This post brought to you by the number 10 and the letter C.

Okay, I got C for the grattitude thing. Let's see...

1. Costumes. I'm such a dork, but I LOVE Halloween. I also love dress-up and watching my kids play. Add to all that the fact that my brother has a pretty cool costume collection which has made him a favorite among my kids.

2. Children. I'm very grateful for my 3 (and hoping for another). And while we had some issues with creating/having them, I realize our path was not nearly as frightening as it could have been.

3. Challah (the bread we eat on Shabbat). That stuff is GOOD. I also love that I can make it with my kids. They just love braiding the dough to make it themselves. And FTR, the apple challah our shul has for Rosh Hashanah is FABULOUS.

4. Cats. I'm an animal person and always have been (note the picture of a 3-year-old me with my fuzzy sisters* *photo removed). If we weren't military, we'd have a dog too (traveling with dogs and caring for them by myself when dh deploys does not sound like fun), but for now, we just have the cats. Even though they can drive me nuts, I love 'em. And besides, sometimes, they provide me with fodder for the blog. You've gotta be thankful for that.

5. Calculators. The public school system crushed my ability to do math in my head once we moved on to pre-calc and all that stuff. So now I rely on calculators in order to do any math at all.

6. Camera. I adore taking pictures. Without my camera, I wouldn't have been able to document so much of dh and my life together as well as the lives of our kids. Very few pictures exist from my childhood, so I'm particularly thankful for all the pictures I've been able to take of my kids.

7. Candles. Whether it be shabbat, Chanukah or a yarzeit, I'm so very thankful to be able to sanctify the day with candles. I light the candles and say the blessings with my kids just like so many other Jews around the world have done for centuries. There's nothing like sharing that connection.

8. Cousins. Family is hugely important to me. I'm so very thankful that I'm close to my cousins. I'm also very VERY thankful that my children have a chance to know their cousins and to form friendships with them.

9. Cloth diapers. They've saved us a ton of money they help save the environment and they're cute as hell.

10. Coffee. I have three children, insomnia, and until recently, a deployed husband. Coffee is my friend.

I'm tagged and grateful.

Giselle has tagged me for this journaling challenge. Okay, I'll bite (no, not really. Well, yeah really, but that can get kinda TMI, so the only thing I'll bite right now is my tongue). This looks like it's right up my alley.

I went to the generator (see Giselle's post) and it gave me H.

Here are 10 things that start with the letter H for which I'm grateful. I'm not gonna take days to ponder this. I'm following Giselle's lead and just going with the ones that pop into my head.

1. Heroes (the people, not the show). Granted, I'm grateful for dh, his friends, and our family members who are heroes because they're veterans, but I'm also thankful for everyday heroes. Everyone out there has their own hardships to endure. Some people shoulder through those hardships and go on to give back in ways that are just astounding. I am lucky enough to have known some of those people. I'm forever in awe of them and I'm trying to decide on a huge life change as a direct result of one of them. A number of my friends are my heroes for different reasons. You may not consider your life to be exceptional, but just by being your funny/caring/sweet self, you are touching lives in ways you may never full understand.

2. Hiltons (as in Paris and Nicki). To quote Dr. Seuss, "You ought to be thankful a whole heaping lot for the places and people you're lucky you're not." :-)

3. Huge goofy grins. I just glanced over at a picture of the kids that's here on my desk and in it, Girl1 has her typical huge funny-looking grin. All my kids have mastered that. It cracks me up.

4. Home. I am so very thankful that we have been able to create our home wherever we happen to be. I love this Oliver Wendell Holmes quotation because I think it's so perfect for a military family:“Where we love is home, home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.”

5. Horseradish. Hey, it makes everything taste better.

6. Help. I don't like to ask for it, but I'm SO very thankful that there are those around me who are willing to offer their help.

7. Help! No, I'm not being redundant. I'm refering to the Beatles' song.

8. Hope. Um...I can't think of any way to explain this one. It should be pretty obvious.

9. Harry Potter. I LOVE those books. My husband loves those books. My kids love those books.

10. Head (the one on your shoulders. GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER!). Because um...er...I guess without one, life would suck. "Your feet are going to be on the ground. Your head is there to move you around." Sorry. It's stuck in my head (no pun intended) and I had to share the joy that is that song with you all.

Oh, oh, oh, and I'll add a bonus:

11. Hebrew. It's the language of my people. My children sing the same Hebrew songs that their great great great great great grandparents sang many years ago. It's a tie that joins Jews together. And besides, without it, I wouldn't have a name. :-)

Now, does anyone else care to join the challenge? This could prove to be very interesting. What happens when the generator gives one of us the letter X? There are only so many X things for which I can be grateful.

Ut oh. I just had a flashback to my (now former) SIL's bridal shower. I didn't go (It was in a different state. I couldn't stand her. And to top it off, her brilliant goy family scheduled the shower for Tisha B'av), but I was assigned the letter V. Oh, you stupid stupid people! I almost considered going just so I could give her the PERFECT V gift (a vibrating cucumber).

Gather round in a circle everyone.

Let's all come sit together on the rug for sharing time.

This is interactive blogging at its finest.

I'll throw out a topic and you all leave your answers in the comment section. Feel free to take this as a blog topic idea for your blog as well. Let me know you're doing it and I promise I'll pop over to take a look.

Here's today's sharing time topic:

What's the cruelest thing anyone has ever said to you?

Did mom say something that left you bawling? Did a stranger (at Walmart--the idiots are always at Walmart) say something that made you want to punch them in the face? Has your kid said something that made you wish you could sell them on ebay?

Do tell. Enquiring minds want to know.

By the power of Gray Skull...

I swear I had no idea this existed:

The Bitter Rose

Although, I am admittedly thrilled by these findings. I did so adore He-Man (and of course his sister She-rah).

I also found there is another Bitter Rose out there who apparently has a thing for reptiles (sooooo not me). There's some Christian-themed book that shares my name as well as a play. And did you know the name Rosemarie also means "Bitter rose?"

Hey, you learn something new every day.

Um...ah...

Testing. Testing. 1-2-3

I get by with a little help from my friends.

I love my friends.

My friends keep me smiling. They keep me laughing. They keep me sane.

Yeah, one could argue that last part, but at least they keep me as sane as I'm gonna get.

I don't have anything specific to report, but I've just gotten a lot of support lately.

I adore my husband. For those who see us together, we may not seem too lovely-dovey, but at home at night, we are (and I don't mean it in the TMI way although yeah, that too). He's my very best friend. But he's a guy and there's just so much to the female mind/life/mood that he can't understand. My girlfriends, however, get it. For that, I am eternally grateful.

I recently did this tarot card reading thing to try to get some insight about the baby issue (I'm not as newagey as I sound, but I'm pretty open-minded). One of the cards I got was the 8 of coins and I didn't think it fit at all (the others all did quite well). I sent the reading to Giselle and she pointed out that one aspect of that card is not asking for help. Yeah, that's me. I would much prefer to do things myself rather than ask for help. I'm fiercely proud of the fact that even after an epidural, I insisted on putting my own feet in the stirups. With my friends, though, I don't need to ask for help. They know I need it without me having to say a word.

I will be forever grateful for their kind words, hugs, stupid jokes, and even their silence while they let me vent.

CONGRATS.

Who would have thought that what I needed to help pull me out of the baby-related funk is yet another pregnancy (someone else's not mine)?

A friend (who shall remain anonymous until she outs herself publically) just told me her news. Bless her heart! She was worried about how I'd take it (we've both been ranting to each other about our birth experiences and how we feel around pregnant women). I'm not at all upset. I'm just thrilled for her. I know I said I needed a break from the pregnancy stuff, but honestly, I'm not at all upset. I'm just super excited and very very happy.

She's been trying for a long time. Although she doesn't always think so, she's a fantastic mother. She deserves this.

I'm SO excited for her and her husband. Yay!

Dear pregnant ladies (since there are so freaking many of you),

I don't want to hear about babies! I don't want to hear about pregnancy. I don't want to hear about birth. I don't care who you are. I don't care how bad/wonderful of a time you had/are having.

I don't want to hear about it.

Those who know/love me should realize these discussions are NOT a good idea on any day, but TODAY they are a really bad idea for oh so many reasons.

If you're happy, then I'm thrilled for you, but I just need a break.

Please, PLEASE, can we pick a different topic?

