It's Official

I'm married to a bad ass, if you didn't already know.

Got the text from Husband this morning that he was selected to continue SF training. As a Captain in the Infantry that is a huge accomplishment. From what I've read SF is extremely choosy about the officers that they select to be a part of their Elite. I still haven't been able to actually speak with Husband about all the details yet, but I can only imagine that the SF cadre was secretly slobbering over him the whole way through. He would never brag about himself this way, but that's why he has me. His interpersonal skills are phenomenal, land-nav- forgetaboutit, PT- let's just say I married him cuz he's pretty.

I would always prefer him home with me instead of going through a school that would put another patch on his uniform or better his opportunities in the military; I am a selfish broad at heart, I want all of his time for myself. But I can't deny the extreme sense of pride I feel on his behalf when he is successful.

A Song For Tonight

Normally I would recommend this song with a couple shots of Jack after a long, lonely day. But it's still good sober.

I Let Love In - Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

They also did the original version of 'Loverman'. Metallica did pretty good, but I have to admit I like the original more.

He Lives

I talked to Husband today. I wasn't planning on hearing from him for a few more days so it was a fantastic surprise. He finished the course and is going to be home a couple days earlier than expected. He won't find out until tomorrow whether he got selected or not. He won't be able to tell me barely anything about the course, and obviously I won't be able to post any stories that I do get out of him here. Wavers were signed, jail threats were implied. But he did say that he feels properly mind-fucked. I'm wondering if it's going to be a sort of culture shock for him to come home to a loving and safe environment. Safe for the most part... I can be pretty unpredictable during a hormonal surge.

Internet Explorer

Has it been crashing for anyone else?

Update:
Just went to the twitter homepage for the first time. I was curious what all the fuss has been about. I refuse. Realtime updates? WTF? I know some of you out there probably use it... but I just can't imagine anyone finding realtime updates of my life that interesting.

Changing a shitty diaper.

Laying down on the couch like a beached whale.

Gremlin found a shitty diaper and is now beating me with it.

Too tired to defend myself.

Crying in a ball.

Gremlin set a cat on fire.

I can't roll off of the couch. Spraying the cat with my squirtgun to try and help put out the flames.

Forgot I put flamables in the squirt gun like AJW and Orlok suggested.

The Fire Department just arrived.

They said I have to get off the couch. Damn. Game over.

Boooo. Twitter is lame. Or maybe it's just cool for people that actually have a life. That's probably it...

Vagina on the mind.

I was thinking...

When I worked at Starbucks we would refer to our regulars as whatever drink they ordered. For example we had people like 'Decalf-grande-no-lid-misto-guy' or 'Triple-venti-sugar-free-vanilla-nonfat-extra-hot-latte-girl'. We did it all the time and every one would know who we were gossiping about just by their drink description. So much brain energy put to waste. Your local barista's probably do the same thing to you, just ask 'em.

It makes me wonder if gynecologists start to look at their patients the same way. You know, like: hey! It's 'Smelly-hairy-pimply-vagina-girl!', or 'Peppered-grilled-cheese-flapping-in-the-wind-lady', or 'So-fresh-and-clean-she-makes-me-want-to-try-being-a-lesbian-for-a-while-chic'. Those doctors have got to get sick of looking at snatch all day long. Another embarrassing habit I developed as a barista was trying to imagine what kind of beverage random people might order. I couldn't help it. The thought would just enter my mind and suddenly my innocent people-watching would turn into a gross evaluation of a persons taste in coffee. I wonder if gynecologists see women walking down the street and picture what kind of vagina they're sporting under their skirt.

Just a thought.

Decisions... Decisions...

With only four weeks to go until my estimated due date for Beta Gremlin, I still don't have 100% confidence in how I plan to deliver. I am currently leaning towards one option significantly more than the other. But I'm curious: what do you think? I will not base my decision on this poll because I'm... well... not an idiot. But the topic has been on my mind for months now with no answer seeming to be the PERFECT one.

Some info about me:
1. My previous C-sec was due to Gremlin being in a breech position.
2. I have met with MANY different doctors who have given me ranging opinions from 'you are a prime candidate for a successful VBAC' to 'It's dangerous! I just had to perform an emergency c-section on a patient with your similar situation!'. Yeah, military hospitals... you never know what you're going to get.
3. Husband will be deploying one month after the due date.

Alright, Freaks: tell me what you think. I will leave the poll there, on the sidebar, until I've made my decision. Please feel free to leave a comment detailing why you would choose one over the other. If you don't give a shit, then carry on.

