Thursday, March 29, 2018

Sibling Torment

Every morning I load ALL the kids up to take G to school because Erik isn't quite home from PT when it's time to go.

Every morning we drive up into the kiss-and-ride line (what does that mean, exactly?!) and the attendant opens the door and helps Grant out.

And every morning Piper hollers "HAVE A FUN LADY PARTY GWANT!" just as he's getting out of the car.

I don't know what it means or where it came from.

All I know is that it PISSES HIM OFF.

Every morning.

It's hysterical because she only does it to get his goat and he just hands it to her on a silver platter.

Every morning.

Wednesday, March 28, 2018

Just Another Day in Paradise

Ten years ago two little, married for 9 months, babies got on a plane and moved to Hawaii.

They lived in a hotel for a month without killing each other or accidentally getting pregnant.

They rented a huge house that was way bigger than they needed, but was often full of guests. (Interestingly, I just googled it to see if our asshole landlords still owned it - they don't - and the listing shows it to be 300sq feet smaller than the house we have now. That seems so painfully small.)

They figured out life past the newlywed/just-came-home-from-a-sixteen-month-deployment phase.

They left their windows open 363 days a year (save for 4th of July and New Years).

They learned to live on one income for awhile because no one in Hawaii wants to hire white girls.

One of us learned to cook...

They began to hate tourists and love driving in 5 lanes of traffic.

They walked through a second deployment together.

They traveled. Especially to Maui.

They fought.

They loved.

They grew up.

They became parents together in but an instant.

They went through another deployment.

The lived.

Oh, did they ever live.

They wished it wasn't so, but they moved away.


Our first picture as island dwellers!
It's hard to believe we were ever those babies. No bills. No kids. No nothing but each other and a dog.

We sure have come a long way.

I long for those days sometimes. Of solitude and napping on rainy days with the windows open. Of going to the beach with nothing but a book early on Saturday mornings. Of Sunday night dinners at a favorite Italian restaurant followed by coffees at Starbucks. Of impromptu weekend trips to Maui or the Big Island. But if I'm honest, these days are pretty great too.

After all, isn't every single day Just Another Day in Paradise when you're together?

                                         

Friday, March 23, 2018

The Next Phase

Here at Fort Stewart our "motto" is the Rock of the Marne.

We call the deployment train around here the Marne Express.

And the Marne Express does NOT slow down. Most do not get off of it until you leave. Sometimes if you're lucky you can tuck and roll as it pulls past the station, but it's sure as hell not slowing down for you.

Some units here have spent more time away from home than with their families over the last 3 years that we've been here. And while that's not uncommon for the Army, it's a lot less common than it used to be. We have been SO LUCKY that Erik has had jobs that have kept him home since we've been here, but we know it's a bullet we can only dodge for so long, and that's okay.

Because the homecoming is always worth it.

And as we speak, the old Marne Express is coming near to the station to let some folks off.

Yesterday, I picked a friend up from the mechanic she took her husbands car to to get serviced before he comes home.

A few days prior I noticed my other friends children all had fresh haircuts - because they're going to see their Daddy soon.

It's hard not feel so excited for them, but also remember how torturous those last few weeks and days are. They usually take longer than the entire rest of the deployment.

I think I'm almost as excited as my friends are!

Because the homecoming is always worth it.


Wednesday, March 21, 2018

This Is Us

I resisted jumping on the This is Us bandwagon for a season and a half. Everyone said you cry during every episode and I just ain't got time for that. BUT while I was visiting my best friends house last month, she turned it on and I was hooked within 15 minutes. I came home and have binged watched every episode (as much as one can with children and a husband at home that also want to use the TV/can't watch adult shows). I got all the way caught up last week. I was exhausted and my house was a wreck, but I'm all caught up.

And I have some thoughts. And maybe these are thoughts that someone has already blogged about because I'm obviously behind the times. But I have these thoughts none the less and there's no one here for me to talk to about them.

Just in case you are the only other person left in the world not watching this show, SPOILER ALERT. Stop reading now. Go watch the show and come back.