Grudgingly/begrudgingly yours,
Reiza

P.S. backstory can be found here.

Pearl Harbor

Today is the 65th anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor. Kamrin already posted a fabulous entry about it. Go there and read it (see my "read" list).

I can't say anything more than she does, but I wanted something here to acknowledge the day.

Just because this made me laugh

I simply must share this entry from Science Fiction Twin. We could all use a giggle.

The Inelegant Universe

When I read it a few days ago, I laughed. I just read it again and laughed yet again. Anything that is that powerful deserves to be shared. :-)

Stealing a survey from Kamrin

Where are you people? I go away for a week and my readers vanish.

Hello, hello, hello
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone at home?

Sorry, it seemed like a good time to bust into a Pink Floyd song. Then again, is it ever a bad time to do so? My roomate freshman year and I didn't always get along well, but damn it, she had great taste in music (aside from Live. Ohhh how I hate Live).

Wow. I really took a trip into Tangentland, didn't I? I'm sorry about that.

Anyway, I'm stealing this survey from Kamrin:

What was your first car?
A grey 1991 Nissan Stanza (nicknamed the Phairmobile because of the Liz Phair sticker I had on the back).

When did you go to your first funeral?
My aunt's when I was 16. I wasn't allowed to go to my other aunt's when I was 2 and 1/2 nor my grandfather's when I was 6 (almost 7). I still wish I could have been there.

Who was your first grade teacher?
Ms. Pamela. To this day, she's one of my very favorite teachers.

Where did you go on your first ride on an airplane?
California when I was 6 or 7.

When you snuck out of your house for the first time, who was it with?
I was alone.

Who was your first best friend and are you still friends with them?
A girl my family called "Little Michelle" was my first best friend. My parents occasionally run into her mom. Apparently she's married and living in FL now. I haven't seen her since we were little kids, though.

Who is the first person you talked to this morning?
Dh

Whose wedding were you in the first time?
My oldest sister's.

What is the first thing you do in the morning?
Open my eyes. After that, I silently plead with G-d to give me at least a few more minutes of rest.

What was the first concert you ever went to?
Tiffany and no I'm not ashamed.

First tattoo or piercing?
I got my ears pierced when I was 6 or 7.

First celebrity crush?
tie: Michael Jackson and David Hasselhof.

First crush?
Sammy. He was a friend of mine when I was about 8.

When was your first detention?
Freshman year. My honors English class was a nightmare for substitutes. When we made one run crying and refuse to sub again at our high school, our regular teacher gave us detention when she came back.

My brother is a dork,

but that's okay. So am I.

For the first time ever, I will post a picture of one of my children here. This occurance is a direct result of my brother's dorkiness (and his costume collection which stems from the aforementioned dorkiness).

This is Darth Girl2. She is wearing my brother's mask and cape while playing with one (yes, he has more than one) of his lightsabers. Have I mentioned that my brother is pushing 40? These are not his kids' toys. His son is a baby. These are MY BROTHER'S toys.

Not that I'm faulting him for it. I think it's pretty freaking cool. You see, my brother is not alone in his dorkiness. :-) I'm sitting right beside him on that bench. My kids think my brother is absolutely fantastic. They already thought their uncle was pretty cool, but after busting out all this stuff, they damn near worshipped him. Rightfully so, too. My brother kicks ass!

Here is my brother playing with (and I swear he's not really attacking her no matter how it may appear) one of the girls. Note that he willngly made do with a broom stick. He let the kids have all the lightsabers.

Have I mentioned my brother's a dork? Have I mentioned I adore him for it? Yeah, I thought so, but I just had to do it one more time.

I survived a 16 hour road trip with three kids...

and all I got are these circles under my exhausted eyes.

We got in last night.

We had a fantastic time.

I'll post a brief recap (complete with pictures which I very rarely post) very soon.

Check back soon.

Not enough hours in the day

We'll be making a trip to visit family out of state on Tuesday. This will be a 15-HOUR drive to visit family out of state. This will be a 15-HOUR drive WITH THREE CHILDREN.

I am insane.

Either that or I'm the world's best sister for being willing to do this to visit my brother and sister. I'm gonna go with the best sister thing. It sounds far less sinister plus it would give me an excuse to wear my crown (not that I need an excuse, but it would be nice to have a reason if someone asks).

That means we have a lot of running around to do tomorrow. Mild panic beginning to set in. There aren't nearly enough hours in the day for this.

I may very well be THE WORLD'S BEST SISTER (such a title should be in all caps), but I am also insane as well.

Fear not, fair readers, we're bringing the laptop to my brother's (who is oh so graciously saving us about a thousand dollars by letting us stay with him. WORLD'S BEST BROTHER award goes out to him), so I should still be able to blog from there. It won't be nearly as frequently, but I should be able to pop on now and then.

After 15 hours of driving (plus all the bathroom breaks), I'm gonna have LOTS to blog about.

Forget the crown. I'm gonna need liquor.

South Park lost its allure for me years ago...

but when Her Bad Mother pointed her readers in the direction of a site where one can find the inner SouthParkian self, I jumped on it.

I don't post pictures of myself, but I'll make an exception just this once:



And yes, I really do insist on wearing a crown IRL. You only think I'm kidding.

If I believed in a hell...

I would SO be going there.

Why? Because I have not only taken to laughing at the poor cat, but I have now nicknamed her Funnel Face. I'm not just revelling in her misfortune, I'm making fun of it as well.

I suck, but hey, at least I'm laughing.

She is awfully funny...pathetic, but funny too.

If the girls are Girl1 and Girl2, then this would be Cat2 (aka Funnel Face). She is forever getting into something. She's not that bright and she's accident prone. Not a fun combo.

Yesterday, she cut her foot. A trip to the vet resulted in 3 hours under anesthesia so they could "stitch" (they really glued) her up, wrap her foot, and send her home with her very own funnel.

Poor, poor Funnel Face. I really do feel sorry for you. Unfortunately, I also feel highly amused by you.


I must not only mock her misfortune, but also record it in photographic form.

Doesn't this picture just scream, "I'm going to kill you in your sleep if you keep laughing at me"?

Jews in green

Pammer had a great question about being Jewish in the military. She asked, "Just curious... are there many jews in the military? Or is it hard to lead a jewish life while enlisted?"

There are more Jews than you might think, but yes, it is difficult to be a Jewish military family.

I had about 4 Jewish friends in college (small school with a very small Jewish community). I've completely lost track of one, but of the other three, 2 of them spent time in the military. One had to leave the Marines fairly early on due to a health issue, but another is in the Army. He's stationed in Iraq now and has been for a while (his wife just had a gorgeous baby girl about 4 months ago. He got to come home for a week to see her and went right back).

The title of this post is actually taken from this website: Jews In Green. Their tagline is "The ultimate source for Jewish service members." So apparently there are enough of us out there to warrant a website on the matter.

My mother's boss (who is also Jewish) keeps making insane comments about my husband being in the military. He likes to repeatedly ask, "Who has ever heard of a Jew in the military?" My response is always the same. "Have you never heard of ISRAEL where military service is mandatory?"

We are, however, still greatly outnumbered. Getting off for the high holidays is impossible for dh. He's been able to attend services twice during his entire military career. He's always either out of the country or in training. Once, they just refused to give him off. I love my husband, though, because he still insisted on working Xmas that year even though they offered him the day off. His thinking was that he'd rather work so someone who actually celebrated the day could have off. Oh how I adore my husband!

Keeping kosher was impossible for dh when he was deployed. If you can go into town, it's not so bad because the Muslim dietary laws are very similar to ours. When you're confined to the base or in an area where the towns are hostile, you eat what the military serves you and that's usually nowhere remotely near kosher. Dh just came in the room, so I asked him for his thoughts on keeping kosher while deployed. Here's his response, "Impossible. I'd starve."

One aspect that makes it difficult is the military tends to station you in places you would never consider living otherwise. For us, that means we wind up living in places that have small Jewish communities. We're both originally from an area that had a good-sized Jewish community. In high school, the entire town had the Jewish holidays off. Here, the public school system doesn't even acknowledge them. I actually love where we're living now, but it's not a hotbed of Jewish culture by any stretch of the imagination.

All the parties are Xmas parties. They tried to call it a "holiday" party a few years ago, but that's when Chanukah was very early and so the party was actually held after Chanukah. So it was a Christmas party no matter what they called it.