Which reminds me:

4: Maiden does not want to poop in front of other people during labor.

Kat, don't read this.

God, I'm having a shitty day. At first I thought it was some sort of mom karma for my last post. I woke up ready to cry and it was one of those mornings where Gremlin was crying that she was hungry and then threw everything I gave her on the floor. Then I had an unexpected nervous breakdown while I was stirring Gremlin's second bowl of oatmeal. She had never really seen me cry before so she laughed nervously from her high-chair. I couldn't help myself and I said something like "No, honey, mommy's not feeling very good". Then her little bottom lip puckered out and she started crying. I must have scared her. I felt like such a horrible mom letting my emotions affect her in that way. So I picked her up and she wrapped her arms around my neck and we both cried for a minute. I hope I didn't traumatize her...

Then as the morning went on I decided we needed to get out of the house. So we go to Starbucks and Gremlin throws a little shit-fit because she was SO offended by a piece of banana that I tried to feed her. I got embarrassed that my child was screaming in public, which she RARELY does, and whisked her away and took her right back home. It was definitely a mistake for either of us to make a public appearance today.

At home, I went into Gremlin's room to put something away and when I came back out she was standing in front of a book case gnawing desperately on a book shelf. Then I realized, duh! She's teething... and she's been constipated. And she can sense that some thing's not right with mommy. Then when I put her down for a nap I decided it might be good for me to get a good cry out by myself so that it didn't sneak up on me in front of Gremlin again. That's when I realized why I'm so upset.

Monday I'm planning on driving down to the cemetery to meet family at my dad's grave. Every night for the past few weeks he's been on my mind right before I go to sleep. And I tell my self 'don't think about it' because it's still to hard for me to face. But I keep picturing him. I keep remembering things that were said. And as much as I've pushed all those thoughts away, I just can't avoid it. I miss him so much. More than I thought I would. Today it all just happened to culminate and I've had to realize that this avoidance tactic will only work for so long. But it also doesn't seem to do any good to face it. Both options suck.

And my brother, you may know him as 'Baby Marine', has had it way worse than me. He's stationed near the cemetery where our dad is buried. Whenever there is a funeral that requires a Marine present he gets put on that detail. AND this weekend he was told he has to be on the Color Guard and go around the cemetery with a bunch of boy scouts while they place American flags at the grave sites. The other day he attended a funeral where a father had died in his 80's. He stood there stoically listening to the family cry about how unfair it was. And I'm sure it was. But it made the unfairness of our father dying at 53 stand out a whole lot more. What a shitty detail...

On top of all this I've been having a recurring dream that I talk with husband somehow. Either he comes home earlier than expected or he is able to talk to me on the phone. Every time he tells me that he's failing and he's not going to get selected. This is just my unspoken fear coming out in my subconscious, I'm sure he's doing great out there. It always makes it more difficult when he's in a school that allows him NO contact whatsoever. And part of me doesn't want him to get selected for SF. I miss him. I want him to lose interest in the Army so that we can get out next year and actually be together as a family. That's not going to happen though. Still, I fantasize that he comes home, with a box of warm, fresh, chocolate donuts. Then he takes Gremlin to a park while I nap at home and have some much needed time to myself. And then we get a call from his commander that the deployment in July is cancelled and everyone's taking a month of leave.

Psh.

But! In reality, Gremlin's a mess, I'm a mess, and Husband won't be home to give us a break from each other because he's somewhere in North Carolina working his ass off in humid, 80+ degree weather.

1 week to go.

Todzilla

As much as I might joke about Gremlin, she is really sweet, loving and enjoyable. Plus, she only hits me when I really deserve it. Raise your hand if I just described your ex-boyfriend!

Anyways, a couple times a week I take Gremlin to her adorable little 'toddler gym'. It gets her energy out and exposes her to all the other little Gremlin's so that they can compare notes on how to take over the world. One other 'little' girl, in particular, does not seem to take a very diplomatic approach. This girl, we'll call her Todzilla, has an extreme attachment to toys. No toddler really enjoys sharing, but Todzilla appears to have serious anxiety seeing all the little one's playing with the toys in the room. It's as if she's envisioning a massacre with the end result being her laughing maniacally in a pile of bloody toys.

Normally I've observed her bullying which ever unsuspecting child crosses her path. She pushes boys over, and grabs things out of other kids' hands. She's like a little cave-person. But today she decided to focus on my child. Of course I go into super-defensive-mommy mode, but where do you draw the line in disciplining another moms tyrant? The thing is, Todzilla's mom caters to this behavior. It's weak. It's as if she, too, is afraid of Todzilla. Every time her daughter makes mine cry she avoids eye contact with me and mumbles an apology. I'm sure it's embarrassing for her, but she's in good company. If she needs to pull her little beast aside and beat the shit out of her, no one understands more than a room full of other toddler moms.

