Adventures at Gordon

We live in Georgia now. Against our will, but it could definitely be worse. We stayed in a hotel for the first week we were here. We now have a great new apartment that's close to everything we'd want to go to; shopping, restaurants, post, the hospital. In Clarksville everything is so spread out. It takes 20 minutes to get to anywhere you might want to go except what's on post. Here, in 20 minutes we can be ordering appetizers! That's a really nice change. Our apartment is taking some getting used to. We haven't paid electricity in 3 years and I kept my old place frigid, let me tell you. Ask anyone. My good friend Anna called my house The Refrigerator. Here, we keep it on about 70, maybe a few degrees below, and the sun in the afternoon heats it up to 80. I think we need blackout curtains. Maybe our air doesn't work as well as it should, either. We're doing a wait and see thing to see if we need to report it to management. Also, we're upstairs. We have to constantly remind Libby to use her "quiet feet." My apartment actually reminds me a lot of my sister's. The layout is very similar. We have a little deck and a sliding glass door which is pretty but it lets in too much heat and it takes away a wall of the living room. We're going to have to put at least one chair in storage. The girls' rooms are nice and big, though. We haven't gotten delivery of our household goods yet. They wanted to deliver them the 8th, the first Monday we were here, but we hadn't even signed the lease yet, and I hadn't switched the gas and electricity over to my name (which is required for release of keys) and so I said no, figuring that if I relied on it happening then the apartment would fall through, and that I didn't want to go around expecting special treatment just because we're military. Soooo the 22nd it is. We rented a sleeper sofa, a queen-size bed, and a TV from Rent-A-Center to tide us over. It was ridiculously expensive but not nearly as bad as staying in a hotel for two more weeks would have been. Plus this way we can cook. We borrowed some kitchen stuff from ACS.
The other day we went and joined the YMCA and got the girls into swimming lessons and soccer. They're super duper excited. We're going to go this weekend to buy them cleats. Emily kept saying how she didn't want to take swimming lessons (yet she believes she will "float" in deep water!) but once we toured the facility and signed her up she got really excited. She packed her little duffel bag a week early, even. Their lessons start Monday. I'm eager for soccer to start, even though I know it'll be hot as balls. Aaron's wanted them in soccer for almost two years now but the program I would have gone through on Campbell, on post, had terrible communication that pissed me off and required them to be fully vaccinated, no exemptions accepted. I'm really excited that the Y doesn't even mention vaccines. Plus, they have a huge pool, workout room, aerobics classes, and no extra charge childcare for 2-hour blocks at a time, no appointment necessary, for while you work out. The childcare rooms are AWESOME too, dude. The 5-12 age group room has a full-on, Burger King style playcenter. Also, the gymnastics room has open play times so you can come in and let the kids jump on the mats, the pummel horse, the rings, all that stuff. We went to the pool yesterday and they have this big splash park, two kiddie pools with fountains and one big water slide. Emily went 8 times. We went to the mall today and picked up the girls' soccer gear. I don't think there's anything cuter than miniature sports gear, especially when it comes in pink! Tomorrow we're going to go and play all afternoon.
The kids are doing so well. They've adjusted wonderfully to all the changes, they adapted well to being in the hotel room. They are handling their first PCS move with incredible grace. (Well, first that they were really aware what was going on and could voice their feelings on the matter.) I really think they were just cut out to be military brats. I love my brats.