1. I will never look at my Crock-Pot the same. I am cooking in mine right now, but I was hesitant. I already had this hangup, by the way, but the Pearson's incident sure didn't do anything to make me less cray.
2. Also, NEVER GO BACK IN FOR THE DOG. Jesus H. It's House Fire 101. I love my dog, but damn.
3. I don't really think I like Kate. Homegirl needs therapy. Although, I admit that she endeared herself to me during the season finale of Season 2.
4. Or Kevin, really. Homeboy needs therapy for a different reason. Although, I admit that he endeared himself to me during the season finale of Season 2.
5. "Tobe" is exhausting. He and Chip Gaines are sucking all the oxygen out of the entire universe. THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE. Although, I admit, it made a little more sense after the season finale of Season 2.
6. I really can't decide if I like Jack and Rebecca or Roland and Beth more. I really, really love Jack and Rebecca's love. And I really, really love Roland and Beth's witty banter. I definitely think Erik and I are the most like Beth and Roland.
7. Why was Roland delivered at home? Was the mom already an addict? How was Roland not born addicted? Is it not coincidental that Tess was also delivered at home? Are these just things we aren't supposed to think of?
8. MIGUEL?! WHAT?! He was such a cruddy husband to Sherry/Sheryl/Shawna (or whatever her name is). I do not think Jack is looking down fondly on this marriage.
9. Nine deserves it's own paragraph.

It's it funny how Jack and Rebecca try SO hard to be good parents. Jack goes out of his way not to make his parents mistakes. Rebecca tries SO hard to make sure all the kid are loved the same - probably to a fault, but I think that speaks to how hard she tried. They are well-fed. They don't want for anything. They are so loved, and their parents are so involved. And they're fucked up anyway. Every last one of them. Jesus. I'm sure this is how real life is too.

Does that mean we're all just spinning our wheels here? Bless my heart.

Tuesday, March 20, 2018

Tornado Watch

I spent my first 23 years in Oklahoma, and probably all but six of those months were spent in a tornado watch. It was a way of life, not a thing to get worked up about.

But the second the alarm on my phone sounds a tornado watch in Georgia (where the like to blow the tornado sirens for nothing and fail to blow them for things that matter - like that time a tornado touched down 20 feet from my house...) you bet your sweet bippy I'm digging out the bike helmets and pulling my van into the garage. Gotta protect all my babies! ;)

And because #momlife, I also throw a can of Lysol wipes into the bathroom to clean it while we shelter in place.

Monday, March 19, 2018

Cold AF.

It has been bitterly cold here this week. I know, I know, I don't know from cold living here in South Georgia, I get it. But it has been cold for us, with a really biting wind. And spring soccer has already started, so that should indicate to you that we're supposed to be experiencing springtime weather, and not winter-ish (for Georgia) weather. Seriously, its colder today than any random day in November.

Anyway, it's been cold this week. And we were supposed to have soccer practice on Monday and I wondered if they'd cancel it. I even thought that if I had a small infant, I would have bowed out. I didn't really want to get out in the cold and I REALLY hate having to help everyone into their dadgum shin-guards, but I decided we were going to bundle up and get on out there. Because it's that or sit at home and sitting at home with three children is pretty hard in itself.

I had all this internal conversation with myself during lunch, and then around 2, the (dreaded) group texts for the soccer team starts buzzing with "Are we having practice? It's so cold and so windy!" and the coaches were all like "Yeah, the Youth Sports Office hasn't cancelled practices, so I'm planning to be there." And tons of parents were like "Nah, we're going to stay in. I don't want my kids face to get chapped by this wind." and "It's flu season, after all!" Okkkayyy. (Do people know how the flu is transmitted? Is that why it's been such a problem this year?!) But I stood my ground if I leave my kids with ANYTHING after I'm gone it's the idea that WE DO HARD THINGS. I said "We'll be there!"

(((Have I mentioned to you that somehow, someway, JESUS TOOK THE WHEEL OF MY LIFE AND BOTH MY KIDS HAVE SOCCER PRACTICES AT THE SAME TIME ON THE SAME DAY? Because that, my friends, is news worth sharing.)))

So the time came and I layered on the clothes, bundled everyone up in their least constricting jackets, and we set out on our walk to the soccer field.

(((Have I also mentioned that my VERY FAVORITE THING ABOUT LIVING ON AN ARMY POST IS WALKING EVERYWHERE?! I have a hate-hate relationship with car seats.)))

So we get there, the kids practice, Cubby and I shiver. And NOT ONE CHILD COMPLAINS. I was so ready with my speech about how in our family WE DO HARD THINGS and I didn't even get to bust it out.

Do they already know WE DO HARD THINGS? Have I driven the point home well enough already that I can just go ahead and check out of parenting? I admit to being pretty disappointed, but I'm sure there will be plenty of other opportunities to force my kids to do something they don't want to do by citing my little mantra.

Saturday, March 17, 2018

Some Art

Grant has always been very artistic. In fact, I didn't realize how early he developed his skill until I had the following conversation with his Pre-K teacher a few years ago.

Miss Faye: Do you save all of Grant's artwork?
Sheena: No... I just can't keep everything.
Miss Fay: You should! He's fantastic!
Sheena: He is?
Miss Faye: Yes! Look at the pictures the other kids in class draw.
Sheena, looks at the chicken scratch barely resembling anything, while Grant has drawn an entire mountain-scape, with labels: Oh.

