North Korea Stinks, Charlie Brown is Awesome and Thank you Santa Ramble

So here it is, the "most wonderful time of the year". I could tell you to contemplate what Christmas really means, to enjoy this time with family, laugh at all the maniacs in the stores fighting for parking spots instead of walking an extra 20 feet to the store and yadda yadda, but I'm not. I'm sure you've heard it over and over. I'm just going to do what I do best and babble about what I want to babble about....

I love Christmas. I love my family. I hate North Korea. There you go. I said it. Phew, now that it's out in the open I feel a teensy bit better. Not a lot, just teensy. My husband is currently stationed in South Korea and can't say a thing about what's going on, if it's getting better or worse or if it's the same ol' same ol' and I HATE IT. Thank you immature, bratty Kim Jong Il (pardon me if I spelled that name wrong) for acting childish over waters that you claim are "yours" when in reality it is everyone's waters. It is the ocean for crying out loud! You are going to hurt people and make people suffer over something that was here long before you were here? Long before you wanted to sport sunglasses and a fur hat that make you look like that old lady I see at the thrift store contemplating if she should purchase that VCR that's missing its pause button....get over it and your ridiculous ego please.

On a better note, or a few better notes:

Henry is now crawling....so fun! And cute, plus I think he's not fully aware that he's crawling so his confused expression while he's doing it is priceless. He also is getting his first teeth, and get this, they are NOT his bottoms like most babies. He is getting his two top teeth! The first one just cut through on his top left, in the front. My mom keeps calling him Bucky, ha ha!

I love this time of year because I can use Santa as a threat for my four-year old. I don't have to so much for my 10-year old, she's pretty well behaved as it is. But my four-year old, Olivia, is really testing me a lot lately. So I get to use the good ol', "Santa's watching you!" or "I'm going to call Santa" as I grab the phone and pretend to make that long distance call. Ahhhh, good times, good times.

Now....all I need is Charlie Brown's Christmas to come on t.v. like it does every year and I'll be content. Well, that and knowing my husband is safe and will be okay. I hate not knowing. I hate that all he can tell me is "I'm okay", "I'm at work" and "I don't know". That's it. That's all he can say. Oh yeah, he does tell me he loves me, and that's wonderful. But it'd be nice to know a little more detail. I need some reassurance I guess.

I read in an article that South Korea had this large, metal Christmas tree all lit up right by the South Korean and North Korean border and had a choir singing Christmas songs. Made me wonder, is it like "Whoville" over there and Kim Jong Il is the Grinch? Are they going to have Roast Beast? Well tell that Cindy Lou or whatever her name is to hurry up and work her charm on that egotistical fat head over there so I know my husband will be coming home safely, the troops and civilians will be safe and I can sleep a little more sound.

Okay, enough of my babble that made me write, type or blog (whatever you want to call it) all out of order....my English professor Mrs. Arnold would have had a fit over this and stamp it with a big fat F. I warned you, I was just going to babble. Nothing fancy.

May you have a wonderful and safe Christmas (or whatever it is you celebrate, I celebrate Christmas, therefore I say "Merry Christmas!") and a dazzling (and also safe) New Year!

Misses

I miss my Grandpa. I miss him saying, "I'll be out the door at 6 a.m. for my morning walk. If you want to go, wake up before then and be out the door with me at 6". He wasn't kidding. 6:01 a.m. He was already down the sidewalk. Those walks were great. We'd walk to the beach (he was like maybe a ten minute walk away) and by the bluffs. We'd get to see all the sea lions hanging out on the shore and rocks which usually only happened really early in the morning since there was hardly any people around at that hour. I miss my Grandpa and Grandma saying, "Whoever loses this card game will buy you and your brother ice cream". I loved it when Grandpa would lose because he would get us the double scoop! And it was always a fun walk to the nearby Thrifty's for the ice cream. I miss catching tadpoles with my Grandma and Grandpa under the nearby bridge, in the creek. We'd ride our old Schwinn Beachcruisers and walk them under the bridge, jars in our hands and try to collect tadpoles which would change into teeny tiny frogs. It was so exciting.

I miss sitting on the lawn at the university with my mom and brothers for Fourth of July and getting ice cream from that Mexican ice cream cart with the guy who pulled it and the little bell that would ring as he was walking. I miss going with my older brother Chuck to the store in the mall where my mom worked to wait for her to get off. I also missed doing that when she worked at this headquarters building, and my brothers or my little brother and my dad and I would sit in the grass waiting for her.