Weak. Weak. Weak.

Yeah, I took that shit.

I know, enough with the little white flowers... But we were at the park the other day and my friend's little girl had gathered these up and placed them on the pic-nic table while she played. I couldn't help myself. They look like huge daisy's in this pic, but they're just the little dandelion sized ones. Can you tell I'm bored today? That's rare... Gawd, I just realized I haven't written a story in a long time. Maybe I can muster something up one of these days. Children suck the creativity right out of my brains. Those are the real zombies I battle everyday.

"Thanks Mommy, your brains taste great!"
"No proble.... *drool*"

There's something going around.

And it's silly.


Husband showed this to me before he left. Some of his men had shown it to him. Now I'm sharing it with you. Whether you like it or not.

I still haven't heard from Husband yet. No news is good news. Even if he makes it all the way through SFAS that still doesn't mean he'll get selected. He'll be home in two weeks and then he gets two weeks of leave. So... enjoy my delightful company while you can!

Hello, my name is Simon...

And I like to do drawerings!

This seems like a great site for anyone who already likes to draw or would like to start. I was looking for something that would help me get back in the habit of sketching more frequently. This is a free site, though you do have to register if you want to view any lessons beyond 'Beginner', I believe. It's a clean format with good tips and exercises.

Now you know. And knowing... is half the battle.

Nothing like a windy night...

To put you on edge.

Whenever Husband leaves for a while I feel a sense of vulnerability like no other. But on a night when it's especially quiet in the house, and the wind is blowing just enough outside to make the screen door squeak back and forth I can't help but be on edge. The random noises make the cats perk up and go on edge, and I consider them my silent alarm.

It's on nights like this that I sit at my computer in the front room with a cell phone dialed to '911' and a loaded weapon right next to it. Tomorrow I'll see what I can do about removing the screen door. It's useless and doesn't close all the way. All it really does is create unnecessary noise outside my door and I don't need that when I'm already locked, cocked, and ready to rock. If I hear something outside, I want to be absolutely sure that it's not a normal creak around the house.

I forget, is it better to aim for the head, or the chest? I think that tomorrow I'll also stop by the local police station and enquire about home defense classes. Of course I'm not going to volunteer any information about what I'm 'concealing' in the house, I just want to see what they would have to say. Also, if I have a cell phone number from another state does it still dial out to the nearest '911' operator? I'm sure it does, but that's just one more thing I would like to confirm. God, now I'm just babble-typing.

I can't help but think of all the victims there must be in the world that have thought 'it'll never happen to me...'. I have no interest in living in fear, just preparedness. If some coward came in and stole all of our shit while we were gone, that's just fine. Fuckem. But if someone came in while we are obviously home that means they're ballsy enough, and dangerous enough, to be my target practice.

The only thing that I'm completely sure about tonight is that I won't be getting any sleep and that's what pisses me off. I like my sleep. It's nights like this when I'm jealous of rich important people that can afford great big walls and armed body guards and security cameras. They must sleep great. Oh wait, they're probably losing sleep worrying about the government getting all their money... I guess we're all screwed.

Oh well. Sleep tight. I'm going to go snuggle up to my arsenal and hope for the best. Funny how it was once stuffed animals that comforted me at bed time.

Got a new camera today...

And I like it.

Now I'll really be able to zoom up to Gremlins nose hairs. I'll have to get more familiar with it, but that's half the fun.

A Word to the Wise:

There's nothing worse than blasting a bare-assed, pregnant fart into your towel after a shower and then, without realizing what you're doing before it's too late, whipping that towel up onto your head to dry your hair.

Wouldn't recommend it. Almost sent myself into early labor.

Now I'm Strapped

Not that way, you perv.

I have a new gun that I keep by my side at all times. It's not as dangerous as the others, but it serves a purpose. One of the bastard felines that I allow to live among us has gotten in the horrible habit of pawing at Gremlin's door at 4am trying to wake her up. I don't know what he means to accomplish by doing this other than getting murdered by me...

Oh yeah, the gun. Yup, it's a Stingray. I got it at Toys R Us. It's ok, you can be jealous. I can shoot the cat from about twenty feet away without losing too much water pressure or accuracy.

Before I got the water gun I'd been rushing my fat pregnant ass out of bed and chasing the cat with a cup of water in the dark. Why go through all this trouble for a stupid animal? He provides good photo op's with the Gremlin. Maybe someday I'll win a contest for one of the pictures and it'll make up for all the trouble.

