DH. He loves me more than anything and treats me amazingly well. I bitch about him from time to time, but I couldn't have chosen a better partner to spend my life with.
Tater, Satan and Fang. They are a handful and a half, but I wouldn't trade them for anything. When I'm not pulling my hair out, I'm basking in the love and joy that they bring to my life. Plus, they give me lots of good blog material.
My family. Even though their only goal in life is to make me say bad words. On the rare occasion, when the planets are properly aligned, I do enjoy their company.
Stealing this from Shelly, I'm thankful that GWB won't be able to run for president again.
Last but not least, I'm thankful for my friends. Both online and in real life. This deployment has been a bitch. If it wasn't for their kindness and support, I would not be the mostly sane, sometimes rational person that you see.
Friday, November 26, 2004
The holiday and family
I was sort of, kind of sad. I was not in a festive, celebrating mood. I really miss DH. He is very into Thanksgiving and Christmas. He really chips in and takes an active role in the holiday celebrations. So him not being here is rough. Luckily things went better today than expected.
Barbie and Ken invited us over for diner. Which was great. I tried to make a contribution. I took rolls, cranberry salad and white chocolate raspberry swirl cheesecake. But Barbie did the hard work. She made all sorts of delicious food, and cleaned up the mess. I left their house feeling stuffed carrying a bag full of leftovers. Yummy!
After we came home, I called my grandma's house. They ate late this year since a few family members had to work earlier in the day. I was able to talk to a dozen or so relatives. People that I see at most once a year. I sort of missed them. I'm sure I only feel that way because I'm not there. If I were there I would be hating it. Some one would have pissed me off, then I would have bitched about it until Christmas. Just in time for the wonderful Christmas family get to gather at grandmas house. Where some one else would piss me off. Then it would start all over.
After I got off the phone with my family, I let Tater and Satan call the in-laws. Well, they argued over who was going to be the one that called. I had to act quick and make a decision, who is going to talk first. Eenie meenie miney mo is how I chose the lucky heathen. Will they still respect me as an adult now? heh
DH's sister answered and Satan hung up on her because she didn't want to talk to a stranger she wanted to talk to Nana or Gramps. After explaining about forty times that it was Aunt S and not a stranger, we called back. Satan then talked for about 30 minutes. Refusing to give the phone to Tater. Her reason. Tater was sick and couldn't talk. He does have a bit of a cold or allergies going on, but he is able to speak. He did finally get a turn to talk, but he isn't the talker that Satan is. His conversation lasted maybe 10 minutes.
Then it was my turn to talk. Marie was very cordial. She must be taking her meds again. I just wish she could be like this all the time. For the sake of all of us.
Barbie and Ken invited us over for diner. Which was great. I tried to make a contribution. I took rolls, cranberry salad and white chocolate raspberry swirl cheesecake. But Barbie did the hard work. She made all sorts of delicious food, and cleaned up the mess. I left their house feeling stuffed carrying a bag full of leftovers. Yummy!
After we came home, I called my grandma's house. They ate late this year since a few family members had to work earlier in the day. I was able to talk to a dozen or so relatives. People that I see at most once a year. I sort of missed them. I'm sure I only feel that way because I'm not there. If I were there I would be hating it. Some one would have pissed me off, then I would have bitched about it until Christmas. Just in time for the wonderful Christmas family get to gather at grandmas house. Where some one else would piss me off. Then it would start all over.
After I got off the phone with my family, I let Tater and Satan call the in-laws. Well, they argued over who was going to be the one that called. I had to act quick and make a decision, who is going to talk first. Eenie meenie miney mo is how I chose the lucky heathen. Will they still respect me as an adult now? heh
DH's sister answered and Satan hung up on her because she didn't want to talk to a stranger she wanted to talk to Nana or Gramps. After explaining about forty times that it was Aunt S and not a stranger, we called back. Satan then talked for about 30 minutes. Refusing to give the phone to Tater. Her reason. Tater was sick and couldn't talk. He does have a bit of a cold or allergies going on, but he is able to speak. He did finally get a turn to talk, but he isn't the talker that Satan is. His conversation lasted maybe 10 minutes.
Then it was my turn to talk. Marie was very cordial. She must be taking her meds again. I just wish she could be like this all the time. For the sake of all of us.
boobies
I am still nursing Fang, but I'm doing it begrudgingly. I am so done. I no longer want to nurse him. However, he is still very much attached, and has no desire to quit. Weaning is not going quite as easy as I had hoped it would.
In my effort to wean him, he has became obsessed with 'boobies'. He now points out 'boobies' anywhere and every where. When we go out in public, he will point to women with larger breast. With a large grin on his face he will say, "Boobie. See it. Boobie."
I try to pretend that I don't know what he has said. While secretly wishing that strangers can't make out his words. But Satan being the ever helpful big sister, wants to make sure that I don't ignore Fang. She will generally say, "Mommy, Bubba is talking to you. He saw a boobie."