The kids used to go to a playgroup sponsored by the military. At the party for that playgroup last year, someone walked up to me and asked, "Are you the Jew?" I was more than a little taken aback. Turns out she meant well. She wanted to know because all the other kids got Xmas books, but she had gotten secular toys for my girls. I was thrilled that she had gone out of her way. I was just a little taken aback at being asked if I was "the Jew."

Here's a quasi-related story about Chanukah in the military: Protestant B. Not. I've read it before and I love it. I figure this is a good forum in which to share it.

Some of the difficulties are specific to the military. Some of them have to do with living where we do. Some of them we know we'd have to deal with in the civilian world as well. We're pretty good at adapting, though. If you're a military family and you don't get that adapting thing down quickly, you either won't be military for long or you won't be a family for long.

To be a Jewish family in the military, sometimes we have to march to the beat of our own drum. Other times, we have to bring our own full orchestra. :-)

The glutton for punishment strikes againand this tme she's headed for Wal-martwith small children in tow.

We are headed food shopping this morning.

For my long-time readers, you'll know what a fiasco that can be.

It's FAR easier now that the husband is home (let me pause now to bow down in thanks for that), but it's still a hassle with three little ones.

And so, as I embark on this great journey, please keep me in your thoughts. L-rd knows we can use thoughts and prayers while we're at Wal-Mart.

If I should return home alive (and in one piece), upon walking through the front door, I will make the profound statement, "One small step for (a) man. One giant leap for a frazzled mother of twins and a baby (oh yeah and her husband too)."

Photos for holiday cards (aka I'm a glutton for punishment)

I came across this blog entry about rules for holiday photo shoots and I must share.

Great stuff. Rule #2 is brilliant. Why oh why did I never think of that? 1 and 2 are pretty useful as well.

A brief jaunt through the old harddrive would produce the 30-some-odd photos my sister took in an insane attempt to get a family photo for the holiday card.

Since we're Jewish and most of our friends are not, we send out New Year cards. I like to pat myself on the back and think it's a brilliant idea for two reasons: #1. No worry about covering all the holidays/trying to find generic winter cards (because while Chanukah photo cards do apparently exist, they are very good at hiding. Chanukah photo cards = The Jewish mom's bigfoot) and #2. It can be done AFTER the chaos of the gift-giving holidays

Ever since the twins were born, I've been a big fan of photo cards. When the twins were toddlers, dh was deployed and I apparently had a death wish. I had an exact vision of the holidy photo I wanted. It involved me wearing my military wife locket in Bubbe's chair (dh's grandmother's wingchair), the girls in their pretty new fancy Chanukah dresses, a picture of dh in uniform next to dh's boots (when you're stationed in the desert, they issue you different boots from your everyday uniform) which would hold a single rose from the boquet he sent me while deployed.

If you have children and/or have tried to photograph children, I assume you're rolling around on the floor right now laughing at my insanity. Feel free to pause here until you can see through the tears that I'm sure your laughter has caused.

My sister came to take the picture. G-d bless her, she tried and tried and tried and tried some more. We got lots of photos of the kids climbing on me, running away, grabbing for the rose, trying to step into dh's boots, and other random "fun." We did not, however, get anything remotely resembling the picture I had imagined. We didn't even get a shot that could be called acceptable. We did, however, wind up with a funny story to share, a chance to commiserate with other parents (particularly those with more than one child) who also had delusions of grandeur, and lots of pictures I can use when my kids grow up and try to pull that, "It's all your fault," card. I think not. Look at the crap you put me through. Your father was deployed. My life was stressful as hell. All I wanted was one decent photograph, but would you comply? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. You insisted on actively trying to make my life miserable. I shouldn't be blamed for your problems. I should be commended for not selling you on ebay.

Whoops, we took a brief detour into Tangentland. Sorry about that.

Anyway, yeah, taking holiday pictures can be stressful.

Anyone have any stories about taking holiday pictures (or taking pictures in general) of the kids to share? I'm all ears. It's even better if you share the photographic evidence.

Acquaintance vs. Friend

Here's an example from my real life:

When you insist you're going to kill someone, an acquaintance will laugh politely. A friend, however, will ask, "Do you need help hiding the body or do you have that covered?"

a collaborative weblog of practical parenting wisdom

aka this site could save your life.

Check this out: parent hacks.

Lots of tips for parents. I particularly like this one. We tried something similar with the bigger kids and it really made a difference.

I also like the tip about using a kitchen cart as a changing table. We went NUTS looking for a dresser the right height so that we could just attach the handy changing pad we bought. Never did find said dresser, so we actually did spend big bucks for a dresser/changing table combo at the You-Must-Buy-All-This-Crap-That-
You'll-Never-Use-Or-You're-A-Bad-
Parent-Mega-Baby-Stuff-Store.
At the time, we had not one, but TWO kitchen carts including one that was SUPER sturdy. Well, it's too late for us, but maybe someone will find that useful.

The third time around, we just change the baby on the floor. Dirtbag mom or realistic mom? You be the judge.

The joys of homeschooling

While at dinner the other night, we had a mini-math lesson. The girls traded things back and forth and we asked them to total them up. I commented to dh, "Don't you just love homeschooling? We went out for Chinese and got a math class for free." :-)

When we went out yet again tonight (completely my fault. I got stir crazy and had to get out of the house before I put all the kids up on ebay), we skipped the math lesson, but maybe we shouldn't have.

You see, we got these LOVELY fried jalapenos stuffed with cheese as an appetizer (horrible for the waistline, but magnificent for the taste buds). There were six total. They served them on skewers, 2 to a skewer. Dh and I split them. The bigger kids actually adore spicy foods, but my husband and I are greedy.

There were so many math lessons to be had. What a wasted opportunity!

• There are 3 skewers. Each has 2. How many is that total?
  
• How would you divide them so your parents each have the same amount?
  
• How many different ways could you split them up between your parents (you'll get a higher grade on this quiz if you short-change your dad)?
  
• Let's count how many times your baby brother reaches for the fattening fried cheesy jalapeno goodness before your parents wise up and move him the heck over.
• If your mother grabs all the jalapenos, how fast would she have to be traveling to get away quickly enough to eat them before your father catches up?

New addition to the reading list

First and foremost, Crib Chick's blog pointed me in the direction of the Ramblin Educat (which I will be adding to my "read" list in the next few moments. Go check it out (along with my other "reads" because if I take time out of my busy day to read them, you know they've got to be good). While looking through the blogroll there, I noticed quite a few of the blogs I used to read (and still would if there were more hours in the day).

I particularly liked the Veterans' Day entry from that blog: Loving Rome More

I also liked this entry which made me think of a dearly beloved friend who teaches high school English. Oh, the stories she has told me! That entry made me giggle and anything that makes me giggle must be shared. Enjoy.

Veterans Day

I wanted to post about Veterans' Day, but honestly, I just don't have the words. Yes, that's very strange to admit. I always have something to say, including (or maybe especially) those times when I should just shut up and sit down. I just can't find a way to put all my thoughts into a cohesive entry that really lets you inside my mind.

I can't explain my thoughts, so maybe I'll tell you about my actions. I honored the day with my family.

My husband is so many things. There are so very many sides to him and he plays so many roles. It sometimes baffles me that in addition to everything else, he is a veteran. It's been a part of our lives for years, so it shouldn't be a shock, but every once in a while, the reality of it hits me. It's only then when I can fully realize how very blessed I am.

Regardless of my feelings toward this conflict (and administration), I recognize that we celebrate the many freedoms we have thanks to the sacrifice of veterans.

My husband is a good man. My husband is a veteran. My husband is safe. My husband is home.

Baruch Atah Adonai Elohaynu Melech Ha'olam Sheheyanu Vikeeyamanu v'heegeyanu lazman hazeh
Blessed are You O L-rd Our G-d Ruler of the Universe who has enabled us to see this joyous day.

We went to an event yesterday where I read a mother's account of losing her son to the Iraqi conflict. Her story was accompanied by a picture of the man smiling in his desert BDUs, the same uniform my husband wore every day until one week ago.

I felt my eyes tear up, but for the first time in a long time, I didn't have to fight the tears back. I didn't have to worry about being the strong single parent while dh was away. I didn't have to run to the computer in the evening and type up a short e-mail telling dh I loved him (in which I couldn't possibly explain what lead to the blubbering love e-mail because you just don't write about death to those who are deployed).

