on to just in case their daddy never comes home?

In Judaism, we believe in Tikkun Olam--Repairing the World. We believe everyone has to do their part to put the world back together. Some believe that only when that happens will the messiah come. Others believe that the messiah is necessary to inspire us all to social action. Still others believe there will be no messiah. We alone are responsible for a better world and can achieve that only by striving for justice.

Regardless, I want this to be a better world for my children. I feel so useless. I feel so small. I'm only one person. What can I do to make a difference when there is so much war and hatred? At the same time, I have to try. Even if I can't do much, hopefully I'll inspire to my children to try. I'm only one person, but there are three of them. If we all go out into the world and try to do our own repairing, maybe others will follow our lead.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

"For it is such a long time since my better days. I say my prayers nightly, this will pass away.

Title from 10,000 Maniacs Like the Weather

I started the day off feeling pretty blah. I was the posterchild for malaise. It came out of nowhere yesterday and it was hanging around. Now, though, it's more than that. I'm feeling pretty depressed. That's making me think about the things that bother me and so I'm stuck in the cycle.

I started off this morning thinking "I'd love to just stay in bed all day." With kindergarteners and a baby, though, that's just not possible. I had plans with the sister, but I considered just calling them off and hiding out at home all day. I was really looking forward to it, though. I figured getting out with her was probably the best thing for me. Part of those plans got cancelled, so I figured, "Screw this. I'm hiding out in bed." The girls were at camp and The Boy was asleep, so it was doable. Well, not long after that (before I got a chance to fall asleep), The Boy woke up. I was not a happy camper.

I wrote to dh about stuff. I'm pretty sure he won't write back. But when he doesn't, that's gonna crush me because I always write these deep emotional letters hoping maybe this time he'll respond. He very rarely ever does (and by "very rarely" I mean he has responded once the entire time he's been gone). Even then, it's was 2 or 3 lines which don't really deal with any of the issues raised. The short version of the long story is that I'm left feeling unnecessary, unattractive, and unloved. FTR, True Wife Confessions featured a confession of mine this past weekend. It deals with this topic. I opted to send dh a link. He hasn't responded. I really thought it would since by not responding, he's basically saying my suspicions are correct.

I so don't need this shit right now. Well, I never need/want it, but particularly not now.

I want to get out of the house. I want to do something to keep myself occupied. I want to meet up with friends and do something--anything, but I can't set myself up for more disappointment. I just can't take it.

Sunday, July 23, 2006

There’s no place like home.

That's lucky for me because we had far more fun on our trip than we ever have at home. We had a blast! We went visiting, had drinks, donned glow-in-the-dark bracelets, and accidentially broke stuff all while cracking up. It was so much fun.

I'm back now (much to my dismay) and ready to dive head-first into the real world. I just wish someone would pass me a drink first.

Friday, July 21, 2006

We're going to Kentucky. We're going to the fair to see a seniorita with flowers in her hair.

We're going on a mini-vacation. No, we're not going to Kentucky. No, we're not going to the fair. I have no clue if there will be flower-clad senioritas, though.

The sister and I are taking a road trip to visit a friend. Woo hoo. Much fun will be had by all. We'll be back early Sunday evening. Before then, we'll have a girls' weekend (including the gaggle of children the girls have had). I can't tell you how happy this all makes me.

Side note: while packing, I decided to open the box o'warm weather clothes that I couldn't even get on. Every single pair of shorts fits. There are two that I won't wear in public and most of the others are pretty tight, but hey, I can put them on and button them and actually wear them. I'm so freaking excited about that.

So, fare thee well. Catcha later.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

Multiple choice question

Wbat is this a picture of?

A. Bob Hope

B. Jeans that my sister passed back to me because she got too thin for them, but I damn near burst into tears after trying them on only to realize I couldn't shove myself into them

C. a piece from Pablo Picasso's "blue period."

D. A cat bed

E. Jeans that fit.

answers: C and E

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

The WTF mobile

I walked out of the house the other day and saw this little number. I actually said, "WTF" out loud.

Why? Please tell me why someone would do that?

Monday, July 17, 2006

Your favorite seller’s new items

I'm about to put the kids up on e-bay. 110 degree heat + whining + screaming + refusing to sleep = clumps of hair being torn from my head. There's a market for anything on eBay, so why not a pair of cute kids?