I miss having pet ducks and the nasty water in their wading pool had such a funky smell but it was so exciting to go to the backyard to chase around the ducks every day, pick them up and pet them (except for "Rambo", my little brother's duck, that one bit).

I miss wearing the same awesome Snow White costume my mom made for me year after year for Halloween. That was the best costume ever! She is seriously the best mom ever.

I miss going to my Great Grandma's and her always having fresh bananas for me (I loved bananas when I was a kid, still do, but when I was a kid it was as good as mac'n'cheese).

I miss my Uncle telling me funny stories about a belly button that would run away, those made me giggle so much! Along with other great stories he would tell, he was always so good at that. It was so cool to see him doing the same thing with my kids a couple weeks ago! I got all nostalgic and what not, ha ha!

I hope I can do for my kids what my mom, my dad, my brothers, my grandparents and my uncle did for me. Kids, if you ever read your mommy's blog....maybe you should be out catching frogs, chasing ducks or getting ice cream instead! Or take a walk on the beach. I hope I'm doing for you what my family did for me....

Like the night before wasn't action-packed enough with my 4-year old throwing her typical 4-year old tantrum and hitting her older sister along with a baby that did not want to be rocked let alone go to sleep. I woke up this morning looking like an after shot of a stunt man in an action movie....my nose was bleeding and not just drip drop, more like that gushing as if someone just knocked me square in the nose. But nope, there was no fights, no hits, no fists or feet in my face. Just woke up with a bloody nose. I knew within seconds this wasn't going to be it....there it was. Baby needed his diaper changed. Then the alarm went off (yes, I always happen to wake up minutes before my alarm goes off, it's so fun! Not.) and I had to get my oldest child up for school. So here I am, tissue in my nose (actually a baby wipe since I couldn't grab a tissue quick enough and wipes were the closest thing to me), changing a baby diaper, trying to make sure the younger daughter who happened to fall asleep with me wasn't kicking her baby brother off the bed in her sleep (notorious wiggle worm) and trying to shout out my oldest daughter's name to get her to wake up and get ready for school. Done.

Baby on hip, wipe in nose, 4-year old still in bed and me trying to spread cream cheese on a bagel one-handed in order to feed my 10-year old before I send her on her merry little way to school. Oh the beauty and mystique of it all.

Two hours later I realize my older daughter has an eye doctor appointment. Back to the school, get her out. But now, they are happily playing outside with their Papa and I have a nice quiet minute to enjoy my own bagel, a glass of pomegranate juice and blog. I would take a nap but I know the second my head hits the pillow one of them will come in because someone hit someone else, someone had an "accident", someone HAS to have this new toy they saw on TV, so on and so forth.

All this but it's moments like last night, where I watched my 4-year old dance in her tap and ballet class. She listens to the instructor so intently (something I wish she would do for me once in a while) and is so focused on getting each little step and kick right. Even the thought of it lightens my mood, along with watching my other one finally find something she truly enjoys as far as sports go. She started archery and it lights her up like nothing else has. She's tried soccer, ballet, tap, basketball and a couple other things. Granted, she did enjoy tennis and still does, but not half as much as she loves this. It made my (pardon me for sounding super cheesy) heart so happy to know something makes her this happy.

So that's it....that's my thoughts for today in a nutshell, aside from the monotonous errands and odds and ends that need to be done. Hopefully my certain little Mr. someone will start sleeping through the night soon so I can blog more. It feels good to let it out once in a while. Yeah, that's right, 7 months old and still not sleeping through the night. I don't want to hear anymore of this "Oh he'll sleep through the night soon" or "try rice cereal" or "make sure he naps less in the day". No no and no. He hasn't slept through the night "soon" just as everyone keeps saying. He has had rice cereal, baby oatmeal and other baby foods and nothing. I tried supplementing formula. Nothing (except spit up that stinks more). And he hardly naps, and when he does it's like little tiny cat naps. Okay, enough said. What my point is, whenever this "soon" is, whenever he will sleep through the night, maybe I can blog more. I hope everyone has a glamorous day as I did. I wouldn't change it for the world!

Carry on....

Oh the trends that bind them.

First I will start off by saying, I am not intending to offend anyone but I have a feeling someone or a few people might feel offended by this. And there are some great people out here, regardless of what they name their child or what they drive. I'm just making an observation and I'm sure I'm not the only one. I'm talking about observing the trends I see here on base. I'm pretty sure it's mostly an army thing, but it can also be just this base thing, I'll find out in a year when I go to a different base. But have you ever heard that in basic training, the soldiers kind of get brainwashed in a way? Well, I'm starting to wonder if it's to the extent of what they drive, what they name their kids and what they wear.