Instead, I walked over to my husband, I hugged him, I cried, I kissed him and then I told him I loved him.

That is how I spent my Veterans' Day.

Sorry for the silence

Lots has happened here.

Dh is home. The kids are thrilled, but are very good at testing boundaries. The Boy has learned to use "Dada" in reference to his daddy rather than to signify the telephone and/or pictures. The Boy has even started asking for the daddy in the morning, even before the child starts demanding the cats. That's a big deal because that child does so love to torture his fuzzy sisters. I'm very very happy to have my husband home. Life has been a bit of a whirlwind while we try to find a ballance between what needs to be done, what we want to do, and all the adjustments we must fit into place.

While I've been ecstatic about dh's homecoming, I'm also heartbroken for a friend. When she told me she was pregnant a few weeks ago, I was literally in tears I was so excited for her. If anyone in the world deserves more children, it's this friend of mine. She's a fantastic mom. She has always been one of my idols of motherhood. She's fun. She's creative. She's brilliant. She's gentle. She's loving.

Earlier this week, she lost her baby. You'll understand why I haven't felt much like updating. I'm just SO saddened for her. I'm also a little mad at the world right now. Not only did this friend truly deserve another baby, that baby deserved a chance to have such wonderful parents.

My posts will probably be sporadic for a while. I hope you understand.

I promise I'll be back with more of my eccentric insight in the near future.

Until then, here's a chihuahua in a clown costume. Enjoy:

To do list

I'm quite proud of what I've checked off the to do list thus far.

• Clean out the storage boxes at the foot of our bed. CHECK.
• Put boxes back in some semblance of order. CHECK
• Vacuum bedroom rug. CHECK
• Clear out the van. CHECK (although I need to remember to take the stroller out of the trunk so there's room for dh's luggage)
• Empty random bags lying around. CHECK
• Take out the garbage (on Tuesday night. Seems like the small things are the only things I fight. Sorry, I had a Liz Phair moment). CHECK
• Regrout the bath tub. CHECK And no, I'm not kidding. I started regrouting it when I was pregnant. My water broke while I was in the process
• Gather the Halloween decorations CHECK, but I still need to get them in the attic.
• Buy new underwear. CHECK. Of course Fredericks of Hollywood doesn't have a link to the corset set I got or I'd share it with ya. I try on damn near everything in the store and of course the one thing I settle on is something they don't have on the website. Figures.
  
• Straighten up the kitchen. CHECK
  
• Get manicures for self and bigger kids. CHECK

So hey, not too shabby of a day. I still have more work to do, but it shouldn't be too bad, plus I have friends coming to help.

The oddest thing happened yesterday. I opened up all the Winter clothes boxes and took out the clothes--mine and dh's. It was so strange, but very exciting to put his clothes back. I also moved towels around and hung up one for him. I busted out his pillow and put a case on it. I didn't realize how the evidence of his existance faded in his absence. We think about him all the time and there are pictures everywhere, so it didn't hit me until I was in the process of putting his things back.

Tomorrow is the big anniversary party at the gym and I'm really looking forward to that. There will be free food and prizes. My sister's coming with me. It should help break up the day and keep me from going completely insane (some would argue that I went there years ago and have been selling commemorative t-shirts by the side of the road ever since, but I digress). I'm gonna wear some tiny jeans. Everyone there always sees me in my dumpy workout clothes. They've never seen me madeup, so I'm going to show off a bit. :-) I've made some great friends at the gym, so I'm really looking forward to this party.

And now, I bid thee fare well. I should have been in bed a while ago, but I needed a brief distraction. My posting will be a bit sporatic for a while. I'm sure you'll all understand, though.

Add this to the wishlist

Forgive me for drooling, but I am absolutely in LOVE with these rings.

I'm all about the photos of the kids. I'm also all about jewlery. Combine the two and I may very well squeal with delight. Oh, and she'll engrave names/sentiments on the ring as well. If I start levitating from the ecstatic joy, please grab me by the ankle and pull me back down.

I'm afraid to ask about pricing, though.

Late breaking news

This just in to your local news: An area woman has been arrested on counts of attempting to sell her children on Ebay and when that auction was pulled, she then acted in a manner which has now lead to new charges of attempted murder.

Said the frazzled mother, "I'm pleading not guilty by reason of insanity. They won't let me sleep DAMN IT. If you had to get by caring for three heathens, with no spouse to help for this long on this little sleep, you'd be freaking nuts too!"

She was then lead away in handcuffs while singing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" repeatedly...and in Hebrew.

Chickens and muppets

You guys, I'm seriously addicted to these chickens.

Here's another cartoon in honor of my recent muppet obsession:

These chickens are living my life.

I'm not making a statement.

I'm just sharing this because it made me giggle.



Trying to work the kinks out with the new blog (I made the mistake of switching this to Beta a few days ago and that's making it damn near impossible to import my posts from here to another service). It should be finished in the not too distant future.

Movin' right along. Foot-loose and fancy free.Gettin' there is half the fun; come share it with me.

I'm tired of the problems with Blogger. I'm taking my toys and going home.

As we speak, I'm working on a new blog elsewhere. There's apparently a glitch because it's giving me a hard time importing this blog there. When I get that fixed, I'll share the link to my new home.

In the meantime, can anyone tell me where the song I used in my title is from? No cheating!

Mild panic sets in

I'm beginning to panic.

I don't know how much of it is stress, how much of it is not getting enough sleep, or how much of it is just the fact that I'm pretty sure I'm certifiably insane.

Dh is due home very soon, but there's too much to do.

The house is a pit. I need to dye my hair again and then get it cut before dh comes home. I promised the girls a manicure before daddy gets home if they'd stop biting their nails already. Not that they have stopped biting their nails, mind you, but I figure they can get manicures while I'm getting my hair cut. Although, that still leaves the boy and if I'm in the high up chair with a drape on getting my hair chopped, I won't be able to wrangle him.

This week is busy as hell. I usually turn to my sister for help, but she's back in school and ballancing all sorts of stuff. So she's not terribly available.

How the hell am I gonna get everything done? I don't think my expectations are unrealistic. I'm not planning on completely repainting every exposed surface in the house before dh's impending arrival. I just want to clean. There's a thick layer of dust on everything of which I'm not a fan. The kids' too small clothes are all over the place that need to be packed away. While I'm doing that, I have to talk myself out of a dive into DepressionVille while I ask myself, "Why am I packing these away? Why not just sell them? We're done anyway." I have clothes scattered everywhere. About 2 weeks' worth of mail is scattered randomly throughout the house. The carpets need to be shampooed because the damn cat threw up in not one, but TWO rooms. The rocking chair has been completely useless for a month now because when I repainted that room last month, I piled a bunch of stuff on there and have yet to take it off.

I don't have any huge projects to accomplish, but there are lots and lots of little things.

I'm just feeling like I'm never gonna get this done. And so, the panic has set in.

A deep-seeded hatred

My children hate me.

Yesterday, The Boy woke up at promptly 5 am. He usually sleeps straight through the night, so when I stayed up until 1, I didn't think much of it. Well, even after nursing, he refused to go to sleep. Then he woke his sisters up. While he fell back to sleep before 6 am, his sisters woke up shortly after 5 and were up for good.

I am NOT a morning person. I usually try to stay in bed until at least 8 am. Since I went to bed at 1 and the kids were up for good at 5, I got 4 hours of sleep.

But hey, the clocks go back. I get an extra hour. I could deal. Ha ha ha ha ha ha.

I was going to nap when The Boy did, but of course I wasn't tired then. When I finally started to feel tired, he woke up.

I had to stay up last night doing laundry (it was Shabbat, so I couldn't do the cleaning during the day), so I didn't get to bed until after 11 (I planned on going to bed around 8 or 9 to catch up on lost sleep). Still, the thought of that extra hour comforted me.

My children, however, had other ideas. The Boy was up before 5. He took a while to go back to sleep and woke the sisters up. They not only refused to go back to sleep, but started opening and closing their door repeatedly (their room is right next to mine and I'm sensitized to the sound of that door. My mommy sensor goes off every time it opens or closes and that completely rouses me from sleep).

I tried laying down with the girls in hopes that my presence would force them to SHUT THE HELL UP AND STAY STILL. It actually did accomplish that, but Girl2 is stuffy. She couldn't fall back to sleep and her sniffling kept me up. So I went back to my room assuming the girls were calm enough and close enough to sleep. WRONG. They were instantly up and bouncing. Then they woke The Boy up.