They started camp today. Yay! They get to play and learn new things, I get to nap. Well, I hit the gym first then came home and when The Boy napped, I did too. It was lovely.

When I went to get the girls, Girl1 wouldn't leave. She kept insisting it wasn't time to leave. We had to ask two counselors and she still wouldn't believe it. One counselor reminded her everyone would be back tomorrow. Didn't help. I had to literally drag her out (not an easy accomplishment with the baby in the sling and that whole 110 degree thing). One of her counselors is a friend's daughter, so she came running after me and helped carry Girl1 to the car. G-d bless nice kids. I love my friends if for no other reason, than just because of the fact that they have raised children who will NEVER be featured on My Super Sweet Sixteen.

We'll have a nice little routine down for the next three weeks. I'll drop them off at camp in the morning, then do my 1.5-2 hours at the gym, then play with the boy for a bit until he's ready for a nap. At that point, I'll join him and we can both catch up on some sleep. By the time we get up, it should be just about time to pick up the sisters.

Oh and here's my gym update: I've been going every day for 1-1.5 hours. I even got my sister to watch the kids yesterday so I could go (no child care on Sunday). I'm really excited about it. I can feel a difference and I'm starting to see a little bit (not really looking at myself, but I can now wear shorts that were too tight to wear in public last month). One happy side effect is that I'm too busy to eat the way I used to. So I'm not eating as much and I'm not going out much at all. According to the scales, I'm down 4 lbs from this time last week. Hip freaking hip hooray. :-)

Sunday, July 16, 2006

The strangest thing
(well, not as strange as the dog in the gym)

Today, when I got in the van, what graced my ears? I Got A Girl. Woah. That's really odd. I haven't heard that on the radio in a while. I don't know what prompted me to post about it last night (other than I've always hoped there was some way it was about me, but I've never confessed that and after reading through True Wife Confessions last night [see my links], I was in the mood to confess something--anything).

I just thought that was really strange. What an odd coincidence! Hmmm...maybe amid my search for direction in my life (or at least my career), I've missed my calling to be a psychic. Somehow, I doubt the ability to predict songs on the radio will be a very lucrative career.

Saturday, July 15, 2006

I admit...

I always hoped this song was about me:

I Got A Girl

Tell me something I don't already know.

Your Quirk Factor: 69%

You're so quirky, it's hard for you to tell the difference between quirky and normal.
No doubt about it, there's little about you that's "normal" or "average."

You see, there was this dog...

Today, at the gym, a woman was injured by a dog--a huge Pitbull German Shepard mix--IN THE GYM.

It was the strangest thing. This stray wandered in. The staff was doing a good job of getting him out, but when one personal trainer tried pushing him out the door, he turned and growled. She got scared (rightfully so, I'd say) and let go. He then turned around and ran towards the machines. Until that point, most of us were completely unaware that anything was amiss. That was about to change.

He ran up to the woman next to me on the leg press machine. He jumped in her lap. Let me repeat that, this huge dog (he came up to my chest) tried to jump in the woman's lap WHILE SHE WAS USING THE MACHINE. He wouldn't leave her alone. She was obviously injured, but nothing awful.

The staff then lured the dog out with a bowl of water. When I went to leave a few minutes later, I watched a woman walk in to the gym and actually hold the door for the dog. WTF? So there we were again. I was about to pick the kids up from the nursery, so I headed in there quickly to get away from that horse of a dog. Turns out Girl1 was in the bathroom across the hall. So I had to tell her to stay put.

They had no luck getting the dog out, so they let us go out a side door (I wasn't taking my kids past that thing. Hell, I didn't want to be near him. And oh yes, it was a him. Oh my word was it a him!). When I pulled away, the big beige monster was STILL standing there at the glass door.

That was certainly a WTF moment and a story to tell. I am now added to the privileged few who can count themselves lucky enough to have a "You see there was this dog," story. Only mine didn't involve cars or hospital visits. The same can't be said for everyone in this elite club.

Friday, July 14, 2006

Where to go from here?

When I was a kid, I knew exactly what I wanted to do when I grew up. I had specific plans and everything. Sure I wanted to do different things at different stages, but at each of those times, I knew exactly what I wanted to become.