But it gets better. Satan has a collection of Disney Princess books. Fang has claimed The Little Mermaid book as his because Ariel has 'boobies'.
Today, I was mean and ignored his request to nurse. I would hand him a sippy cup and pretend to not hear the whining. But this evening he became restless and whiney, so I gave in and let him nurse. When I lifted up my shirt he said, "Ahhhhhhh, tank ou!"
I think I made his day. heh
In my effort to wean him, he has became obsessed with 'boobies'. He now points out 'boobies' anywhere and every where. When we go out in public, he will point to women with larger breast. With a large grin on his face he will say, "Boobie. See it. Boobie."
I try to pretend that I don't know what he has said. While secretly wishing that strangers can't make out his words. But Satan being the ever helpful big sister, wants to make sure that I don't ignore Fang. She will generally say, "Mommy, Bubba is talking to you. He saw a boobie."
But it gets better. Satan has a collection of Disney Princess books. Fang has claimed The Little Mermaid book as his because Ariel has 'boobies'.
Today, I was mean and ignored his request to nurse. I would hand him a sippy cup and pretend to not hear the whining. But this evening he became restless and whiney, so I gave in and let him nurse. When I lifted up my shirt he said, "Ahhhhhhh, tank ou!"
I think I made his day. heh
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
Chritsmas is coming
Sunday, November 21, 2004
Frosty the little heathen
I shall soon be bald from pulling out my hair. We have had rain, rain and more rain for the past week. Yesterday we not only had rain, we had hail and power outages. This is not good, take the kids outside to play, weather. My three heathens are getting cabin fever, and in the process they are driving me insane.
Tonight I put them to bed at 8:30. Tater was quietly reading in his bed. This is not a problem. Satan and Fang on the other hand decided to throw match box cars at each other, instead of going to sleep. This is a big problem. I confiscated the match box cars. Then I tucked the littlest heathens in. Again.
Shortly after that, I hear knocking. Tater hears it to, so he runs out of his room very panicked because he think that he hears something outside. Satan and Fang were not panicked. Because they were kicking the wall and giggling. I separate them, Putting them each into their own bed, and once again I tuck them in.
At this point I'm feeling optimistic, and think that I am finally going to get to relax. So I sit down. I have my glass of icy cold Coke and the remote. I am going to sit in the Lazy Boy, and watch Desperate Housewives. With no distractions. That was my plan. In case I haven't told you yet. I am in love with the person that invited DVR!
Anyway, I watched up to the part that shows the young gardener shirtless. Then I was rudely interrupted by Satan and Fang running through the living room. Giggling. I snatch them up, one under each arm. I carried them to their room, and once again I tucked them in. At this point I'm becoming quite angry. The can sense that my patience has ran out. So they stay in bed. But they cry.
I am mean, angry and frustrated so I ignore them. Well, for a few minutes. Until I hear really loud, exaggerated whining and crying. At this point I am very frustrated, so I scream, "Why are you still awake? What could possibly be wrong with you now?"
I hear a little voice whine, "I'm melting."
Melting? WTH is she talking about? I am confused. So I stomp down the hallway to see whats wrong. Satan is sobbing. I comfort her until she is able to talk in he big girl voice. Then I ask again. "what is wrong with you? Why are you crying?" Only this time I was calm.
She wipes her cheek, and says, "I'm melting." sob sob sob, "just like Frosty did."
I couldn't stay mad after that.
Tonight I put them to bed at 8:30. Tater was quietly reading in his bed. This is not a problem. Satan and Fang on the other hand decided to throw match box cars at each other, instead of going to sleep. This is a big problem. I confiscated the match box cars. Then I tucked the littlest heathens in. Again.
Shortly after that, I hear knocking. Tater hears it to, so he runs out of his room very panicked because he think that he hears something outside. Satan and Fang were not panicked. Because they were kicking the wall and giggling. I separate them, Putting them each into their own bed, and once again I tuck them in.
At this point I'm feeling optimistic, and think that I am finally going to get to relax. So I sit down. I have my glass of icy cold Coke and the remote. I am going to sit in the Lazy Boy, and watch Desperate Housewives. With no distractions. That was my plan. In case I haven't told you yet. I am in love with the person that invited DVR!
Anyway, I watched up to the part that shows the young gardener shirtless. Then I was rudely interrupted by Satan and Fang running through the living room. Giggling. I snatch them up, one under each arm. I carried them to their room, and once again I tucked them in. At this point I'm becoming quite angry. The can sense that my patience has ran out. So they stay in bed. But they cry.
I am mean, angry and frustrated so I ignore them. Well, for a few minutes. Until I hear really loud, exaggerated whining and crying. At this point I am very frustrated, so I scream, "Why are you still awake? What could possibly be wrong with you now?"
I hear a little voice whine, "I'm melting."
