Six Months Old

Mah bebe is a giant. He is sooo strong and cute and rolly. This baby has brought so much joy to our family. The girls LOVE him. He loves the girls. He understands the word "sister" and smiles when he hears it. He kicks his legs and tries to hard to chase after them, and in the car seat, he laughs and laughs at their silliness.

He is trying to become a jack of all trades, but is a master of none. He's not sitting on his own (he can prop himself on his arms, but won't go from lying to sitting on his own), but he's trying to crawl. He gets up on his hands and knees and rocks back and forth, then throws himself on his belly and doesn't understand why it gets him nowhere. On his hands and knees, he can hold himself up on one arm, or two arms and one leg, but hasn't mastered crawling. I think he's just so eager to go that he is impatient. Right now he's on the living room floor, on his belly, fighthing with his binky clip. It's so cute!

Today was his 6-month checkup at the doctor. His assigned PCM is kind of an idiot. At what should have been his 2-month checkup that ended up being his 4-month (my fault), she didn't even touch him. I think she felt his soft spot and touched his cheek when she looked in his ear. She didn't ask what he ate, how he slept, or what his developmental milestones were. She made a snide comment about his diapers and blamed them for his rash. That's it. Even made a note in his chart so that next time I was there trying to get his rash cleared up, THAT doctor asked me if I used diapers or "towels." Ugh. ANYWAY. Today she asked what he ate, listened to his guts, and actually did an exam. I asked her for a referral to dermatology, so we can try and get to the bottom of this rash. She asked if it COULD be his diapers, and I told her no. I can't find a pattern of what makes it worse or better. I'm at my wit's end. So we got the referral, which is good. She asked what foods he ate and I told her we were still exclusively breastfeeding. She told me that waiting too long to introduce solids would cause an "oral aversion" to them. For one thing, I didn't realize six months and 4 days was "waiting too long" and for another, how many adults do you know who don't eat solid foods? DUH. Blah. Anyway, he doesn't have any teeth, and breastmilk is enough for him. I'm not going to feed him that cereal anyhow, when we do start. My opnion is that as long as breastmilk keeps him full, that's all he needs. I'm sure we'll start a few experimental feeding sessions sometime in the next few weeks, though. Just to see how it goes. I tried to feed him a fingertip full of mashed banana a few weeks ago and he choked on it! lol. So we'll see how that goes. Overall, it wasn't a terrible visit. Much better than last time, anyway. I wish she wouldn't tell me stupid shit like I'm a first-time mom. Aaron said he had to bite his tongue. She was telling us, "Sometimes you have to offer a food 4,5,6, times before they'll accept it." Which is common knowledge, and Aaron wanted to say, "Oh, you mean like we did with the other two?" haha. This ain't our first rodeo, lady. I didn't just find this baby on the side of the road. I'm well prepared to take good care of him. I'm not some 14-year-old mom, you know?

Anyway, he is 18 lbs and 6 oz now, and with a head circumference of 17 1/2 inches. He's in the 75th percentile for height, weight, and head circumference. Growin' growin' boy!! The time is going SO fast. I feel like he was just born a few days ago and now he's slipping away. I want him to slooooowowwwwwwww dooooooowwwwwwnnnnnnn.

Random Sharing vol. 2

The Fresh Beat Band makes me want to blow up the TV.

I need more clothes. Mine just don't fit, most of them. Jack is going to be 6 months old on Friday, so I don't feel right saying I "just" had a baby, but I still feel that I did just have a baby! I have been thinking of going to get some jeans from the Goodwill.

Yesterday I made some baby pants out of an old shirt, and a costume for Libby. She's going to be a ladybug! Except she's purple and yellow instead of red and black. The "shell" is made of felt, and it's stuffed. The pattern I used the pattern at http://blog.craftzine.com/archive/2008/09/how_to_baby_ladybug_costume.html calls for Velcro to stick the shell to the child's back, but I didn't want to sew or stick on Velcro and ruin the leotard, so I put ribbons on it so she can wear it as a backpack. I also stuffed it with old Wal-mart bags instead of quilt batting. My sister laughed at me. :) Tomorrow I'll go pick up the rest of the stuff the girls will need for their costumes. Em's school does a skate night at the local rink once a month, and we're going tomorrow. The girls will wear their costumes. Then the church has their Halloween party Friday night. I was kind of agonizing about what to get Jack to wear, but then I decided to make him be a lumberjack. He's got jeans and a flannel shirt, I'm going to use makeup to give him a "beard" and try to find a black beanie cap for him to wear.