So why am I now sitting here, very much the adult with a degree and letters after my name, but I don't know what I want to do with my life?

I've been out of the official working world for a few years now. Even then, I don't want to go back to an office. I'm not an office person. I'm a Pisces. You can't box in a Pisces. We need room to create. True, I worked for a non-profit which goes right along with that whole helping others thing that's indicative of Pisces, but it's just not where I want to stay for the rest of my life.

No acting for me (I was originally a Drama/English major). Well, being short is partly responsible for ruling that one out. I could have continued on to the theatre, though, but I didn't. My only connection to that life now are the ghosts of characters past that still haunt the stage. That and the ability to randomly recite lines from plays/musicals in which I performed many moons ago. It's a nifty parlor trick. :-)

I can still write. Heck, I'm doing that right now. Aside from blogging (which I picked up again in part to keep me writing), I've written articles and essays on all sorts of things. Some have been published. But I don't do that as a career. I still hope to, but I just don't have the time and effort to put into that right now.

Over the past year, I've considered going down a very different path. I don't dare speak its name because honestly, it terrifies me. It's not something I ever considered doing until I was forced to walk through a nightmare. I'm still not completely awake, but I've been far more lucid these past months. There was a point when everywhere I looked reminded me of what I lost. In all honesty, I haven't even much thought about the ordeal in quite some time, though. Maybe that's only because we've been so busy. Then again, if we let our worlds start moving again to the point where there's enough chaos and kisses to cover up the bitterness, maybe that IS working through things.

Another reason I keep quiet is because I worry. I worry I'm too old to start over. I worry that my interest is only fueled now because I'm still so close to the event. Is this something I'll want to do in a year? 10 years? I worry that I'm not the right person for the job. It requires so much. I don't know that I have all the traits necessary. Those around me who do the job are just phenomenal--some of the most amazing people I've ever met. A huge part of me thinks, "I could never be as strong/patient/calm/(insert happy adjective here) as they are." Then another part of me beats that part up because you never know if you don't try. I just don't know if I have the strength, effort, or time to try. I just don't know if it's something for which I'm suited.

FYI, I decided to search for jobs based on my astrological sign. No, I'm not ruled by Astrology, I just find it interesting. It's particularly interesting that I am such a classic Pisces. My husband, however, doesn't fit his sign AT ALL. I'm pretty sure his mother has lied to him about his birthday all these years.

We have this site which I found very informative (and pretty accurate): Astrology Zone. Note that according to the link, Pisces is the most common sign among millionaires. Not out to be a millionaire, but I found that interesting.

Here's another link Pisces Workers.

  • Consumed with their pursuits, Pisceans tend to feel things more intensely than most, a quality which is aided by their keen intuition. Sometimes this can be a bit overwhelming, but the idealistic Fish wouldn't have it any other way. Serving and helping others is their raison d'etre, and they enjoy sharing their empathetic tendencies along the way. Pisceans tend to be artistically blessed as well and enjoy using the world as their muse.
  • A desire to assist both artistic and humanitarian causes is exactly what the Fish crave. Advocating for the National Endowment for the Arts while extolling the virtues of anti-land mine campaigns would be a dream life for many a Pisces. If they could play their guitar or recite poetry at rallies, even better. The Achilles heel of Pisceans may be their tendency to dally in a dream state much too long. A reality check every now and again can be helpful.


And I found this on a few different sites:

  • Pisces ( Feb. 19-March 20) Pisces are generous, friendly, sensitive, popular, artistic, versatile, compassionate and spiritual. You will do well in any of the arts: drama, literature, painting, music, but your compassion also makes you well-suited for philanthropy and judicial positions.

So what does that mean for me? I'm not going to plan my future based on what my horoscope suggests, but I was kinda hoping this would give me a kick in the butt. Aside from the judicial position thing, I could see myself doing any one of those. Yet this magical mystical kinda/sorta/maybe/not quite/"He who must not be named" career isn't listed.

AHHHHHHHH. Now what? Does any of those say Pisces are indecisive? Because yeah, that's how I'm feeling right about now.

Hey, I've got a baby and a deployed husband. So for the time being, I don't have to make any definitive plans. I just wish I had a clue about where I'm supposed to go from here.