When I delivered my son here at the hospital on base (side note: The best birthing/labor/delivery experience I have ever had!), a nurse asked my husband and me what we were naming him. When we said Henry she let out a big sigh of relief and said, "Wow! I was ready for you to say Aiden or Peyton" and started chuckling. We knew what she was talking about. It seems almost every other kid here is Aiden (Aidan?), Petyon, Hayden, Kavon, Trayvon (Trevon?), McKayla, Mckenna and Lily. Oh good grief, stop it with the Lilys already! It's almost as if I see someone pregnant and I hear them or chat with them about their new addition, the second they say it's a girl, I know what the next thing they are going to say. "We're naming her Lily." Yes, it's a beautiful name, but come on. There are thousands of other beautiful names out there. Expand your horizon, please, before your daughters realize what you have done, feel like a cookie cutter child and rebel by changing their name to Moonbeam. There are a few other names that are more than just popular but almost seem like the names are standard issue names and the parents don't have a choice. But they do, and this is what they choose. I never thought I'd say it but I miss those names that make you wonder, "why did they decide that?". Banjo, Kiwi, Pilot, I almost (ALMOST) miss your peculiarity. Oh well, to each their own I guess (that seems kind of like an oxymoron since even though it's "to each their own", they seem to emulate one another).

Next "trend" I keep running into here: The cars. Either you drive a Dodge Charger or a new Ford Mustang. Oh, don't forget those rims that look like cheap silver plastic that my kids have on their 99 cent store motorcycle toys. If they're not driving one of these, then it's most likely they have a ridiculously raised truck or unnecessary Hummer with the "oh so cool" chrome gas cap. Oh, and please please put that bumper sticker on your car that displays your rank because that's so important outside of work. I understand, you work hard for your rank, and that's great. You probably went through stuff I wouldn't dream of going through. I respect that. But I nor should others think you're a cooler, better or more fun person to be around or we should let you walk all over us outside of work because you outrank others or their spouses. Give me a break. Leave your rank for when you're in uniform, when you're in charge of others, when you're at work, and so on. Outside of that, we are just as human as you are, mmmm'kay? And I promise, if my husband ever tries to use his rank outside of his job to take advantage of anyone or try to make himself seem cooler, he will get it. But I have a feeling no one has to worry about him going there.

Last but not least....the outfits. It's mostly the guys. The females out here, they tend to have their own thing, what they like and it's all good, for the most part at least. But the males, the majority of the males out here, I completely understand they have to have the same or similar haircuts, it's part of their career choice. I understand. But on your weekends or days off, do you guys have to dress the same? With your striped polo shirts (some are okay, but some are overdone) with your popped collars, your hats you are wearing in a style that makes you (at least you think) look "gangsta", oh or those shirts with the skulls or ed hardy-ish type designs. They are looking like the bopsy twins. You have to match and be uniform during duty hours and what not, yes....but I know there's a brain in there that has thoughts of its own, please use it!

But I guess in a way I have to thank these guys, they make my husband, my friends and myself look and feel more unique. I enjoy that at least. A lot of these people are great people, many of them are soldiers that put their lives on the line for us and I support and respect them very much. I'm just taking in the amplitude of the people that follow these trends within this subculture. Interesting.

If you read this and you fall into any of these categories, like I stated earlier, it was not my intention to offend anyone, and I know people that are my friends that fall into these categories. It does not make them any less of a person in anyway and a lot of them are very amazing and extremely wonderful people! I'm just making note of what I noticed to be what's the "in" things around here, no biggie. Anyway....Have a wonderful day!

typical day

Okay so my husband has been gone for training for two weeks now, seven weeks left to go. One thing I know that's really going to suck about all of this is that the weeks that he's gone is going to drag, the few weeks he gets to be home with us and helping us move out to California, those weeks are going to fly ridiculously fast. Then, when he leaves again for Korea, it's going to be long and painful. And that's not a mere 7-9 weeks again, that's going to last a whole year. Stinks. But it's what he signed up for and I was well aware of it while marrying him. I know he's worth the wait.