I just thought all kids were good artists until perfectionism and self-criticism took hold and they started to think too much. Turns out I was wrong.

Piper took a little longer to hone her artistic skill. If I'm being honest, home-girl still struggles to color inside the lines. But hey man, we all have our strengths. I'm not worried.

And then one day she drew this. She said it's all her little neighborhood friends, and I could have died. And they're all holding hands which is just about the sweetest thing ever.



Sometimes she makes me want to pull my hair out, and sometimes she's so presh I could squeal. I imagine this is what raising a daughter is like pretty much all the time.

Thursday, March 15, 2018

Snack Time

Can we please discuss this please?



This is the snack my child was sent home from soccer practice with last weekend.

A) Are we doing this after practices now too?!
B) Is this a snack or a small meal?

Listen. I'm all about the Pinterest Mom life, but this is out of control. If this doesn't personify the over the top nature of parenting these days, I just don't know what does.

Buy some ding dang animal crackers and some Gatorade and call it good. Because that's all you're getting out of me. Sorry to disappoint.

Just kidding, I'm not. I've got three kids to send to college. I can't buy two soccer teams' worth of Uncrustables for soccer snacks twice a year.

Monday, March 12, 2018

HIMYM

Did you watch How I Met Your Mother?

Of course you did.

Do you remember the episode where Marshall and Lily have decided it's time to buy a house and they're scouring NYC for the best new area because they can't afford SoHo and NoHo and blah blah blah, and they come across a listing for a house in the up and coming neighborhood of DoWiSTrePla? So they go take a look at the house and while they're on the tour they notice the place smells absolutely terrible and they finally figure out that DoWiSTrePla means Down Wind from the Sewage Treatment Plant?

Yeah?

That's where I live, too.

Friday, March 9, 2018

Who Thought This Was A Good Idea

I'm just going to continue my trend of book reviewing, because I need shit to talk about on here for my two readers (Hi, Karen! Hi Jess!) and because I don't usually get to enjoy two books in a row, because I have serious issues. Seriously, I'm kinda nuts.

You probably know I listen to my books on Audible so I can listen in the car or while I cook (both of which compose exactly 92.6% of my life), but for someone who is a little cray like I am, this can sometimes pose a problem. Narration. If you talk too fast, too slow, too lispy, too Australian, too much like Bernadette on the Big Bang Theory, whatever, I just can't with you. I will return your book like a hot damn potato if I can't stand how you talk. Regardless of content. I want my credit back.

So finding a book with quality content AND quality narration is quite the feat.

Last year I got in to listening to memoirs. Well, first I got into books read by their author (which, in my most humble opinion, brings a whole new level of enjoyment to a book because you can hear it how the author meant for it to be heard) and then I asked myself which books would be best read by their own author, and the answer of course, was memoirs. So far, this plan has panned out quite nicely and I have learned about some things I ordinarily wouldn't have. Like Hollywood. And the Obama White House. And soon, the life and times of Rob Lowe. I'll be sure to let you know how that goes.

Recently I listened to Who Thought This Was a Good Idea?: And Other Questions You Should Have  Answers to When You Work in the White House by Alyssa Mastromonaco. (The number of times I had to reference her amazon page for the exact title and how to spell that name correctly is kind of embarrassing and kind of took the wind out of my writing sails if I'm being honest.)

The book was fantastic. I, obviously, am not a Democrat, so I was a little hesitant to dig into her book and then be disappointed by constant political commentary or attacks (like in Thanks, Obama), but seriously, the woman is HILARIOUS. I really want to be her friend. Anyone who can be forthcoming about an attack of IBS at Buckingham Palace deserves a cocktail.

This book gets the Double Yes! Funny content and an engaging, non-lispy narrator!


Wednesday, March 7, 2018

On Motherhood.

I try really hard not to yell at my kids. I did NOT want to be the cranky mother. I read all the books. I pinned all the pins.
Turns out kids make it really hard to be the mother you planned to be.
Turns out, kids are maniacs.

End of post.

Monday, March 5, 2018

Forty Five

When you ask Piper how old I am, her little lispy voice sounds like she's saying "forty free." God bless me, I try to correct her. In fact, no person has ever been more motivated in speech correction than I, each and every time she says her mommy is "forty free."

In a few short weeks, I'll be turning "forty four," which, God willing, will lead to "forty five." And "Forty Five" seems like the age by which I really need to have gotten my life together. I do not mind aging, or even being the oldest person in the room (which is happening more and more as Erik advances, if I'm being honest). I'm not sure how to act my age.