Thursday, July 13, 2006

milestones: more bitter than sweet

The Boy has yet another tooth and one more that I expect to pop in for a visit within the next week.

This newest development leaves me conflicted.

I'm thrilled to see the changes in him, but I want him to cut that out. It's so exciting to see him change into such a little boy. Watching a full-term baby hit those milestones on time is really neat. You actually get to enjoy it rather than freaking out because everything is happening so late (and because some professionals mistakenly labels your premies as "signifigantly delayed" when they're not). But dh's only exposure to these new milestones is through photographs. He has never really seen these new teeth. It's never dh's fingers The Boy gnaws on. By the time dh gets home, The Boy will probably have a mouth full of teeth. He's getting pretty close to that now. So dh won't get to celebrate the appearance of each new tooth with us. I suspect that for him, it's not a celebration, but rather a sad reminder of everything he's missing.

The Boy said his first word. Dh never heard it. The Boy is learning to do so many new things, but never with his daddy holding his hand. That breaks my heart. I'm loving The Boy at this age. He's so sweet and cuddly. Dh will never know him like this.

On the phone last week, dh asked, "Is he doing anything yet? When I left, he wasn't doing anything." There is so much that the baby's doing now. There are so many little thing I take for granted. They're so mundane for me, I see them every day. They're so foreign to dh because he has never seen them. I know there are many more milestones that we can all share when we're all together, but that doesn't change the fact that there are so many passing dh by.

I just keep whispering to The Boy, "Don't walk. Don't walk. Don't walk." Please let that be one milestone you save until your daddy gets home. Give the poor guy something.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

The feeling stays with me still.

The Boy decided to wake up a bunch during the night and to refuse to go back to sleep when he woke up at the buttcrack of dawn. Pardon me while I growl.

At one point, when I was still delusional enough to think he'd fall back asleep in the swing, I lie in bed with my arm out to the side. I got to thinking about missing dh and I realized I was in the same position I wanted so desperately to hold tightly to just a few hours before dh deployed. Moving my hand along the sheets where dh once slept, I felt the lonliness like a weight in my chest.

A few months ago, I was in that exact same pose as I touched him, felt his warmth, watched the rise and fall with each breath. Now I'm alone.

I suspect fear is a part of why I've been feeling the lonliness so acutely as of late. With all the talk of civil war in Iraq , the bombings in India, the potential for nuclear war with North Korea and Iran (which is very near dh), I think a part of my subconscious is absolutely terrified. My conscious side tries to stay rational, but you can't help the fear from creeping in. Something I've always secretly done is purposely listen to dh's heartbeat when I rest my head on his chest. Ever since we were dating, I did it with the knowledge that some day, that sound will cease to exist.

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

There's beauty in the breakdown.

Title from Frou Frou's "Let Go" on the Garden State soundtrack.

This evening was actually lovely. The kids were wonderfully behaved. We went to the movie for library night. I still had the blanket from the 4th of July in the van, so we were able to spread that out and lay down. The Boy not only let us watch, but was in fine form. He laughed and smiled through the whole thing.

We saw Brother Bear which wasn't a top pick for me, but it's what they were showing. It wasn't awful. At one point, there's a song and dance about family. I had the girls snuggling against me and The Boy happily babbling away in front of me. Girl2 kept coming over to give him hugs and kisses and she didn't complain when he yanked at her hair.

Then we got in the van, started driving, and I broke down. I'm talking tears streaming down my face blubbering like an idiot break down.

You see, last night, I couldn't sleep and started thinking about dh. I realized I miss being touched and held. I miss his hands. I miss his arms. I've said for years that my favorite place in the world to be is in his arms. I miss that like crazy.

Then on the way home, I just got to thinking about it all. I think I've done a pretty good job of keeping life moving along in his absence. This deployment definitely seems easier to me than any of the ones in the past. Although, this evening, the gaping emptiness where he once was just snuck up on me and punched me in the face.

I so wished I could call him just to tell him through my tears, "I miss you, Babe."

Monday, July 10, 2006

Dear morons at Wal-Mart

Yes I shop at Wal-Mart. Yes, I know a bunch of my friends boycott the place. Yeah, I see where they're coming from, but my sanity is more important than lofty ideals right now and being able to get all that stuff in one place helps keep me something that remotely resembles sane (at least to the outside world).