So....while I'm waiting, I shall babble on about a typical day at home now without him. Henry wakes up anywhere between 5am and 8am. That starts the day. Change his diaper, feed him, but only a little because he usually has a regular morning poo he likes to make for me (ewk, haha) and then I put him in his bouncer seat so I can get a few chores done (dishes, laundry, trash, so on and so forth). Then, if I'm lucky, I can sit at the computer and have a yogurt or some toast while he's still kickin' it in his bouncer. Sitting at the computer or doing the dishes, I usually feel a cold, little hand or hands wrap around my leg or tap my back. I turn and lift my little Olivia up to sit on my lap or to hold her on my hip. Then I have to take the sweet little 4-year old to the bathroom because I know if I don't take her first thing, she'll hold it as long as possible and sometimes have an accident. I start fixing her and her older sister, Alison, breakfast. When Olivia wakes up, Alison usually wakes up not too long after that.

"Brush your teeth, get dressed, clean your mess....," the typical things that I repeat on a daily basis to them. Then they play, watch cartoons or we run to the grocery store, get whatever might be needed, anything from bread to sponges to diapers. Then we try to hit the library. Sometimes there's activities during the summer for kids, like necklace making, tissue-paper fish making and so on. We then check out a couple of books (Right now I'm trying to read an Alice Walker book) and check out some movies from their limited selection. The girls found a few, including the infamous Beverly Hills Chihuahua (aye carumba, headache inducing, right?) and I came across Frida and the Squid and the Whale. I wonder if I'll even have time to watch the previews let alone watch the movies and read that book.

Lunch, dinner, it happens. Typical. Boring. Bedtime. Bath, pajamas, stories, maybe a movie before bed. Lately our A/C in this house hasn't worked so we've all managed to make decent spots in the only room that has been able to stay cool in this hot, Louisiana summer, and we snooze there. I even have a few different spots for the baby, Henry to sleep. Either the pak'n'play, the car seat or his bouncer. Sometimes he sleeps for short periods in his swing as well.

Anyway....this is how it's been. Of course we have had one. very long, very stressful night. And those come once in a while, maybe to remind me to take my birth control or to just help me build up my patience. Who knows what God has in store for me when these events happen but one thing I do know, just do it, get through it and I'll figure out the "why" part later.

I finally got Henry to sleep. Olivia decided to have two "#1" accidents (thankfully no number 2 but still, accidents still are no fun to clean up). Then, finally, got her cleaned up the second time, cleaned the floor and saw what time it was. Whoa. It's around 11pm. Time for bed. Tried to get her down stairs, and she was upstairs earlier (when she had her accidents) watching Beverly Hills Chihuahua (Oh whom ever had the bright idea for that movie, I hope they pay). She threw a temper tantrum because I wouldn't let her watch the movie three times in a row. Okay, like I wasn't exhausted enough getting the baby to sleep, doing the regular daily chores, cleaning up her accidents....now she's going to throw a tantrum. A half an hour flies and I finally get her calmed down, down stairs and laying down. Twenty minutes past that, she's asleep. Thankfully, my ten-year old Alison is self-sufficient, helpful and a great listener. She's been asleep for an hour now. I lay down. Yawn. Stretch. Relief. All the kids are asleep....wait....no. No. There it goes. Henry's awake and ready for a change and a feeding.

And that's a typical day....sometimes with events as I just mentioned, sometimes without. But the second my head hits that pillow and I know for sure all the kids are asleep, my body is merely recharging to get through the next day of events or no events but the same ol' same ol' still. And you know what? These kids, these kids are amazing, beautiful, full of energy and worth it. I wouldn't trade them for the world. They make every day, even if they're the same routine day in and day out, they still manage to make every day unique, special and not too boring. I don't just love them, I like these kids.

Think back, never go back

I was just thinking today about my high school days. It's funny how nostalgic I can get about a place I never ever want to go back to. Soccer, spending nights at friends' houses, hacky sack at lunch, passing periods were chances to scope out the "crush" and the dances that I dreaded. I only dreaded them because my sophomore year homecoming dance "incident". Ha, yeah. Good times....um NOT. Well, now I look back at it and it wasn't that bad, but for a teenager, it was mortifying.

First off, I was the type of girl that hardly dressed up, or wore a dress. I was a surfer/skater chick that, I wouldn't say despise, but I also wouldn't say love, the cheerleader type girls. Yeah, okay, so I was a cheerleader too once, well, in drill team. But that was so ancient history (junior high) and I had outgrown that. Anyway, back to my point. I hardly ever prettied myself up, never wore make up and never, EVER wore heels. But, for this dance, I really wanted to look beautiful. My mom found me this perfect red, satin dress and cute little heels that I could manage to walk in. I applied a little make up that I thought made my blue eyes stand out like stars. I actually used a hair dryer and curler! I looked like a young lady for once! There I was with my best friends Kristy and Showna, thinking we were looking great. Well, those two girls always looked pretty to me, they knew how to do their make up and hair more often than I did.