My husband hasn't gotten promoted yet. They're giving him lots of the run around. A little extra money, aside from teh recognition he deserves, will be very nice.

We're probably going to be stationed at Fort Lewis, WA, next. It'll be fun! People are crunchy there. :D

Jack is so close to crawling. He gets up on his hands and knees and rocks. Every time I sit and think, "Oh my goodness he's going to do it" he flops down on that ole belly of his. It's going to be soon. He hasn't sat up yet, though! Crazy baby.

I was going to put some more stuff in here but I can't remember now. Oh, well.

I love breastfeeding.

Anyone who's known me for more than ten minutes knows I'm all about breastfeeding. I always have been. I was in my teens before I realized that anyone chose not to breastfeed. The idea was so foreign to me. My siblings and I were all breastfed to some degree, and growing up I was around lots and lots of babies and pretty much all of them were breastfed. It was always very normal to me. I remember when Aaron and I were discussing marriage and I told him, pretty out of the blue, that I was going to breastfeed. His exact response was, "Uh, okay." I'd heard stories of men who couldn't get over the idea that his wife's breasts belonged to him and didn't want to share. I wanted to avoid that kind of confrontation.

He's always been very very supportive of my breastfeeding. He tells me on a fairly regular basis that he loves how I breastfeed our babies. He tries to get men he knows to convince their wives to breastfeed. It makes me proud and it tickles me.

I planned on breastfeeding Emily for a year, then weaning slowly at about 15 months. That way, I'd "get my body back" for trying to get pregnant with another baby. I had no idea that I would fall in love with breastfeeding my baby. It's amazing, the feeling of relaxation, of being needed, of being the very center of this tiny, beautiful person's world. I went ahead and got pregnant at around 17-18 months, as planned, but didn't quit nursing. I was told to wean her, but I just couldn't do it. I had never known anyone who breastfed as long as I was doing, but it just felt right. One day, Aaron suggested I wean the baby, because it was odd to him to see a child her age nursing, and I told him to mind his own business. He's never suggested I wean again. Haha. She was pretty much self-weaning, and I told her that we'd be done once the baby got here. She did fine with that. The night I went into labor with Libby, contracting, nursing Emily, is one of my most cherished memories. It was one of the most beautiful moments of my life.

I nursed Libby for what felt like an eternity. She was much more needy than Emily was, and could never be distracted from nursing. If she asked for boobie, then boobie was the only thing that could make her happy. It could be very draining at times. When I got pregnant in September of 2008, I knew that if I nursed her throughout the pregnancy that she would want to nurse every time the newborn wanted to nurse, and I couldn't handle that. I had wanted to practice child-led weaning, so I was somewhat disappointed, but I didn't want to resent Libby for nursing as long as she had. We lost the baby, but I had already made my peace with weaning and was getting tired of it, so I slowly weaned her over a course of 6 months.

I always had this idea that nursing a boy would feel odd. Not wrong, but different, somehow, than nursing a girl. It's stupid, really, to think that. Breastfeeding isn't sexual, but I still wondered if it would feel as "right" as nursing my girls had. When Jack was born, that went away completely. I didn't even remember worrying for weeks. When he was born, and I started bleeding, I tried to get him to nurse for about half an hour before he latched on. Then, after I got back from the hospital, I couldn't wait to get him in my arms and get him nursing again. I cried as I held him again. Six hours is an eternity when you're away from your newborn baby. After that, we lay in bed all the rest of that day, and he nursed almost constantly. I was so exhausted I barely opened my eyes. I couldn't get enough of him and he couldn't get enough of me. It was peaceful, sweet, and quiet. So much better than the noisy, bright, non-private hospital. But I digress.

Nursing my children, all of my children, is a peaceful, fulfilling experience. Holding my darling angels in my arms, to my breast, is lovely. Their lips are so pretty flanged out while they nurse. Jack often wants to nurse in bed, and he pets my breast as he nurses. If he quits suckling for a bit and I move to unlatch him, he curls up like a shrimp and searches with his mouth. If he can feel my breast with his hand, he tries to pull me toward him. It's the cutest damn thing, it really is. I feel loved when I nurse my babies. I feel proud, and peaceful, and unburdened. Breastfeeding is wonderful. Aside from birthing my babies, breastfeeding them is the best thing I've ever done for them. I love it, I really do.