Here's a post I've wanted to write since our shopping trip yesterday.

Dear Lady at Wal-Mart,

Yes, you with the double seater cart and one single child--one single child who was about 6 or 7--more than old enough to walk alongside the cart. You suck! Do you see me standing here with my three kids including the 4-year-old twins who are constantly in the middle of the aisle, getting left behind because something catches their eye (Ohhh, shiny), and grabbing at the glass bottles on the shelves? Do you hear me cursing you out under my breath because I needed one of those carts and there were none to be found?

I wonder if you have one of those nifty yellow "I support our troops" magnets on your car because you know what, by taking that cart, you have made my life far more difficult. I have no choice. My husband is deployed. I must bring all three children food shopping with me. So by taking that cart, you are very much NOT supporting our troops. Next time, instead of slapping a magnet on your car, trying being courteous. Nearly every military wife I know has at least two children 5 and under. We need those carts.

Dear cowboy-hat-wearing-PITA who wouldn't move your cart,

You suck too. Do you have anything that remotely resembles common sense? You put your cart SIDEWAYS so that it took up nearly the entire aisle. Then you stood by the handle and your kids both stood at the front of the cart--thereby making it ABSOLUTELY IMPOSSIBLE for anyone to get by. So when my son was screaming, I was holding him, awkwardly using only one hand to maneuver the cart (since the other hand was holding the child), and I wanted desperately to quickly get through the store, I had to stand there and say excuse me TWICE before your kids would move. You never even looked up. I HATE YOU.

Dear elderly couple who insisted on blocking the bread aisle,

Normally you'd get a "Get out of jail free" card because you're elderly. You weren't just old, though, you were stupid too. So all free passes are out the window. You never did move to let me through. That meant I had to leave my kids with my cart (since you wouldn't move your cart at all to make room), carrying the screaming child, and step sideways past your cart to get down the aisle. So when I have to do the same contortionist act to get back through while carrying bread, don't look at me like I'm on crack. I am not on crack. You're just obnoxious and inconsiderate.

Dear the buyers/stock boys at Wal-Mart,

Where is my spicy popcorn? Why was it not on the shelves? If it was simply out of stock, then shame on you. I adore that popcorn. If you have stopped ordering it, then you suck. If the company has stopped making it, then they can go to hell (as I'm sure they will because I believe G-d will find that to be an abomination). I want my popcorn, damn it!

Dear my children,

What part of "stay to the side," do you not understand? Why must you dance in the center of the aisles? Why must you grab at the glass jars? Why do you pitch a fit when I won't buy you chocolate cookies? I have NEVER bought you chocolate cookies, so where the hell is this coming from? Cut that out. It's driving me insane.

And why, oh why must you go to the bathroom EVERY SINGLE TIME we go to Wal-Mart? Why is their bathroom so much more appealing to you than ours? Why can't you pee before we leave the house and then suck it up for the hour I must shop?

That is all (for now at least. We'll go food shopping again this week and I'm sure I'll have more to rant about then).

Now pardon me while I bash my head against the wall.

To my sister on what would have been her 7th anniversary.

First and foremost, know you are very loved. You are not alone no matter how you may feel.

I can never know how you're feeling today, but I understand that you're in mourning. Don't let anyone try to force you to "snap out of it." Your life has changed. Your home is gone. A relationship is gone. A friend is gone. The life you once lived is dead. By all means, mourn that loss.

If you need a shoulder, an ear, or a hug, I'll be here for that.

Just please remember that this feeling of loss isn't forever. Don't let the mourning overtake you. Know that there are plenty of people who love you. Your life is not over. You're moving through one phase of it, but remember there are many more to come.

I know that because I know you. I know you are stronger than you may realize.

Things have happened that I can't agree with. You know that. But that doesn't change the fact that I'll be here for you when you need me. I will not judge you. I am NOT mom. When you need me, I'll be here for you. This is your life. You need to find the path that YOU want. That doesn't mean that I won't occasionally tell you, "Dude, cut that the hell out," but I mean that in a loving way. :-)

I'm sorry you have to feel all these things and take this walk. I'm even more sorry you have to do it alone. The rest of us can't go with you, but we'll be here cheering from the sidelines when you need us (and occasionally even when you don't).