Melting? WTH is she talking about? I am confused. So I stomp down the hallway to see whats wrong. Satan is sobbing. I comfort her until she is able to talk in he big girl voice. Then I ask again. "what is wrong with you? Why are you crying?" Only this time I was calm.
She wipes her cheek, and says, "I'm melting." sob sob sob, "just like Frosty did."
I couldn't stay mad after that.
Sunday, November 14, 2004
Karma jumped up and bit me in that ass.
This is just one of the many exciting things that happened while DH was here. Since I was playing the role of attentive wife and mother, I wasn't able to blog it sooner. heh
It was a normal morning shower. I washed my face, and washed my hair. I stepped out of the shower onto a towel to begin my morning primping in front of the mirror. AKA slathering on the Frizz Ease. When I felt an all too familiar bite, but this time it was on my ass. I yelled out a few profanities, as I squished the ant. Then I felt several bites on my feet. The goddamn ants had mounted an attack in my bathroom. I believe that this is a result of me invading their little part of my yard with fire ant granules and evil voodoo chants. These evil creatures are out for revenge, and I am their target.
I could feel them crawling all over me. I was smacking myself all over. Then I ran through the house naked. Yelling at DH, "get these fucking ants off of me!" Being his ever helpful self, he was more than happy to squish the ants dead. Meaning he was laughing his ass off while smacking me. I can laugh about it now, but at the time I was not pleased. I now have roughly 20 ant bites on various body parts. I am crabby from the uncontrollable itching, and I've already used up half a tube of cortisone.
Later that day, DH sprayed bug spray around the perimeter of the bathroom. Then I had the fun job of cleaning up the ant carcass. As sick as that was, I was over joyed that the bathroom was once again ant free. The ant battle was won. I was triumphant. A celebration was needed. A cake was baked. A cake that was put into a cake saver with a lid, to keep out pesky things like ants.
On Friday morning DH decided to have a farewell piece of celebration cake. In our haste to get to the airport on time, he made the unfortunate mistake of not putting the lid on tightly. Apparently the ants are still plotting my demise. While we were away from the house they mounted another attack.
When we returned home, I was a bit depressed. Saying goodbye is rough. I was in need of a caffeine/sugar high. I though an icy cold coke and a piece of cake would fix me right up. I poured myself a glass of coke. I was all set to cut a big slice of cake, when I felt that all too familiar pain. The little buggers were all over my hand. That's right, my the ants are dead celebration cake was covered with ants. They bit my arm and my hand.
I have purchased more ant poison. If this does not work. I will be forced to call in the big guns.
It was a normal morning shower. I washed my face, and washed my hair. I stepped out of the shower onto a towel to begin my morning primping in front of the mirror. AKA slathering on the Frizz Ease. When I felt an all too familiar bite, but this time it was on my ass. I yelled out a few profanities, as I squished the ant. Then I felt several bites on my feet. The goddamn ants had mounted an attack in my bathroom. I believe that this is a result of me invading their little part of my yard with fire ant granules and evil voodoo chants. These evil creatures are out for revenge, and I am their target.
I could feel them crawling all over me. I was smacking myself all over. Then I ran through the house naked. Yelling at DH, "get these fucking ants off of me!" Being his ever helpful self, he was more than happy to squish the ants dead. Meaning he was laughing his ass off while smacking me. I can laugh about it now, but at the time I was not pleased. I now have roughly 20 ant bites on various body parts. I am crabby from the uncontrollable itching, and I've already used up half a tube of cortisone.
Later that day, DH sprayed bug spray around the perimeter of the bathroom. Then I had the fun job of cleaning up the ant carcass. As sick as that was, I was over joyed that the bathroom was once again ant free. The ant battle was won. I was triumphant. A celebration was needed. A cake was baked. A cake that was put into a cake saver with a lid, to keep out pesky things like ants.
On Friday morning DH decided to have a farewell piece of celebration cake. In our haste to get to the airport on time, he made the unfortunate mistake of not putting the lid on tightly. Apparently the ants are still plotting my demise. While we were away from the house they mounted another attack.
When we returned home, I was a bit depressed. Saying goodbye is rough. I was in need of a caffeine/sugar high. I though an icy cold coke and a piece of cake would fix me right up. I poured myself a glass of coke. I was all set to cut a big slice of cake, when I felt that all too familiar pain. The little buggers were all over my hand. That's right, my the ants are dead celebration cake was covered with ants. They bit my arm and my hand.
I have purchased more ant poison. If this does not work. I will be forced to call in the big guns.
Saturday, November 13, 2004
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
sigh
Found out that DH would be in Fallujah right now if he wasn't on R&R. I should feel relieved, but I don't. He only has a few days left. This saddens me because I'm afraid for him. He is going back to a worse place than he left.
That, and I'm not ready for him to leave. It's been so nice just to have him here. I'm not looking forward to the next few months. I already miss him. :(
That, and I'm not ready for him to leave. It's been so nice just to have him here. I'm not looking forward to the next few months. I already miss him. :(
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