Random Sharing vol. 1

I have lots of random thoughts that aren't worth their own blogs individually. So here's a collection. Get used to these.

Where should I start?

My friend Meyanna's baby is getting bigger. She was born at 32 weeks because of sudden pre-eclampsia, and she's the only baby getting breastmilk in the NICU and is also the healthiest baby there. It makes me so happy.

My friend Tabbitha is moving away. I've only known her a few months. She lived in the apartment complex next door and went to the same ward as me. That's how I met her, at a meet and greet one evening. It surprised me that we hit it off so well, because I don't normally get along real well with Mo'mos. I do have some LDS friends but for the most part I get the feeling that they're either judging me for being a big fat sinner, sizing me up as a missionary project without really caring about who I am, taking me as a joke because I'm playful, or busy being offended that I use such terrible bad words as "crap" or "vagina." Anyway, Tabbitha's not like that. She's just a funny, sweet woman. I very rarely meet someone with whom I can be totally myself with right off the bat. I knew she'd be moving away, because her husband is done with his training, but it came on suddenly now. I'm so bummed about it. I just really really enjoy her company. Her kids, too. She has two kids and they get along really well with mine. Jack thinks her little boy hung the moon. She's probably on her way to the airport now. I wonder if she realizes how much I'm going to miss her.

My kids are getting so so big. Jack is really strong, and his personality is coming out full force now. I'm so ready for him to sit up on his own. He's outgrown his baby seats. I took away his bouncer a few weeks ago because when he was in it, he'd lean over to pick stuff up off the floor and basically folded himself in half and couldn't pick himself back up. I was afraid he'd flip it. Theyn, the other day, he was in his Bumbo, reached for a toy, and flipped himself out of it! It was on the floor so he didn't fall far, and didn't hurt himself. He was surprised, but concoled easily. I can't put him in that anymore either! Crazy baby. HIs dimples kill me. I'm so in love with his fat little baby butt. He pivots on his belly all the time. I have to watch him almost constantly.

Libby is so smart. She's just clever. Comes up with the funniest stuff. She's really the funniest kid I've ever met. I can't believe she's mine. Emily is teaching her to read! I've decided not to put her pre-k here. Tabbitha was very unsatisfied with the way they treated her daughter, and I don't want to take the chance that Libby would get a teacher like that instead of the great teacher Emily has.

Em's doing great, by the way. She's on the list to be tested for the gifted program at school. She makes straight 100's and says her work is easy. Her teacher has started having her and some other children in her class do a little peer tutoring with the children who are not catching on to new concepts as well. Emily's very good at it, and I love that they're doing it. I feel like it's very important for intelligent kids not to become too cocky, to realize that they're not higher or better than their peers who maybe aren't as quick. I also want to keep her busy with worthwhile endeavors so she doesn't get bored and start getting into trouble. I'm very excited to find her school is keeping on top of her. Her teacher doesn't want to put any undue responsibility on any of the kids, so she prefers to give the above-average children extra work to help exercise their lil brain muscles with.

We are done with soccer for the season. It was such a good run. We really enjoyed it, although it took a lot of time and stress to keep on top of. I want to keep the kiddos in extracurricular activities, to keep them physically fit, to keep them busy, and to help them find whatever it is that they love, that makes them feel like they're reaching their full potentials. We're going to wait and do our next activity next semester, though. We can only handle so much. We let them choose their activity, and they don't have to do it again if they don't want, but they will fully participate in their chosen activity and see it through. I ain't raisin' no quitters.

I haven't weighed myself today. I've appointed Tuesday as my weigh-in day, because Mondays suck hard enough already without making me want to throw myself out the freaking window. I'm not making a huge effort, yet, because I am alone with the kids more often than not, and I just don't have a lot of time to work out. I am working on my eating habits, though.

Speaking of eating habits, I may have to do an elimination diet. Jack still has this rash in his diaper, and I'm almost certain it's eczema. My friend Anna's son has eczema on his butt, so why can't Jack have it on his inner thighs? I don't want to do this diet. The most common dietary irritant in breastfeeding babies is dairy in the mother's diet. Dairy takes two weeks to completely get out of your system. I LOVE dairy. Love it. This is going to be really hard.