I love ya.

Sunday, July 09, 2006

Him Gym. Gym is after him.

Yeah, I tweaked a line from Dr. Seuss' _Hop On Pop_. I thought it was clever. I may be alone, though.

Tomorrow is gym day.

Pardon me while I slap my hands against my cheek and make my best McCauley Culkin face.

  • Am I excited? Yep. Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life (nods to S.).
  • Am I ready? Absolutely. I've been ready to lose the weight for months now.
  • Am I prepared? Gym clothes? Check. Sneakers? Check (somewhere around here). Cool Fragle Rock socks? Check. Thanks to the same S. I nodded at a minute again.
  • Am I terrified? Hell yeah!

Saturday, July 08, 2006

Tomorrow. Tomorrow. I love ya tomorrow...

Oh man. I LOVED Annie with a passion that frightened my parents. I still love that movie. I own an old VHS copy that I've watched with the girls.

FYI, Aileen Quinn (Annie) hasn't worked in movies since doing voiceovers in the late 80's, but she's listed as a cast member in 30 which is in postproduction.

Anyway, tomorrow will be another dreaded food shopping trip. Oh boy!

I joined a gym today. Yay me! They don't have childcare on Sunday, so I'll start on Monday. Tomorrow will be the last day before the first day of the rest of my life. :-)

I'm really looking forward to going, but I'm scared too. I need to lose the rest of the baby weight. It's driving me insane. The prospect of being at a more reasonable weight is just lovely. I've never joined a gym before, though. I'm nervous about working out in front of everyone. Plus I'm not always the most independant person. It comes in fits and spurts, but overall, I'm secretly timid. Some people who know me are shocked by that. Those who have lived with me, though, know that I don't even like to call to order Chinese food.

So I'm afraid I'll be too timid to try some of the equipment. Will I be too scared to take the yoga class or head towards the pool? Luckily a personal trainer is included with the cost and she's there all day every day. They start you off with a routine and every 30 days, they look at your results and make necessary changes. That helps.

Still, I'm nervous.

The Daily Show clip mentioned in my last entry

Juliet Eilperin

Hopefully this will work this time.

Things that make you go, "AHHHHHHHHH."

Thanks to Windyridge, I read this infuriating entry. Has This Country Gone Completely Insane?

I screamed. I shook my head in disbelief. I sent a link to my husband.

The Daily Show re-aired an older episode last week. I missed it the first time around, but caught it this time. Jon Stewart's guest was Juliet Eilperin, author of Fight Club Politics: How Partisanship Is Poisoning the House of Representatives.

I laughed at the end of their conversation, but I think crying may have been a more appropriate response.

Stewart: So you covering [politics] for 12 years... corrosive to the soul?

Eilperin: Yes. In fact I became so depressed doing it that I focused more on the environment, things like whaling in the North Western Hawaiian Islands, that you did earlier.

Stewart: So you choose to focus on the raping and pillaging of the environment rather than cover politics because...

Eilperin: I find it less depressing.

My thanks are extended to Loaded Mouth because I found the exact text and video there.

A note to my children.

Okay, now you're even. Enough already.

Girl1 wound up in the ER a few months ago because she managed to get into the essential oils a friend gave me for labor and SOMEONE (aka Girl2) lied to us about her drinking them. Now Girl2 has had her very own ER adventure. Now you're even.

Stop it!

That is all.

Your mother

who will be blogging from a mental institution if you don't give me a freaking break.

Friday, July 07, 2006

Shove it up your...


Add shoving rocks up noses to my kids' long list of talents.

That's it. I'm moving. I'm taking my kids and moving to the hospital. That way, the next time we need the ER, we'll be right there.

Yet another ER visit. Do ERs have frequent flyer miles? If so, I need to sign my ass up.

Hey, at least it's July now. Since our last ER visit was in June, that means I can't say, "Two visits in one month." Thank G-d for small miracles.

Way too early this morning, the girls played with rocks. I told them repeatedly to keep them away from their mouths (Remember, the DVD box incident? Girl2 has some serious oral issues). I had visions of them choking, so I told them at least four times to keep them away from their mouths.