May Her Grace Be With Us Always

Today I attended the memorial service for Ronii Evilla-Grace. I keep trying to write something about her to describe to you how wonderful she was and what a waste this situation is, how unfair it is for everyone involved and I keep hitting backspace. Maybe it's because I didn't really know her all that well. I knew how she made me feel. I trusted her with my life, and with the life of my unborn baby. I'd have followed her to the ends of the earth if she'd thought it was what was best for Jack and me. My heart knew her. That she was kind, gentle, and soothing. That I truly enjoyed her company and looked forward to our meetings. That the way she gave advice was gentle, yet adamant. So like the mother she was and always will be. I knew she was taking good care of me, that she would continue to take good care of me. I felt no qualms or nervousness about having her deliver my child. Even when I was having trouble with my amniotic fluid and feared cord prolapse and c-section, I knew she would do whatever it took to make sure Jack and I were healthy. Her demeanor was so calm and competent. I don't know how one could have ever felt anything but peace in her presence.
I wish I'd known her better. I'd only met her about 8 or so months ago, and only been under her care for 6 weeks. I wish I'd known her longer. I wanted her. I still want her. I loved her a lot more than you would think 6 weeks could allow. I can't possibly convey what a huge waste this loss is, for everyone involved.
Her children range in age from early 20's to not-quite-two. It's such a shame for any mother to die when her children are too young to remember her, but I'm happy for the babies that they have their older siblings to remind them of what a wonderful person she was. They love her very very much, you could tell by their tears and their anger at the unfairness of it all. For her husband, who is grief-stricken. For her children, angry and heartbroken at the loss of their precious mama. For the church she was so active in, for the community she worked so hard to better, for the clients like myself who trusted her. Of course her children are angry.
How do you blog a life? To borrow the words of her son, I could stand here and spout words for years and never ever do her an ounce of justice.
Where she brought light, there is now only darkness. The world is better for having known her and bleaker for having lost her.
May her grace be with us always.

I forgot.

It's been, like, four years since I was pregnant. I forgot how much fun the third trimester is.

This pregnancy, I've felt great. Maybe it's because I've been trying to enjoy it since I know it's my last, and with the girls all I did was bitch about how uncomfortable I was. But at the beginning of this pregnancy, I told Aaron, "Never again." I don't want to spend my children's whole childhood pregnant. I want to run with them, travel with them, pick them up and swing them around. I want to be motivated to get the house clean and keep it that way, and to cook dinner every night. To exercise. I want to run a marathon. Basically? Set a good example for my kids. Not that having a lot of kids is a bad example, it's just not what I want. So, this is my last. I better enjoy it.
And I have. I feel great most of the time, aside from the morning sickness from early pregnancy. I have more energy, I'm not so moody and hormonal (Oh man was I a raging bitch when I was pregnant with the girls, I think it's the boy hormones that are keeping me more in balance.)

And then came the 3rd trimester. I forgot about the inordinate exhaustion. I don't do anything and I'm constantly pooped! If I do do stuff I feel like I've run a marathon. The heartburn when I didn't even eat anything acidic. The random contractions that remind me to drink more water and leave me sore the next day. The pain in my hips and pelvis; it doesn't matter if I've been sitting on my ass or walking around. They always hurt. The charley horses in the middle of the night, not to mention getting up 15 times to pee and not being able to sleep in between. And it's not even like I can sleep in; I get up earlier than the kids every single day to eat because I. Am. Starving! And my morning sickness is back. The long hours of the night without eating, give me a run for the bathroom almost every morning now.

Le sigh. I still want to try and enjoy the rest of this pregnancy. I'm determined to enjoy it. I am loving the belly. I love feeling him move inside me. I love how the girls are so excited to meet him. How Aaron finds my "teardrop shape" so beautiful and sexy. I'm not going to complain away the rest of this pregnancy. I just needed a moment. But I'm almost as excited about never being pregnant again as I am about meeting my son.

My husband is amazing.

I love him. Every day I wonder how in the world I got to be so lucky, how in the world he is crazy enough to love me like he does, and how in the world it just keeps getting better.
Aaron is at Airborne School at Fort Benning, GA. He has been in an Airborne unit for 3 years and never could quite keep his PT at a standard where they felt confident sending him to the school. Well this morning he passed that mother of a PT test and now he's going to be Airborne. The school is three weeks long, barring any bad weather. He is exhausted. "They make you run everywhere, baby!" In boots, no less. But he sounds like he's having a good time. I know he's happy to be there, no matter how sad he is to be away from us, and I'm very, very proud of him.