Jack's six-month checkup is supposed to be coming up. I'm having a really hard time convincing myself to go. For one, Jack is perfectly on par with his gross and fine motor skills. For another, we're not vaccinating. Last checkup, the doctor didn't even TOUCH him. AND, they're going to take one look at that rash and either tell me that it's yeast or that it's not yeast. Either way, their recommendation will be to switch to disposables. Which doesn't work, or I'd have done it. I'm all for well child checkups. I really am. There may be something wrong that you might miss, even if you don't vaccinate. But, I don't trust this hospital to catch anything. I have a friend who got her prenatal care at this hospital, and her baby's care for the first three months, and yet they completely missed the fact that this child had hydrocephalus, a congenital neural tube defect. Also, they missed an ear infection bad enough to burst another friend's child's ear drum, too. I really need to look into getting the kids seen off post.

Jack loves me a whole lot. He smiles at me and his sweet little dimples break my heart. When he's fussy I pick him up and he reaches around my neck and squeezes me. That's a hug, I don't care who you are.

Anyway, thanks for reading.

Fun dreams about sexy TV mens

My friend Summer says she is having recurring dreams about McSteamy. He's alright. I prefer dark men, myself. Tall, dark, and handsome, that's my MO. If I was dreaming about someone from Grey's, it'd definitely be Patrick Dempsey.

Last night I had a dream about David Boreanaz. But it wasn't about Boreanaz at all. It was about Booth. Oh, how I love me some Booth. This man is beautiful! Tall, broad shoulders, and dang he's got a pretty face. Booth is so much hotter than Angel ever was. I know I'm in the minority here, but vampires just don't really do it for me. Not based on vampirism alone, anyway. Plus I never really "got" that whole grr-face thing they'd do when they were about to attack. It's corny. Besides, it's a shame to put stage makeup all over such a beautiful face. That's my opinion, anyway.
Summer says Angel is the original Edward Cullen; vamp trying to be good, in love with a human. That girl can turn anything into a Twilight reference. <3

So in this dream, Booth and I were spending some quality time together, like we were in a relationship. We drove somewhere in his big sexy black truck, and there were dead bodies somewhere, of course. I can't remember where. All I know is that Jack woke up before Booth got home (I guess I was waiting for him to come home from something). So no hot Booth sex for me.

I'm sure this has something to do with my watching at least three hours' worth of Bones a day since we got our DVR.

I want my eternal family.

I was raised in the Church. I've always lived it, or tried to. About a year ago, I quit trying. I don't know what happened. I just wasn't feelin' it, and I thought that if you only do ONE thing your whole life, how do you know that's what's right or best for you? So I tried not doing it.

Today, we had a lesson on the Salt Lake Temple. When they first laid the foundation, they used sandstone, which has a tendency to crumble. Had they built this huge building on sandstone, there's no way it would have stood for as long as it had. President Brigham Young's vision was for this temple to last through the millenium. So they switched to granite.

I am rebuilding my foundation. On granite this time. I have been to the temple. My family is sealed together. Now it's time for me to earn that blessing.

Overweight.

I am overweight.
This is difficult for me to admit. I keep thinking of myself as skinny. I was always really slender growing up, and even after I'd had the girls and was "thicker" I still wasn't FAT. Sure, it took awhile to get into decent shape after having Libby, but it kind of came off mostly without trying too hard. When she was about a year old I started making an effort to really work out, and lost a lot of weight really fast. I'm talking 30 lbs or so in about 6 months. I'm sure a lot of it had to do with my drinking so much more water.

Now, to be fair, Jack is only 5 months old. He was ten pounds at birth, and I carried around a lot of extra water, which led to my belly getting more stretched out than before. My head knows WHY I look the way I do, but when I catch sight of myself in the mirror and recoil slightly, it really kicks my self-esteem in the butt. I lost about 20 pounds with Jack's birth (half of which was him, lol) but then gained about 6 back, and haven't lost it again. My weight goes up and down about 5 or so pounds. I am about 8-9 lbs lighter than I was when I delivered Libby.

This is really hard to admit, by the way.