Standing there, checking out the scene at the dance, eyeing the "crush" hoping he got a glance at me, maybe, just maybe he'll actually check me out for once! Haha, right. Oh no. I should have gone before I left, those words that my mom used to advise me with repeatedly as a child echoed in my head right now when I realized the Sprite I drank while I was getting ready hit me. I didn't want to, I wasn't used to taking off and putting back on nylons. But I had to.

Oh so carefully did I, well, do my thing. Out of the stall, walk towards the sink and check over my nylons on the front. Not a run at all. Hey, I can get used to this girly thing, maybe, after I graduate. I walk back out to my friends, and we chatted for a little while. About what, I don't remember because about 20-30 minutes into the chat, one of my favorite songs came on. Salt-N-Pepa's "Push It"! I'm so there! Heading towards the dance floor, I felt a soft tug on my upper arm.

In a whisper my friend Kristy said, "Vanessa, you need to go back to the bathroom." Confused, I told her she was being silly, that I already went. "No, Vanessa, you need to go now."

"Kristy, I really don't get this joke or whatever you're trying to say," maybe I misheard her, with the music blaring and it being dark so I couldn't read her lips even.

"Your nylons....tucked...." And she mumbled a few other words I couldn't comprehend but the second I heard nylons I made a mad dash back to the bathroom. No. No no no no no! Please, okay, maybe I want my crush to check me out but now I'm praying he didn't. I had tucked the back of my beautiful, red satin dress into my nude colored nylons. Good grief. Thankfully, I don't think my crush hardly ever checked me out, and didn't now because he never mentioned it and wasn't laughing at me along with a few other of the guys that were when I came out of the restroom.

Yes, I was mortified. I tried to appear that I laughed it off and just danced the night away with my friends anyway. But it made me feel like if I ever had any shot of looking pretty or something "magical" happening to me at a dance, it was gone. Yes, I still went to dances, had a blast with my friends, boogied until my feet were sore. But I never expected much of them and didn't look forward to them as some might have.

Yeah, I am nostalgic and laugh about past experiences. Mostly about the ones in high school. But I would never be one of those ladies you see trying to look like they're 16 or 17 when they're in their 40s or 50s. Why do that to myself? I'm so loving being 30. If I have spit up on my shoulder from my baby, a yellow finger paint hand mark on my butt from my four-year old or glue stuck in my hair from helping my 10-year old with her school project, it's so much easier to not care now than when I was mortified but tucking my dress into my nylons and undies in high school. Especially since now I have a husband that thinks I look beautiful when I get up to change a diaper at 4 a.m. and the little one relieves himself on me with his, well, little hose. Where was he when I was in high school?

First time....

I guess this is considered my first blog....yeah....I'm late to the game. I did laugh at my husband for wanting to do it. Well, not really laugh but kind of teased him a little (in my loving way of course, heehee). But when do I not tease him? I know I get on his case way too much at times but I think it's my defense mechanism. I believe if I poke at him here and there, he won't see me as weak and he won't do what has been done to me before. I know, in my heart, he won't ever hurt me. But my brain is wired to believe that every man, outside of members of my family, will hurt me. Physically and emotionally. My brain is wired now to think if I appear strong and independent, no man will dare try to hurt me in that way ever again. He won't. I know he never will. But my scars wince at the thought of it happening again regardless of what reality is. Anyway, enough of that whiny babble....here I am....blogging. I thought it was so cliché, and it probably is. Eh, who cares anymore. I'm a mom of three beautiful kids, two girls, one boy. I am a full-time student with Penn State's online program, World Campus and an army wife, but not a "typical" army wife. Those who are military wives probably understand what I mean by that. If you're not a military wife or brat, then don't worry, I'm sure I'll dig into that later. Anyway, with all of this going on in my life, I figure maybe a blog would be a good way to release, well, myself in a way. Besides, every time I buy myself pens or pencils they mysteriously disappear, only to reappear dried out or broken in one of the kids' rooms, along with a baby doll or dressers decorated in a nice, blue ink.

NOTE: I had my third baby in April. I started posting this in January while I was pregnant with him but just barely got the chance to come back and finish it now....he's almost 4 months old. What? Things get hectic, I get distracted.