I turned up the heat and started a hot bath in the hopes that by the time I was done with a bath, everyone would be asleep and I could do the same. No such luck.

I'm ready to throttle them all.

I NEED TO GET SOME FUCKING SLEEP!

My father, the Hero

I got the kids Batman jammies. Here's a discussion the pajamas inspired:

Me: That's Batman. Batman is Daddy's favorite superhero.
Girl1: Daddy is my favorite superhero.

To that, I must say, "ITA."

What's in a name?

This link is fun to play around with. How many people are there in the U.S. with your name? You can search for first and last name or one of each.

How Many Of Me

If you come from a large family (or a small one that likes to marry and divorce then marry again in one insanely long unending cycle), this could keep you busy for a while.

Enjoy.

Military Commercial

My take on that commercial

Initially, when I saw the video above, I was really moved. As a military wife, though, I find myself getting more cynical. I'm glad to find everyone is embracing the troops rather than villifying them as was done 30 years ago. Still, I have to wonder what else these people are doing to support our troops.

Slapping a sticker on your car or applauding is appreciated, but there is SO much more you can do to support our troops and their families. If you need ideas, head over here. You can also visit Sgt Mom which features links for those wanting to help. While there, I found Socks for Soldiers. Kamrin, that one's for you.

Please keep applauding, but if you really respect our troops, show them that in a more concrete way.

Worried. Ecstatic. Depressed. Guilty.

So go my moods.

I got some fabulous news. It's great news, much better than I had hoped. It's wonderful dance on the rooftops news.

Although, now I'm feeling guilty and depressed because my reaction is all about me. I should be celebrating for someone else, but instead I'm horribly upset. Then I feel awful because I really do want to celebrate. I didn't think I'd react this way. I thought I could just be happy like everyone else. I don't want to make this about me.

But that's where my mind went and I can't get it out of that hole. I want to talk to dh about it, but I really would rather not dump emotional baggage on him now plus he's working, so it's not like he could call. Even if he could, he'd sit there silently. I know he doesn't want me to hurt, but I don't think he really understands how deep this pain goes. I'm not sure he wants to understand.

No one else gets it. So there's nowhere for me to turn. One friend has a better idea than the others, but she's not around. No one else gets it. Some sympathize and I'm so glad for that, but they just can't really understand. Although, I'm not sure I'd want to turn to anyone else because I know I must seem horribly ungrateful. I shouldn't be wallowing in my own misery. I should be celebrating for someone else.

I swear I didn't know I would go to this place. I had no idea. Now that I'm here, the one thing I want most is to be in dh's arms and that's just not possible. I want to get out of this house. I want someone else to come over. I don't want to be left here alone to mourn. But it looks like that's exactly what's going to happen.

Harry Potter and the Simulated Sex Act

So Daniel Radcliffe (Harry Potter) is going to appear live on stage in the nude. Woah!

From what I've heard, he wants to show that he can do something different. Well, simulating a sex-act while astride a horse will certainly do that for ya.

FTR, Daniel Radcliffe never did really look the part as I imagined it. Then again, the German version of HP outright terrifies me. At least that's not the French version which makes the kids look like they'd be right at home with Miss Clavel.

And hey, did you know you can get Harry Potter on a kippah? Harry Potter and the Jewish Headcovering. I'm telling ya, it's in the works. Just give J.K. Rowling some time.

Dude, you should all convert. We have the best hats. Check this out:
You can also get a Rolling Stones one, a Super Man one, a pie, Gay/Jewish/American pride all in one, one for the kids, one for my sister, one for my sister's boyfriend to step on, one for a friend's son who isn't even Jewish, one for the girly girls, one for those who love binary code just a little too much (it's the Sh'ma in binary code), and let's not forget one for my husband.

Completely random, but here's the Peep version of Harry Potter. Apparently this site is old, but it's the first I've seen of it: Peeps in all sorts of interesting predicaments.

Wherein I take a stab at dream analysis

Irim took a stab at analyzing my dream. Thanks for that, but I'm not sure how true it rings.

First off, I'm a Pisces. I LOVE the ocean. It's not something frightening to me. In the dream, I wasn't afraid of the water. It was always calm and not very deep. I was afraid of the distance. I was afraid of being isolated from land. When the scary guy came, there was no way for me to get away.

My fear of the guy was because he was large and frightening. He had a creepy look on his face that only got worse when he smiled. Think of the Green Mile. The book description of the guy is actually better than the movie version. In the dream, the man coming at me was just like the physical appearance of that character, but without the gentleness. The man in the dream never spoke, but he always seemed really sinister.

Okay, here's what I think the dream is about: I think it's about my vulnerability in dh's absence.

One thing people don't realize is just how vulnerable military wives are when husbands are away. I'm not one who freaks out about everything that could go wrong, but I admit that I worry more in dh's absence.

It doesn't matter if he really could knock out an intruder. What matters is that as long as there's a male in the house, you're less likely to be a victim. People see him coming and going (particularly if he's coming and going in a military uniform) and there's the perception that there's someone there to protect you. I'm a Feminist and I don't like the idea of needing someone to protect me. I don't know that I really do, but the perception is there. If people know a man is in the house, I think people are less likely to mess with you.

Just a few nights ago, I came home from a friend's house and had to carry all the sleeping children inside one-by-one. I feel SO very vulnerable when I have to do that. I have to leave 2 children in the car while I carry in the first. Then leave another in the car while I carry in the next. Anyone who knows me at all knows that at any point in time, there is a child in that car alone while I'm doing this dance.

I can't tell many people that my husband is deployed. Then people know I'm alone and it makes me a big target for potential problems. We have lots of military pictures and memorabilia in the house, so plumbers/electricians/etc. know that my husband is military. When I have anyone in the house to do work, I have to make a point of saying my husband is "at work." We have new neighbors that I don't know. They constantly have new people over. If they have paid any attention at all to us, they know I'm alone with these kids.

So I think the dream had more to do with me feeling vulnerable both for myself and for my children.

I think the part where I easily go down the stairs, but then can't get back up may be about me feeling like I can't protect them in dh's absence. I wasn't able to get back to them. Now that I think about it, even the way I rushed down the steps and then turned around and quickly came back is similar to "Get the sleeping kids in the house" dance.

Okay, this may be REALLY random, but now that I think of it, the big man walking through the water towards me is kind of reminiscent of the images from Hurricane Katrina. I reacted horribly to Katrina. There were weeks when we didn't know if family members (who live in New Orleans) were alive. My family is from that area.

So what does that mean exactly?

As for the log he was carrying, I wasn't supposed to make it into a boat. I was supposed to ride it across as-is. In the dream, I knew I had walked through the water before, but my problem was that I couldn't get the kids across. When I saw the log, I tried to figure how I could get all 3 kids to sit on it to get across the water and I came to the conclusion that I couldn't.

As for the part where I wanted to call a friend and opted against it, I'm not quite sure what that means. Yeah, I do tend to not want to bother people, but I think that's warranted. This particular friend is one of my best friends, but she has TONS going on in her life right now. She's also pregnant, so I wonder if that doesn't someone tie into my issues surrounding pregnancy.

I'm going out on a limb here, but let's say she represents pregnancy. Maybe my brain is saying that I shouldn't even consider another pregnancy if I'm feeling unable to protect the 3 children I already have.

That's all I've got for ya for now.

Oh, as for the dh part, In the dream, part of me felt like I was saying, "Go away," just to make the person react. It was only when I said that that dh looked up. When he did come in, I was absolutely elated. I was actually really bothered when I woke up and realized he wasn't there.

Ooooohhhh, after writing that, I just realized something interesting. My mother's first husband was in the military. He was away when my brother was born. He didn't come home until my brother was 2. When he did, my brother wanted nothing to do with him. He actually told his father to, "Go away." It's interesting that I used the exact same phrase.

Hmmm...since that was immediately followed by dh's interaction with the baby, I wonder if it has to do with some unrealized concerns about how the baby will accept dh. In all honesty, I don't think I have any fears. I don't know that the baby will specifically remember dh, but I think The Boy will take to him right away. He's absolutely fascinated by men and he remembers something about dh since The Boy stares at anyone in camouflage. I think the reunion will be an easy one. But maybe there's a part of my subconscious that's worried.