Anyway, it's not the numbers the scale say that matter the most to me. It's how I feel, how I look, and how my clothes fit. I'm really not sure my hips are going to go back to where they were before Jack, though. Time will tell. Also, ever since Jack was born, I've had a mean sweet tooth. It's really hard to control what you're eating when you've never had to, before. But I'm a-gonna. I want to run a marathon by the time I'm 30. I want to be a good example to my children. I want to be active and energetic. What's the point in having kids young so you can play with your kids if you're too fat and tired to get up and run with them?!

I'm considering joining Weight Watchers. I think, before I do that, though, I need to just practice drinking water, doing little active things like walking to get the mail instead of driving, taking the kids on walks, etc. and also eating better, and watching my portions, as well.

I'm not really sure why I'm writing this. Maybe just to admit it out in the open. I'm not doing it to get compliments or for people to reassure me that I'm not that big or that I just had a baby. I know these things, but they don't change the fact that I'm not healthy and I'm not happy with myself, and things need to change. So. I'm declaring today, that they will. I hope to start making some real progress soon. Thanks for reading!

BONES!

This is easily the greatest show on television. I hate when I "find" a show, especially a drama with a really good storyline, after a season or two, and especially especially when I find it on a channel that plays the reruns, so the episodes are all out of order and I know I enjoy each one, but I also know I've missed a lot. The fun thing is that now that I have DVR, I don't have to watch TV listings like a hawk in order to see what's been going on! I just set it up to record every episode and watch it at my leisure. I'm still pretty confused, though. I love the sexual tension between Brennan and Booth. Of course it's cliche; the male and female partner, both superhot, kind of want each other even though they're trying not to. But, aside from the cliche, the banter and characters' personalities really cracks me up. Also, the science is really interesting. It calls to mind, though, an article I read in Popular Science discrediting some common forensics tools, based on the lack of a standard or measurement. I think it was the June or July issue from this year. You should try and get a hold of it. Also, did you know Emily Deschanel is a member of PETA? I guess she's a loony in real life, too! Haha.

I hate Mondays. I know it's totally boring and cliche to say so, but I really do. Now, to be fair, today hasn't been bad, but as a general rule, Mondays are teh suck. I guess some would say that I don't get to hate Mondays since I'm a stay-at-home mom, but Mondays are still difficult. Emily is not a morning person. Getting her out of bed is no picnic, even when she goes to bed nice and early. I've had to start threatening to spray her with water if she's not out of bed by a certain time. It works, too! I haven't had to spray her once. Her school has a really strict attendance/tardy policy, so it makes it hard. Also, I love the weekends. Aaron works really long days. He gets up at 4 am and doesn't get home until almost six most nights. We try and put the girls to bed by 8, so evenings aren't very relaxing with dinner, baths, brushing of teeth, and all that fun stuff. The weekends are a wonderful relief. I'm not so outnumbered by babies. We can both sleep in a little. I can get errands done. I can get my household chores done. I love weekends. Monday morning is always a disappointment. Sometimes it's a huge huge pain in my ass, but more often than not it's just frustrating. He's home every night, sure, but still I miss my husband.

Jack has this rash that I can't figure out. I'm racking my brains trying to make it go away.

Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs

I guess I'm slowly and steadily making some friends. It's nice!
Before Aaron joined the Army, I didn't really have girlfriends. I hung out with my mom. We used to all hang out with a few neighbors and their families, but then they closed down student housing and when we moved apart we kind of lost touch. When we got to our first duty station, I thought, genuinely believed, that once we all grew up that the "drama," a word that is really overused but also really apt, stopped. I found that to be very untrue. So I got my little heart broken a few times, and learned to chain myself up a little tighter, and to trust my gut a little better. I've never been a great judge of character anyway, and then when I'd get a bad feeling about someone on our first meeting, I'd convince myself to give them a shot, only to be proven right later on. I'm still working on that. It's hard. I want people to like me and sometimes find myself not being true to myself for that end. I'm working on that, too. I've learned not to put all my emotional eggs in one basket, and that not everyone deserves the same amount of love/effort/time.

I'm a very social person by nature. I'm outgoing, and I tend to get frustrated and depressed when I'm not getting any interaction. I think that's why I enjoy Myspace and Facebook so much. It's something. I've met some really amazing people on there; some who I'm content being internet friends with and some who I know, if I lived nearby, I'd hang out with them as much as I could. Reconnecting with old friends is really fun, too.