Wait for it...

I was just getting out of bed with he who refuses to let me sleep-in (aka the Boy) when I heard Girl2 scream. She yelled that her nose hurt. Now she's a dramatic one, so I wasn't worried. It was only when I stood in front of her that it hit me. My life has turned into a freaking Home Movies episode. Yep, she shoved the rock up her nose and got it firmly wedged there.

A call to a friend lead to an attempt with tweezers, but Girl2 wouldn't let me anywhere near her with them. And so we headed out to the yellow brick road that leads to the happy shining ER (there's no place like the Emergency Room. There's no place like the Emergency Room). Luckily they were empty (it feels wrong to refer to the ER as "dead"), so we got in quickly.

I'm not sure why they thought Girl2 would let them come at her with the nostril forcepts of death and giant pinchy-looking metal tweezers (forgive me if my technical jargon leaves you confused) when she wouldn't let her own mother near her with the tiny benign variety. Their delusion didn't get very far before she pushed them away from her face (in her defense, she did really well). So off skipped the nurse in search of a tube. Moments later, off skipped the doctor, but we know not where. The nurse was surprised when she came back and the doctor was gone. She played super sleuth, though, and found him.

They squirted some saline and used the tubes to create suction on the offensive remnant of stone. Then they yanked it out. Where did it go? It flew across the room. Where did it land?

Wait for it.

On the twin sister.

At this point, the doctor said, "That's not good. That could have hit her in the eye." Apparently ours was the first time that happened. Oh joy! We're a novelty. What fun! Giddy me is clapping her hands together in delight.

Oh and it was right about here where The Boy (who was in the sling while I stood at Girl2's side) grabbed a hold of the little light thingy's cord and wouldn't let go. The doctor couldn't put it back as a result. I couldn't make the kid let go 'cause Girl2 was holding firmly to one hand which left me only a single hand with which to wrestle with He of the Super Grip.

Check, please. I'm done.

We were in and out pretty quickly and the kids were wonderful.

And hey, we have a brand new slogan for our family:

We shove more things up our noses before 9 am than most people do all day.

Wednesday, July 05, 2006


I can't be the only one who finds this more than a little tacky.

We saw it last year at the 4th of July fest and then I saw it again this year. I was thrilled to find that the friend I was there with felt the same way.

What on earth are people thinking? Are they thinking at all? I wish I could have been at the meeting where they pitched that idea...

so that I could have hit them all repeatedly.

Sunday, July 02, 2006

Shopping / (4-year-old twins + baby - deployed husband) = dreaded chaos

I'm out of milk--well, cow's milk at least (have to clearify that since I am lactating after all). Initially, I find this mildly annoying. I can't eat my Special K without milk.

Then the significance of this lack of creamy dairy goodness sets in. This means we'll have to go food shopping. FOOD SHOPPING? Oh hell!

I thought trips to the store were impossible the last time dh deployed. It was a huge hassle that I avoided at any cost. Finding those double seater carts was nearly impossible because there are only 4 of them at any given store and people who don't have two kids (or in some cases ANY KIDS) grab them because the seats give you more storage space when they're not filled by the bums of 2 children. If I grabbed a regular one and put one child in the seat and one in the back, then not only do you have very little room for groceries, but anything you put back there will become a snack for the back child when you're not looking (I can't tell you how many half empty heads of broccoli I paid for). Plus the girls potty trained at 22 months. That gave me THREE MONTHS of having to leave my cart, scoop up both girls, and run to the bathroom (and I do mean run) only to get back and have the other child (who INSISTED she didn't have to go when we were in there 10 seconds before) insist she needs to go "RIGHT NOW."

I burst into tears the first time I went food shopping in dh's absence during his last deployment. I finally got my shopping done amid the screams of two tired toddlers only to find I left THREE BAGS at the store.

On another occasion, when no double carts could be found, but we needed food in a bad way, I pushed the double stroller in front of me with one hand and pulled a shopping cart behind me with the other. While cursing under my breath and trying to blow my hair out of my face (remember, one hand on the cart + one hand on the stroller = no free hands), a man stopped me to say he wished he had brought his camera. I assured him that it wasn't physically possible for me to be more thrilled about his inability to capture that moment forever.