I still feel like I'm in my early-twenties, with maybe just a lot of life under my belt. I'm pretty sure I still dress like a college student. And I feel like our house still looks like a mish-mash of shit that we cobbled together from our parents basements when we moved out.

I was telling someone recently, that when I look back on "senior spouses" at unit events from my time as a baby Captain's wife, they all looked so beautiful and accessorized and clean. I do not feel like any of these things. I feel like a hot, frazzled, scraggly mess most of the time. I know that part of the difference is they didn't have very young kids at home, but I'm not sure how long I can ride that wave. I really don't want to be the conductor of the Hot Mess Express anymore.


Last week, I had my friend down the street give my hair a desperately needed trim; it's short enough to hold curl and look more put together again. I really feel like some highlights might be in order too. But alas, ain't nobody got time for that. Curls instead of a mom bun will work for now.

This week, I'm on a mission to revamp my closet. I've spent a little money on some new spring pieces and I'm going to do a really brutal purge of what I have left in my closet from my last one before they come. I'm done with "more is better." I've been working on that for years, but not in respect to my closet.

Then I think we're gong to move on to more intentional decor of the house. I'm tired of my eyes falling on things I don't "love."

When we first moved here I went through and "Kon Mari'd" our possessions (we lost 1,000 square feet moving into this house from our last, so something had to give) but the cheap skate in me didn't replace the things we "need" with things I love - and I can feel a difference. I'm not keeping things because they "work" anymore. And I'm going to apply this to my closet as well.

So here we go. My last few weeks as a "forty free" year old are going to be filled with organization and reflection on what truly brings me delight as I prepare for 34.

It will be a good year.

Sunday, March 4, 2018

Wonder

I am constantly on the prowl for a good book to read but lately I have been struggling to find books that stick out to me. Am I the only person who feels like EVERYTHING in the fiction world is tired and repetitive?

Recently someone on my Facebook NewsFeed posted that her sister-in-law was starting an online book club and was looking for participants. This rang.my.bell. I joined ASAP.

The first book was Wonder, by R.J. Palacio and I am not ashamed to admit that I was NOT excited.

If we're real life friends, you've heard me say and discuss online when asking for book recs, that I don't want ANYTHING Holocaust-y, anything where a kid gets hurt or killed, or any kind of martial discord or Sophie's Choice shit. (You see now why I struggle to find books to read...) Wonder seemed to fall into the category of a kid getting hurt - not physically, of course, or that I knew of, but I knew the basic premise and I didn't want any part of it.

HOWEVER, you may NOT know that I am absolutely a buckler to peer pressure. Or maybe it was just my super guilty conscience. But I didn't want to seem like a jerk by punking out on the first book of the club, so I added it to my Audible list and started off on my journey.

I won't give you a synopsis here because now that the movie is out, pretty much everyone knows the basic premise of the book.

But I WILL tell you...

I loved it. I laughed. I cried. I learned how to be a better mom. And I remembered what it was like to be a kid that was a little bit damaged but so much more than that.

Get your hands on this book!

Friday, March 2, 2018

#353

I have published 352 entries on this blog. I have such a love/hate relationship with it. I can't be funny or insightful on command anymore, it would seem. I need a plan for what I'm gong to talk about next or the blog itself is just another ball I'm trying to juggle but keeps getting dropped. Unless my house needs cleaned, like now, in which case it's easy to come up with crap to write about. Like this:

Recently some friends and I got together for a Fiesta Dinner in observance of National Margarita Day. One of our friends' mothers was in town and joined us for dinner after folding 10 loads of laundry at the friends house because Grandma's are cool like that). She had raised 5 kids (4 girls and a boy) and we were laughing about what a chaotic scene the whole thing was - 10 kids, 4 moms, 1 dad and a Grandma. Someone pointed out what a hot mess everything was and the Grandma laughed.

I said "Oh God, please don't tell us now that we're going to miss this."

She said, "Don't worry, you aren't."

HAH!

Thursday, March 1, 2018

Thoughts on the Best of Friendships

Last week I made a whirlwind trip to VA to visit my best friend and her family, including two new babies that I haven't gotten my hands on since they were born in November! And those sweet babies, though fabulous, were not the highlight of my trip.

If you don't already have one, you have got to get yourself a friend with whom you have so much to talk about that you get a sore throat 24 hours in to the visit. And you should leave visits with this friend exhausted from staying up so late talking, ridiculously full from eating and drinking so much, and a heart full of the kind of love and affirmation a close friend can provide.

A spouse that accepts you warts and all is one thing. A friend that can poke gentile fun at those warts is another. Because they have them too.

I am so grateful to have come upon this kind of friendship. Each visit is a renewal. From which I need a juice cleanse. ;)