When we first moved here, we met a woman at church. This is odd for me. In my adult life, I don't tend to be friends with other Mo'mos. I always feel like they're judging me for being a "bad Mormon" or that they don't take me seriously. I am a kidder, but I'm not an idiot. Anyway, she's really funny and sweet. We hang out a lot, and our kids all get along great. Even her two-year-old; he's really gentle with Jack and Jack looks at him like he's a god. It's adorable. We also are friends with our downstairs neighbors. He was in his last phase of officer's training and they have two young kids. We've hung out a few times. They invited us over a few weeks ago right before he went on his hardship tour, and we went out to lunch with her today. It was nice. She seems very mellow and levelheaded. Then, we went to the movies. Emily's been begging to see Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs for weeks and weeks, so, as a reward for doing so well at the dentist on Wednesday, we took her today.
This. Movie. Is. Hilarious. HIGH-larious, even. And it's not even like some kids' movies, that have kind of "adult" innuendos that make it funny for adults as well as kids. It's just good, clean, silly fun. I almost dropped the baby a couple times! Just a really really good time.

Now we're home, and our a/c's not working right. It's not hot, perse (is that how you spell that?), but it's uncomfortable warm.

On a side note, my kids are ridiculously cute. Emily sometimes grabs Libby's face in her hands and says, very forcefully, "You are SO CUTE!" I love it.

This is why Wal-Mart is evil.

Seriously, it's like a black hole. The place EMANATES pure, smiley evil. I'm not talking about the pushing small businesse out of business or the mass-produced Chinese plastic toys. I'm talking about how nothing good happens there! Yesterday our trip went like this.

I park next to a woman whose car has a sticker with the word "Punanni" on it. Classy, no? So I whipped out my phone to take a picture and send to www.peopleofwalmart.com, just like anyone would do. Then, as I go to disengage the brake on the stroller, my flip-flop breaks! Not just came apart. The damn thing broke. So I take off the flip and walk with the flop, and then throw them both away in the trash can at the front of the store. Then, what else can I do but proceed, barefoot, into the Wal-mart with my three young children in tow, thinking, "Someone's gonna take a picture of me and put it on People of Wal-mart!" A checker stared at me as I walked through, and when I said, "I'm not a redneck. My flip flop broke," she wouldn't even look at me. That's some harsh judgment, yo.
So we go to the shoe aisle and, being that it's October, the flip-flop selection leaves a little to be desired. I'm looking at ugly, $10 shoes, and complaining loudly that I'm not going to buy $10 shoes I don't even like, when a very kind stocker-lady directed me to another display where I could buy arguably more ugly flip-flops for only $3. God bless her. Remove tags. Don ugly flip-flops.
We get milk. Some little kid is acting crazy in the Wal-mart, as seems to be par for the course. Then, obviously, Libby starts acting crazy. I quickly got down on her level and told her just because some other kid acts insane, doesn't mean she gets to. I'm not his Mama but I am hers and I will lay down the law.
Emily is hungry. I say, "Let's get some fruit." We get bananas and a few peaches. As I'm picking out peaches, I notice Libby has a plum near her face. "What are you doing?" startles her so badly she throws the plum back on the display, it rolls down, and makes a big SPLAT noise. It takes us about 8 plums to figure out which one she'd taken a bite of. (After she picked it up and put it back. Good reason to wash your fruit, people.)
Time to check out! We wait in line. (Not the line of the judgey lady.) Get the the front and realize I left my check card at home, and I only have $6 in cash. I know exactly where it is. It's on the desk at home, where I left it after I paid the gas bill. But that's not very helpful at this moment. So. We don't NEED bananas and peaches. We NEED milk. I'm also required to pay for the flip-flops and the ruined plum. I turn to tell Libby to come here and she's SUCKING ON A PUSH POP! Dang, man. I fuss, "Elizabeth!" and she startles and throws it back on the shelf. Um, no. Bring. It. To. Me. So now I'm required to pay for ruined plum, ruined Push-Pop, ugly flip-flops, and milk. Libby even has the nerve to say, "Yay, now I can eat the candy!" Uh, yeah. That did not happen. My total came to $6.61 and I had enough change to pay for it.
Whew.

Yeah. THIS is why Wal-mart is evil. That place just ain't right.

Help plz I r compooter dumb

I want to be sent an email whenever one of the bloggers I follow posts a new blog. Does anyone know how to make that happen?

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.