Hmmm...certainly gives me something to think about.

Big thanks for the comment. It really made me take a look at the dream.

Note to self

If you're going to go through the effort of altering the sound system in the car so that the kids in the back can't hear it when you play Liz Phair, it's probably not a good idea to find yourself singing along...loudly.

Baby love, my baby love, I need you. Oh how I need you.

Sept. 3rd edit: Lots of people are finding their way to this post while searching for the lyrics I used in my title. So, to make this easier on you, here's a link to the lyrics to Baby Love by the Supremes.

I want another baby. I am not, however, having another baby.

After my son was born, we were smacked in the face with the reality that he would most-likely be our last (well, I was smacked in the face. Dh just had more fodder for his fire. I don't mean that to sound as bitter as it comes across).

Everyone around me is pregnant and honestly, it's killing me. I don't want to turn their happy news around into a story about me. I don't want to jump in every time they tell me something new about their pregnancy. I don't want them to stop sharing the joys of pregnancy with me. Honestly, I'm absolutely thrilled for them--all of them (and yes, it's quite a few folks. If you don't want a baby, please don't drink the water. Trust me, just don't do it. Use several forms of birth control if you're even going to LOOK at the water). For the most part, I stay focused on them, but then someone will say, "Next time you have a baby, you can do XYZ," and I have to remind them, there won't be a next time. Or someone will tell me how their baby is kicking and I think longingly back to my pregnancies. I hate to admit that I won't ever know that again.

There are days I think, "Just snip and let's be done," but honestly, I want to have another baby. I occasionally try to say/do/think things to force myself to not want another one, but I do.

At the end of my last pregnancy, dh said, "Maybe this will be the last one." I believe my exact response was, "Um...NO." I resisted the urge to smack him. Oh my word did I want to hit him. You just don't do that. You don't throw that on someone without warning. You don't ask them to change their vision of their life, of their family without time to process it. If we had discussed that prior to that pregnancy or even in the early stages of that pregnancy, it would have been a different story. I still wouldn't have been happy, but I would have been more open to the discussion. I need to know if this is going to be my last pregnancy. I needed time to consider what that means for all of us.

I LOVE being pregnant. I once told dh that I wanted to have 12 kids so I could be pregnant forever. I already had one potential pregnancy cancelled when our first two kids came as a matched set. So I already crossed off one of my 4 planned pregnancies. If you even want to discuss crossing not only another pregnancy off the list, but a WHOLE OTHER PERSON out of the picture I've always had for our family, then I REALLY need time to process that.

Well, that point is probably mute. I still need to go over my records with my fabulous, wonderful, awe-inspiring midwife (no, I'm not being sarcastic. SHE FREAKING ROCKS!), but it looks like the "care" I got when I had to transfer to the hospital probably left me unable to have more children. The trauma of it all left me unwilling to put myself in a hospital setting again. So even if I can get pregnant, I'm really terrified of what would happen should I need another hospital transfer.

And I have to qualify this because some people just don't get it: I adore my children. I realize how lucky I am to have them in our lives. I realize there are women who go through far more than we have to have children. I realize there are women who go through heart-wrenching loss and never have a full-term child much less three of them. I am not saying my pain is worse than anyone else's. I am not trying to deny anyone that pain. But at the same time, don't deny me my right to mourn.

I want another baby.

With dh gone, it hasn't been so bad. He's not around to discuss the topic. Since he hasn't been here, I haven't bothered to try to schedule an appointment to review my records. I want him there when we do that both as support (it's difficult for me to revisit what was done to me in the hospital) and also so we can make a decision together. I'm fairly certain that our decision will be that we're done, but there's a part of me that can't stop hoping. I don't want to be done.

I have no plans of having the baby discussion with him when he comes home. In fact, I'm planning on biting my tongue when the thought is bouncing around in my throat just trying to get out. I don't want to put that on him when he comes home. He needs to adjust without me dumping issues on him. And I just need to accept this issue is pretty much dead so I stop harassing him about it.

After The Boy was born, I often asked Dh if he thought he wanted another. His response has always been pretty much, "No, but let's not make anything permanent just yet." I didn't want to keep asking him, but I did. I guess part of me hoped one of those days he'd have something more to say. Honestly, my son's birth was one of the biggest events of my life. Afterwards, I wanted to talk about it ad-nauseum. Dh never did. When I tried to, he didn't have anything to add to the discussion. I got lucky and found a midwifery student friend of mine (who has a Psychology degree. How lucky is that?) who was willing to let me ramble and talk it over with me. She was a HUGE help, but I really wanted more of that help and validation from dh. Maybe that's part of the reason I kept asking.

What all this comes down to is that I'm not ready to give up on the wonder of another pregnancy. I'm not ready to give up on the hope to finally give birth. I'm not ready to adjust my image of family to include only three smiling faces (albeit 3 ADORABLE smiling faces), but I think I have to. I think this hope would be more accurately filed under "torture" rather than "reality."

What dreams may come

I had a dream last night, well, actually this morning. See, I haven't been sleeping well at all. I don't go to bed until late and then I wake up during the night and can't fall back to sleep.

This morning, I woke up at 6 am (in addition to waking several times during the night) and just couldn't fall back asleep. I finally did around 7:45 or so and that's when I had this dream. Please feel free to play armchair shrink. What do you think this dream means? I checked out the dream dictionary (see my link section), but their suggestions for stairs, window, and island don't really seem like they explain it all.

I'm living on a house on a tiny island. The island is just big enough for my house which is on stilts.

At one point, I realize I don't have a boat. I think, "I should call T. (a friend) and ask her to bring me a boat," but then I think, "She has enough to do." So I don't call her. Although, apparently I had crossed the water before without a boat, but in the dream, I can't figure out how I did it.

Then I see a rather large man (large as in muscular, not fat) walking through the water towards me. He's carrying a log which I somehow know I'm supposed to use as a boat. I feel threatened, but I don't know what to do. I have the thought, "I need to save the kids," but there's nowhere for the kids to go. I decide to try to stay out on the step and play the sly, I-don't-really-see-you card. You know what I mean. Like when you're out in public and don't want to acknowledge someone, so suddenly your child/your purse/that dead bug on the sidewalk is the most interesting thing in the world from which you cannot pull your attention. Then I realize that's stupid because he's obviously coming for me. I smile at him. He smiles back, but it creeps me out.

In another part, I run down the front steps. I don't know why, but I do quickly and with ease. Then I turned to walk back up the old rickety wooden steps and I realize there's a step missing. I know I just ran down without a problem, but now I can't get back up. The distance between the step I'm on and the next one seems to grow. I'm really uneasy and scared about it. I don't remember getting up the stairs. I just remember standing there feeling trapped.

Okay, here's the worst part of the dream; It's late and night and I'm awake in the house. I hear someone at the door. There's a high window on the door that's frosted in the center with a clear rim around the edge. I can see there's a man outside, but he's hunched over the door knob. I realize I'm alone with the kids. Do I grab a weapon? Nope. I stand there at the door and yell, "Go away." Then the man looks up and his eyes are level with the clear border of the window. It's dh. He somehow got home early and surprised me (although, in the dream, there was a part of me that knew it was him the whole time). I'm speechless for a while and then I ask, "Is this a dream?" He assures me it's not and I believe him (there have been occasions where I dreamed about being with him, but I knew it was a dream the whole time).

Moments later, The Boy starts fussing. Dh asks if he can go get him. I say, "Sure," but then I have a mild inner conflict with myself. I think, "I could just nurse the baby back to sleep. If dh picks him up, it'll be difficult to get the kid back to sleep." Although, then I remind myself he hasn't seen the baby in months and I can just deal. At this point, I seriously have the thought, "Well, if I'm having this kind of conversation with myself, it must be real."

I woke up shortly after that. It took me a while to realize it was a dream and dh wasn't home.

I. Hate. That.

"All alone! Whether you like it or not, alone is something you'll be quite a lot."

I'm lonely.

I know that doesn't make much sense given that I have twin tornados right next to me. I'm not alone. I'm never alone.

I know it doesn't make sense since my husband will be home in the not-too-distant future, but I am nonetheless.

Dh isn't here. So I'm alone inside my own head. At night, when I can't fall asleep, I'm alone there in the dark. When the kids are asleep and I use any excuse to avoid going to bed because I don't want to lay there in the empty silence, I'm alone.