Now we have added to our collection of children. The magic number 2 has been replaced with 3. Three--THREE smiling/screaming faces (said in my best Sesame Street Count voice). That means six pairs of hands to grab at thing.

Although, I must say, grocery shopping isn't nearly as dramatic as it was last time around. The girls are older, so that's a lot easier to deal with. Sure there's a baby added to the mix, but it's only one baby and he's a pretty easy-going baby. On the occasions when he's not so easy-going, putting him in the sling usually takes care of that by either calming him or lulling him to sleep. Last time around, I went food shopping once a month because it was such a dreaded endeavor. The cabinets got pretty scarce and I had to get awfully creative with meals since there wasn't much from which to choose. This time, I typically go once a week.

It's not the fiasco it once was, but it's still trying. When dh was home, we would go food shopping on Sunday mornings while the girls were in Sunday school. The Boy would fall asleep in the sling while we shopped. Thus making it relatively easy to get what we needed. Plus there were two of us--two minds to remember what we needed, four arms to reach for things (including two of them that belonged to someone of average height so he could reach the high shelves and therefore not require the owner of the shorter arms to actually scale mount Wal-Mart in an attempt to reach the top shelf), and two pairs of eyes to watch the lone child in case he should get into anything. I was able to go shopping with just the boy while the girls were in class for a little while, but Sunday school ended for the summer shortly after dh left. So now I have all three kidlets along for the ride every...single...time I need to go to the store. Thus making even a simple trip an ordeal (It takes me 5-10 minutes just to get them all in the van and in their car seats much less getting them all out of the car and into the store).

And so, at some point today (unless I can create any sort of excuse to procrastinate), I'm going to have to haul my bum (and that of 3 smaller people) to the chaos that is the store. In Judaism, we have blessings for all sorts of things. There are blessings before eating a meal, blessings you say upon seeing a rainbow, blessings to say when you wake up, blessings you say before going to bed, etc. I need a blessing to say before leaving on a food shopping excursion with three children.

Although, upon arriving home (hopefully with all my bags in tow), recitation of the Sheheyanu is appropriate. :-)

Here's the translation:
Blessed are You O L-rd Our G-d Ruler of the Universe who has kept us alive, sustained us, and allowed us to reach this day.

If I should ever return home from a shopping excursion in which all the children behaved, we got everything on our list, I was able to reach all of those things without having to find something to climb on, we were done quickly, and we didn't have to make a bathroom/diaper changing stop, not only will I chant the Shehayanu, I will choreograph a whole little dance to go along with it. I'll teach the kids said dance routine too. I'll take pictures of the Sheheyanu-a-palooza. And then I'll scrap it too. It'll probably be at that point that I wake up because that could only happen IN MY DREAMS.

Experience of a Jewish U.S. Soldier in Saudi Arabia

I just read this article and I'm fighting back tears.

Experience of a Jewish U.S. Soldier in Saudi Arabia

Saturday, July 01, 2006

True Wife Confessions

I came across this site today and instantly fell in love.

Some of these are heartbreaking, but a good deal of them are absolutely hysterical.

True Wife Confessions

It's a place that gives women the chance to say things they otherwise might not.

And please note that no, I have never submitted one.

Here are my favorites thus far:

  • Confession #081
I hate that I'm always the one to get up in the middle of the night to see what the dogs are barking at. It's dark out there and we don't have any neighbors to jump in to save me while you're snoring away. You're the one with the fancy new hunting rifle and super-duper hunting skills, and I'm the one with the MagLite flashlight.
Who would you rather have protecting us in the dead of the night?

  • Confession #094
I purposefully waited until your butt touched the chair before asking you to get me something to drink because you seem to do it to me all the time. Didn't like it very much did ya?

  • Confession #096
If you text me again asking me to transfer money to your account so you can
buy shit for yourself, I will throw away your cell phone.

  • Confession #100
I resent paying for Head and Shoulders shampoo so much that I have been
buying generic shampoo and putting it into the same Head and Shoulders
bottle for over two years. Honey, you're bald and you don't need shampoo
anymore. You especially don't need one that controls dandruff. You have
more hair on your ass than you do on your head and you use soap on your ass.
Enough already!