Houston, We (Had) A Problem

I should start by saying a big 'sorry' to anyone who actually reads this blog. A friend kindly pointed out to me  that it looks like I haven't blogged in a month, apparently I've been posting under a private setting, so I'm trying to figure out how to change old posts to public. Anyways, I'm sorry!! And thanks T for your help :)

I won't rehash the last month, since I'll be changing those posts soon, so I will give some random musings for your entertainment. 

Yesterday was Veteran's Day, and it felt so surreal to have to wish my husband a happy day. M was feeling a bit out of sorts about being considered a vet, so we spent the day "ignoring" it. I used to think a veteran was someone who served during wartime, and anyone who served when there was no war was just retired military.I apologize to everyone for my ignorance! According to the federal government, a veteran is someone who has served "any time, in any branch, for any period of time". And having been a wife to a husband who served in the forgotten branch, I can truly appreciate the definition this year. It's not an easy job, but military service is definitely appreciated by me!

I should also tell you something that shames me lately. Baby E is only 24 weeks old, still snug in my belly, and she is wreaking havoc on the world!! Okay, maybe not on the world as a whole. But she is turning me into a bipolar person, and poor M is the only one who gets the wrath of the "lows". Take Saturday for instance. B and I were eating pancakes and bacon and watching Monsters, Inc in his room. M was doing what he does best-playing on the XBox in our bedroom. M and B were supposed to drive out to see Grampa M, so after the movie was over I tried gently nudging M in the direction of the door, but he wanted to wait until noon (it was 10:45). So B and I played Jenga and Hot Wheels while we were waiting, but I got so irritated! I gave M a hard time about how he hardly plays with B lately because he works crazy hours, which is fine, but when he's home on the weekend he should play with his kid! M told B to get ready, they were going, which was also fine by me. But then M took an HOUR to get dressed, talk to his brother, and dilly-dally despite my reminders that B was waiting. Well they finally leave and I'm in a great mood again. They come back 9 hours later, and after being home for less than 5 minutes M accidentally burned B's fingers with hot water which has me FUMING mad and crying for B at the same time! It took me a good ten minutes to calm down too. 

Poor M. But I can say that because he's not home right now, I'm sure when he comes home from work I will forget that I felt bad and my blood will boil for no good reason. Oh pregnancy, you are fun!

Talk to you later,

-S

Internet At Last!!

I'm sure anyone who has moved before (especially a military move) knows how much you miss technology when you don't have it. We left Oregon on a Friday evening and got to MA at 4 a.m. the following Monday. Somehow, we made the trip in 2 and a half days. (Yes, we were exhausted!) It took the driver of the truck holding most of our worldly possessions 18 days to get here, and M and I quickly assembled our house because we all were in need of cable and internet!

Everything has been a whirlwind since arriving-B is in kindergarten!! M was supposed to start work this week, but now it's being pushed back another week. I have a job interview in 2 days! It's just at a chain coffee shop, but any job is more than appreciated and needed right now. Let's hope I can hide the fact that I'm 5 months pregnant until they hire me now!

I am leaving this as a short entry for now, I'll catch up in the morning.

Yours,
-S

Moving Day

For those of you who haven't done a government move before, I should explain how awesome it is: You get to sit back and do nothing while about 5 men pack up everything in sight.

Sounds great in theory, but I have a hard time not complicating things. This is our 3rd (and last) military move, so by now I've learned a few things-don't leave trash in your bin or it's coming with you, put silverware in ziploc baggies so you don't have to wash them on the other end of the move, tape up kids' puzzle boxes, etc. When we arrived in NC and then again in OR, I opened all of the boxes and thought "man we have a bunch of junk!" And I can honestly say most of it is M's. He has more clothes than I do. The man had a DRAWER and a HALF devoted to socks. Socks! He is more sentimental than I am, so he hangs on to more...junk.

When I ask M to go through some of the things, he gets rid of a handful of things. So I got smart in Oregon-every few months I would announce that it was time to get rid of more stuff. We are at a much more manageable level of junk now, I can proudly say.

But all that doesn't come without complications. We have spent about 5 solid days prepping for the move-I wanted two bedrooms to be basically empty so we could clean behind the movers. I wanted to clean before the movers got here. I wanted to organize things better than I really ever have. So M and I busted our butts (while B took advantage of having unregulated control over the Wii of course!)

I am SO ready for the move to be over. Then we get to spend 3 and a half days trying to drive across the entire country while the puppy and I alternate between potty breaks, since baby seems to have a love of my bladder lately.

I know we're still getting to know each other, but I must take a break and talk to y'all next week. Wish me luck!

-S

Pictures Are Not Fun

Okay, I admit it. I am 100% female in the fact that I hate getting my picture taken. I don't want to be immortalized at anything other than my "ideal weight", but while I was getting ready for the big move today (more on that soon!) I stopped to look through our Oregon photo album. We have some excellent shots of M and B together, plenty of Shotgun, and a couple of the kitties. There are only 3 pictures of me in Oregon, and so I resolve to suck up my pride and smile when someone wants to take my photo. After all, we will be with all of our family in only 5 short days, and I'm pregnant, so it's bound to happen, right?

Also, I want to go back in time and slap my skinny 18 year old self who was self conscious even back then!

So in honor of my photo realization, today I will show you my family :)

This was on B's birthday (Chuck E Cheese's)

B "driving" a Coast Guard boat

M's salmon

B and Shotgun on the day we brought him home

Shotgun at only 4 months old!