I'm just lonely.

Let's rock the vote double X style.

I'm so glad I came across this blog entry: Lorelai Gilmore and Lynette Scavo Want You to Vote.

LOVE. LOVE. LOVE those PSAs. I'm trying to add one to my blog, but it's being a pest. So if it randomly shows up, you'll know why it's here. If it doesn't show up, make absolutely certain you follow the links at Parenting Pop Culture.

Crying, laughing, and more than a wee bit baffled.

What on earth is up with me lately? I randomly find myself either absolutely giddy over dh's impending return or devastated that he's not here.

Stomp through the wildnerness that is my mind with me while I analyze myself.

I think I must have shut down emotionally, just a wee bit, though. It wasn't intentional and it wasn't something I even noticed. This doesn't seem to have been a total shut down or anything like that. I think I just distanced myself a bit.

With dh's homecoming imminent, my subconscious seems to have torn down that wall. I didn't even notice there was a wall until I found myself staring at dh's picture a few nights ago in tears for the second time that week. Then I had to think to myself, "Wait. What on earth is going on?"

I think I was just spent emotionally after the hell that was August. Seems to me like I just needed a break from the constant flow of emotions. Kinda cliché metaphor, but from here, it seems like there was a river of fear that was just washing me away, so my subconscious put up a dam.

I didn't shut down completely. I just got a bit of a break.

Now the emotions are coming back. The slightest thing can make me cry. Memories of dh that were really just sort of blasé put a huge grin on my face. I feel like gathering all the people who have helped in any way shape or form and just hugging the stuffing out of them all.

I'm usually a very emotional person, but even I find myself thinking, "Woah, Dude, put the breaks on that already."

Sit right back and you'll hear a tale...

If you hang around here long enough, I swear I'm going to have this whole book typed out.

I'm very close to the end of Kristin Henderson's While They Are At War.

Yet again, today, while at the gym, I had to memorize page numbers so that I could share quotations with you.

"So a satellite television truck joined us in the hot, sunny parking lot where we families waited, beaming out to the rest of America close-ups of Marines hugging their girlfriends and wives and hoisting their toddlers. This is what people outside the military community see when the troops come home. Then the cameras switch off and to the outside world the homecoming appears to be over. In reality, the homecomings go on for months. In some ways, they go on for the rest of our lives." pg 225

That's something that always bothered me. There's so much focus on the going to and coming from "war," but there's rarely any coverage of the inbetween and after. I often hear, "I don't know how you do it." You know what? You really don't. If you're a civilian, you have no idea.

This isn't a game of one-up. I'm not saying military wives have it worse than anyone else. We do, however, have a very different experience than the vast majority of those around us.

One friend actually said to me, "My husband's a trucker. He's only home on the weekends. So I know exactly what you're going through. It's just like he's in the military--just like it. The only difference is he's not fighting."

Um...ah...what?

Please please please PLEASE know that I am NOT trying to take part in a pissing contest. It must be very difficult to live your life with a weekend husband. I am not trying to deny you the hardship with which you're dealing. Still, your life is not very similar to that of a military wife. Those weekends are a big difference. The fact that he's not now nor has he ever been in a combat zone is a HUGE, screaming, jumping, blinking difference.

If you think to yourself, "What is the likelihood my husband will be hit by an RPG while he's at work? While he's in bed? While he's trying to talk to me on the phone?" If the answer is, "Not gonna happen," or "What's an RPG," then, please never ever EVER tell a military wife you understand her plight. You can sympathize with it. You can feel for her. But you will never understand her ordeal and you most certainly do NOT know "exactly" what she's going through.

A large portion of the book deals with wives who have lost their husbands to various conflicts. One section even deals with anticipatory grief; the fear of losing one's spouse that leaves many spouses grieving as though they have already lost their partner even though he/she is still alive and fighting. I never realized it had a name. I never even realized other wives had those thoughts/fears.

Henderson writes,
"(Chaplain Watter) started calling around to other chaplains, who agreed they'd been seeing it, too, spouses exhibiting all the same symptoms, even the same physical symptoms, as those who were grieving an actual death...." p 82

Unless you have specifically looked out your front door in fear of men in dress uniforms bearing awful news, you do NOT know exactly what a military wife is going through. If your mind doesn't start racing to awful places when an unfamiliar car pulls in front of your house, you have no idea. If your husband doesn't call for a few days and you don't have to fight off the panic, then your life is nothing like mine.

I desperately want to get the point across that I'm not trying to compete. It's just been very obvious to me that civilians don't understand what wartime deployments are really like. Which is another major reason I want people to read this book. I'm not saying that civilians don't try. I have been blessed with so many wonderful people in my life who are not military members or military wives, but they have been very caring and understanding. It's just that no matter how sympathetic, civilians just can't grasp the full picture. Although, I will put in yet another plug for the book and say that I think reading Kristin Henderson's book is the best way for civilians to get a glimpse at that full picture.

I suppose now would be as good a time as ever to share what you should/shouldn't say to a military wife:

Never say:

• I'd kill to get rid of my husband for a few months.
• Will the military send my husband too?
• Oh, the time will be over before you know it.
• He'll be gone 4/6/8/12 months? That's not that bad at all.
• It must be nice to have all that time to yourself.
  
• He's not going to like that you've done that when he comes home.
• If my husband was gone that long, I would have lost all the baby weight/cleaned the house/painted the dining room/been shot out of a canon/saved the baby seals.
  
• Any sort of joking about him not coming home.

and of course

• My husband travels for business, so I know exactly how you feel.

Better suggestions:

• Oh, I'm so sorry.
• Let me bring you a meal on Monday if that's okay (Don't say, "Let me know what you need." Most military spouses will be too busy and/or feel too guilty to actually ask for help when they need it).
• So how often do you want me to mow your lawn while he's gone?
• What do you want me to grab for you at the store while I'm there.
• Let me come over and watch the kids for you so you can get a nap.
• Why don't we plan to meet for lunch?
• Come on over.
  
• Let me give you a hug.
• Here's a gift card to (favorite store/restaurant).
• Here's a drink.

or even better

• Here's a bottle of wine

better still

• Come share this box of wine with me. :-)

You'll be her best friend if you add

• and I'll make steak/your favorite vegetarian stirfry/your kids leave you the hell alone/cookies

My reality

I make no attempt to hide the fact that I'm a leftward-leaning Liberal. My military husband is actually more liberal than I am. That's a direct result of his time in the military.

We're both very politically minded. Previously, I have pointed out that for us, politics is not a series of ideals to debate. For us, this is our everyday lives. For us, politics and politicians are directly responsible for whether my children will be scooped up in their daddy's arms again or stand crying at his gravesite.

Here's a quotation on the topic from While They Are At War:

Kristin Henderson mentions an electrician who thought it was "Cool," that her husband was in Iraq.

"I think I was smiling. Behind my smile, I just wanted this nice man out of my house. To me, it was a matter of life and death. To him, it was a video game. We were living on different planets." pg 122

Reiza-Mara, this is your life.

Buy this book. Go right now and either buy it at your corner book store or order it from Amazon. If funds are tight, get it from the library (although, I'd really prefer you bought it so the author can make the money she deserves). Just make sure you read this book.

Kristin Henderson's While They Are At War is fabulous. She captured my life. I'm a little more than halfway through it and I'm in absolute awe. Someone I've never met managed to capture my life.

I actually wrote to her a bit before the book came out. She asked around for various military wives to interview. I answered some questions, but she wound up not going with my story. Fine with me, though, because I'm just about in love with the women she did choose to feature. Many of them are so very different from me, but I can see my story in theirs.

Whether you support this conflict or not, you need to read this book. Kristin Henderson features wives of all ages, races, and sides of the political debate.

Everything about this book if fantastic. Please please please get a copy and read it. I'm buying a copy for each of our mothers and my husband.

While I read through it, there were so many moments where I thought to myself, "YES. That's it exactly." She put into words so many things I haven't been able to explain. She put into words things I didn't know needed to be expressed until I read her book.

You will be hit over the head with lots of quotations from the book over the next few days. Let's start with this one:

A civilian reporter once asked me, "Does it ever bother your husband that you‘re..." He fumbled for the right words. "That you're writing about the wives instead of the real story?" The question itself speaks volumes.
pg 4

And I ADORE this quotation. I sent it to dh today:

…I asked myself more honestly than I ever had before, the same question many soldiers are asked when they apply for conscientious objector status: What would I do if someone broke into my house and threatened my nieces and nephews, the children I love? Could I kill that person? Others have told me they’re not sure they could, even if their children were in danger.