Ellie (tabby) and Joey (white and gray) then and now

I'm glad I got to memorialize some great moments, and I'm really going to try to be in the pictures too from now on!

Yours,

-S

When I Grow Up

I suppose I should discuss me, since you are reading my blog. As I've said, I'm 26. In a lot of ways, I'm a quintessential Sagittarius-honest, optimistic, lively, etc. There's a site called saggitariustraits.com, and this is what most suits me, and what I've been thinking about lately: "Their energy always saves them from misery because by the time they realize they failed, there is already a new adventure planned."

I think most people can look back on their childhood and remember wanting to be a dozen different things-a doctor, musician, actor, veterinarian, and the list goes on. I can't decide if I'm like many people in my generation or unique in the fact that I've cycled through the list of "what I want to be when I grow up" about a dozen more times in my twenties. I'm not sure if it's because I'm sort of flighty by nature or just the realization that making a living, even with a college degree, is almost an unattainable dream in this economy.

When I was a freshman in high school, I took a career aptitude test and when the computer generated "People Helper-Psychologist" as my top match, I thought that was a perfect fit. Almost everyone I know has always done more than confide in me; they usually expect me to hold a magical statement or solution for whatever ails them, and more often than not I have one of those at the ready. I spent the rest of my high school career searching for schools with good psych programs. When I received my acceptance letter from a great all-girl private school, things started to spiral downward. My life was full of turmoil and I slipped into depression after someone I thought was a close friend sexually assaulted me, and I only made it through a week and a half of college before I dropped out. I went to therapy and tried to go to school the next semester, but by then everyone at this small school had forged bonds and I was an outsider. I dropped out after 2 weeks into that semester, and took a break while I tried to get my life back on track. 

Fast forward two years later, B was born. His father was not in the picture (that's a fun story for another time ladies and gents!) and I didn't want to leave my son in daycare with strangers, so I tried a transcription class. I thought being able to do school from home, and then work from home, was a fabulous idea, but I ended up hating the thought of doing nothing but listening to doctors with different accents all day and trying to understand their writing (why is it that doctors have the worst handwriting? Is it a prerequisite on the grad school application?).

Psychology major? Nope.

Transcription? Yeah right.

So then yours truly gets her heart set on social work. I had my life changed by a social worker during my lowest point, so I wanted to be like her. Plus the community college offered most of the pre-reqs as online courses-bonus! I did 2 semesters and aced all my classes. I finally felt like I found my niche, but if you haven't noticed by now things in my life don't exactly take a normal path! M enlisted in the Coast Guard and we were relocated to a beautiful coastal town in North Carolina. It was like living in our own little piece of heaven! I began the process of transferring my credits and enrolling in classes at the community college, but lo and behold, the Coast Guard had other plans! M was sent to "A school" where he learned his trade and we were sent to Oregon before the semester began.

I had two more great semesters in Oregon but M didn't have such an easy time at the station here. He had to recover 3 bodies in a 2 month span, one of them being an 8 year old girl. That coupled with the stress of becoming qualified on 3 boats, boarding officer, and engineer petty officer sort of broke M. He ended up being prescribed anti-depressants, anti-anxiety meds, and getting discharged for "failure to adjust". All this means we're moving back to Massachusetts in 2 days and I get to start over (oh, and I'm 4 months pregnant)!

SO, I've once again changed my mind but I think I've got it right this time. I've decided when I grow up I want to be a nurse! The community college in MA has a 9 month LPN program and my sister C wants to enroll in the program with me. Hopefully getting an LPN license will be enough to get a job in this economy, I'll be able to help people (bringing me full circle back to my career aptitude results), and I can take another 9 month program that bridges the gap from LPN->RN soon after.

I think I should start taking bets as to when my career goal will change again.

Yours,
-S

Here I Am

I suppose the inaugural post on any blog should be an introduction, so where should I begin? I am 26 years old. I'm a mother to B, who is this incredible 5 year old (although if he knew I was writing this he would clarify that he is 5 and a half thankyouverymuch!). I'm also married to M, who I've known since I was 10. Since I'm like most moms and my kid is my world, I'll start by telling you about him.

B constantly surprises me with his heart and wit and smarts and view on the world (and a whole bunch of other things, because what mama doesn't think her kid is just the greatest and most unique?). We live in a run down fishing town in Oregon that is riddled with meth users and hippies, or at least those are the visible portions of the population. Outside of our Walmart SuperCenter on any given day stands someone who is presumably homeless with a cardboard sign (only a handful seem to be honest with their declarations of "Why lie I want a beer"). One day after shopping, we were sitting at the traffic light next to a 30-something year old guy with a sign. I turned up the radio a bit and looked the other way, not because I'm heartless but these people just make me uncomfortable-we don't struggle, but we certainly don't have anything extra to give at the end of the month either and I commonly experience a guilt surge. Anyways, B asks me what the man's sign says, so I read it for him. "It says 'Hungry. Need Work.'" B then asks me if anyone will give him a job and if we can give him money, so I launch into an explanation of how to get a job, the resources available  for homeless people, and the fact that some of these people might use any money we give them for bad things like drugs or alcohol.

At this point, I'm mentally high-fiving myself for a good talk, like most parents should do every now and then. B took a few moments to mull everything over, gave me a reply of "I wish we could help. No one should be hungry", then picked up his Nintendo DS.

Well, shoot. I just received the lesson. So after we put the groceries away at home, I got him back in the car, went back to Walmart, had him choose some non-perishables, and we dropped them off at the soup kitchen. It took a 5(and a half) year old to remind me of the little things we can do every now and then to help one another.

Until next time,
-S