I knew, without a doubt, that I could and would.

Then I asked myself: even if my leaders have made mistakes that led others to attack us, am I willing to stand by and watch my little nieces and nephews die for those mistakes? In all honesty, no. War is always a calamity, yet sometimes when all you have are bad options, war may be the best one of the bunch. I’m glad there are Marines, and soldiers, and sailors and airmen who are willing to save us. But at the same time, I’m also glad there are people like the Quakers, who are willing to save us from our own worst selves.

pg 134

Now go forth and BUY THAT BOOK!

Sometimes they surprise you.

A friend invited us to homeschool show and tell last week. It's pretty much your standard show and tell. It's designed to help teach the kids public speaking as well as give them a chance to (oh no, I'm gonna use that awful word) socialize. Plus the parents get to chat.

As a Jewish-evolution-believing military wife, I was the odd mom out (although, the friend who invited me does believe in Evolution, but we may have been the only two). Some of the things that were said made me gasp quietly to myself, but everyone was very nice and the kids had fun.

When I agreed to do this, I figured my kids wouldn't really do anything. If Girl1 was having a good day, she might be willing to get up and talk, but definitely not Girl2. Mind you, both of my girls are extremely talkative and outgoing--until they find themselves in the presence of new folks. Then they clam up. After frequenting story time at the library for a few months, I had one librarian ask me, "Are they always this quiet?" I laughed loudly. A few weeks later, they started chatting with the librarians and and the girls haven't stopped since.

Girl1 decided to bring her costume from her first dance recital. Girl2 went with the first thing she saw. I have a dress hanging on their closet doorknob. She wanted that dress. It was mine when I was smaller and my girls wore it when they were babies.

We got there and my kids went last. Girl1 volunteered to go, but Girl2 wanted to go up too. So we all went up (they wanted me up there too). Girl1 then fell on the floor and absolutely refused to speak. So I gave Girl2 a chance. She needed some coaxing, but SHE DID IT and she handled herself quite well. When Girl1 still refused to go even after her sister, Girl2 then displayed the dance costume as well. She discussed it and answered questions.

I was so impressed. I LOVE when my kids surprise me (well, the good kind of surprise, not the "I can fit every single piece of Polly Pocket's clothing in my mouth at once," kind of surprise).

The Jewish dictionary

Jewfro: Jewish man's afro

See a sample here: The Rabbi Report: If I had a jewfro

Break my heart, why don't ya?

First and foremost, Tiffany didn't win. Boo. Hiss. Yeah yeah, it's PC to say everyone was talented (in all honesty, I don't think they were. Some of the work I saw from the top 10 was pretty plain. I've seen much better than those layouts in the galleries. I just wasn't impressed with some folks who were up for SOY) and that I'm glad CK honored Tiffany by nominating her (which is true). In all honesty, though, I think Tiffany was far and away the best in the running. I think she should have won hands down and I'm disappointed that she didn't.

In other disappointing news, no more ellptical for me. I do an hour on the elliptical every day at the gym and then do my weights and resistance for another hour. I was weighed and measured today. I mostly got great news. My weight is down lower than I expected. The woman at the desk who measured me said she'd kill to have my measurements. I'm back down to a 27 inch waist. The bad news, though, is that I GAINED 3 inches in my legs. I'm putting on too much muscle in my thighs as a result of my dearly beloved machine.

Here's my issue: I love that machine. It burns more calories than anything else in that gym. I can burn 700 calories in an hour. THAT ROCKS! The same time on the bike only burns about 250 calories. My friends use the same machine, so we can chat while we work out. It helps the time go by much faster. Plus on the elliptical, I can read magazines. The rule on the treadmill is no cell phones, no water bottles, no magazines (risk of injury if you're not paying attention).

Now I'm gonna have to either do the treadmill or the bike and I'm so not happy about that. I think I'll do the elliptical twice a week and split up the treadmill and bike for 1/2 an hour each for the other 4 days.

In other news, we're headed to the sukkah at shul tonight. This is the first time I'm going without dh. We go every year. Last year, I was hugely pregnant and it was very cold. This year, I'm skinnier and it's still pretty warm. Last year, it was a huge event whereas in years past, it was a pretty small gathering. I'm not sure what to expect this year, but I'm sure we'll have fun either way. The Boy will be sporting his brand new, "Rocking the Jew-fro" t-shirt. I suspect it will be a big hit.

Go, Tiffany!

No, not THAT Tiffany; Tiffany Tillman (check my links. The Sharper Edge blog is hers).

She and I once worked together on a creative team and she’s up for Scrapbooker of the Year over at Creating Keepsakes.

The winner was announced in Vegas over half an hour ago, but I can't find any reports either through CK directly or through any of the message boards.

Tiffany's work is absolutely fantastic. She very much deserves to win this and I'm biting my nails here in hopes that she does.

Sexually deprived for your freedomand vulgar for your entertainment

When dh is away, I tend to get very raunchy. I guess it’s my way of dealing with having to go without.

We have further proof that I've been deprived for way too long.

When a friend wrote and mentioned an acquaintance who couldn't swallow pills, I had this to say:

“If she can’t even get pills down her throat, how’d she ever get a guy to marry her?”

I'm glad my religion doesn't believe in a Hell because if it did, I would SO be going there.

Radio, radio romance

Title is from a Tiffany song. Yeah, I'm a dork. Please forgive me.

Back to the purpose of this post:

I was on the radio. My favorite local drive-time show was discussing vow renewals. One of the DJ's is having one, but he didn't understand the purpose of it. They asked for calls from people who have done it. I called explaining that dh and I are planning on having one when he comes home.

They put me on the air and were super sweet.

I shouldn't be star-struck. I'm used to the media. It's the field I worked in before I decided to stay home. I've been on t.v. I've been in the paper. I've been in magazines (and I don't mean that to sound as stuck up as I'm afraid it does). Still, I'm jazzed about the whole thing.

This guy's cool as hell.

Please pardon the bad pun in the title. It's not intentional.

The Geek Guide to Kosher Machines

Meet the hacker who makes your home appliances right with G-d.

And that concludes the high holidays' tour 5767.

Yom Kippur is over. It's the holiest of Jewish holidays and it marks the end of the high holidays. Sukkot is coming, but that's nothing. We eat in a box, basically, LOL. Well, we don't because I've never been able to build a freaking sukkah (not for lack of trying. About 6 years ago, I was in tears in the aisles of Lowe's because we couldn't figure what we'd need to build one or how we would manage to get the materials home in the little sports car). We will, however, eat at the one at shul on one evening.

Today was a fast day. I didn't make it. I ate two slices of bread and had some water. As a nursing mom, I get a "Get out of jail free" card when it comes to these things, though. Shove a boob in the baby's mouth and you get to shove some food in yours when everyone around you is salivating at the thought of food. Gotta love it.

Left the kids with my sister (long story there that I can't share right now, but I swear I will soon) and went to services last night (and again today, but they came with me today). What I want to discuss, though, isn't that I spent all day in the sanctuary or even that I came home yesterday to find my sister topless (that relates to the long story I'm not at liberty to fully discuss just yet).

What I want to discuss is the dress I wore last night. I bought it for dh's promotion ceremony 2 years ago--before my last pregnancy. I never wore it, though. It was a $60 dress (still had the tags on last night when I put it on), but I got it for $5 on clearance. Most importantly, though, it's a size 3/4. And it fit! Shock of all shock, I even had a pair of shoes that matched and aren't leather (I don't wear leather on Yom Kippur or jewlery for that matter).

Oh, oh, oh, and since I brought up jewlery, I wear two rings regularly--a wedding band and a 3-stone ring (which I got from dh for Chanukah 2 years ago. One of my top 3 favorite gifts EVER). I had them both sized when I was at my thinnest. They are both a size 4. Yes, you can get a ring sized that small. Well, get this, they're too big. WTF? I'm still about 15 lbs heavier than I was at my lowest. So how on earth are they big? Do they size rings any smaller than 4? Am I gonna have to start buying kids' jewlery to go with my kids' shoes?

Not that I'm complaining. I super cute pair of sneakers the other day for 13 bucks 'cause they were on sale and they're kids'.