In the meantime I'll just get my kicks by shoosting a blast of water up his ass and watching him bounce five feet up in the air. I'm hoping I can give him a nervous twitch.

Day 1

I haven’t heard from Husband today. I guess that means he’s doing well. I’ve had the strangest mix of hope and dread that I would get a solemn phone call from him saying he was coming home and it didn’t work out. I would be glad because I miss him terribly already, but it would be a horribly severe disappointment for him.

Well, I'll just let this song speak for me...

Tired Of Being Alone - Al Green

Happy Mama's Day.

Once again, another holiday where I receive flowers from my husband via a delivery guy at the door. You know, I'd rather be given a dump left in the toilette with the seat up even if it meant Husband was home to do so. I don't mean to complain, at least he cares enough to send flowers. He knows I don't really get into all that foofy shit but he sends them anyways and that's what makes it special.

I drove Husband and our good friend to the airport at about 3am Friday morning. They were both selected for Special Forces so they had to fly out to North Carolina to go to selection, which is basically just try-outs for the Green Beret's. It didn't actually start until this morning, so I got the 6am phone call from Husband letting me know that unless he gets dropped or something this would probably be the last time we'd be able to talk for three weeks. That's why I've been neglecting this place for the past couple of weeks: we've been trying to soak up as much family time as possible before Husband is torn away once again.

Our good friend that went as well has a wife and 3 year old daughter here. His wife is very dear to me and their daughter loves Gremlin as if she were her own little sister. The three year old is not coping so well with Daddy going away. She adores him and it's like she's become possessed with anger since he left on Friday. My friend and I took our little gremlins to a nice brunch this morning to celebrate ourselves because we are such awesome mothers... I watched as 3yo looked at her mom with hatred for the littlest things. She doesn't actually hate her mom, of course, she just doesn't quite know how to deal with her anger at daddy being gone. My friend says she's not a very patient person, but I've watched her parent this furious little child with the utmost amount of patience and love. She said that the other day, when they got home from playing with us at a park, her little girl started hyperventilating and crying that she 'just wanted daddy to give her a hug and a kiss one more time'.

Happy Mother's day to you, my friend. For you bare a burden on your shoulders that your husband may never understand fully without witnessing the pain you carry for yourself and your child. I'm grateful, for now, that my little Gremlin is not quite old enough to process what's going on. The time may come, but I can only hope that we'll be climbing out of the military world by then.

Husband says the only reason he's trying to do SF is to help set us up for success when we want to get out of the military. But I know he just wants to be a manly man and have the biggest dick in 'my dick is bigger than yours' conversations with other men for the rest of his life. Whatever. But seriously, I know he's sacrificing for us and doing his best to make sure we are happy and prosperous for the rest of our lives.

If he doesn't make it though, then I think we'll both just say 'fuck the Army' and get out and go have a normal civilian life. Which sounds appealing yet altogether foreign to me. I would hate to find out the saying about grass being greener on the other side is actually true.

My daughter thinks she's cooler than me.

And she probably will be, someday. But for now she needs proper training.

We were sitting on the couch watching Ratatouille, she on my lap leaning against my large belly while her baby brother shifted and kicked at her. I figured I was going to wait another half an hour or so before I put her down for a nap. She usually sleeps longer if I can push the nap to about 1:30pm. But she spontaneously slid off my lap, grabbed her favorite blanket and started to walk down the hall to her room without a word. But then she stopped about mid way and said, over her shoulder, 'See ya, bye'. And walked the rest of the way to her room and stood next to her crib.
So I laughed and put her in her bed and left it at that.

Kids these days.

I have it on good authority...

That we're all going down in flames. I'm one step away from draping a double sided sign-board over my shoulders and marching downtown to impose my vision on passersby.

Seriously though... Husband and I had a very strange experience yesterday morning, and I'm not referring to the fact that Gremlin slept in long enough for us to... ahem. Never mind. No, I'm referring to the moment when husband got out of bed to piss and paused in the doorway.

He turned around and looked at me as if he suddenly remembered something and said 'I had a really weird dream last night'.

I gave him a weird look from the side and said 'Me too.. really intense shit. What was yours?'

'I dreamt that we were attacked by nuclear bombs and the world was coming to an end and we were staying in a cabin in the woods at the time. We had to survive and fend for ourselves against crowds of savage, lone survivors.' My mouth was hanging wide open with shock and I thought he was playing a trick on me. 'What?'

'I had a post-Apocalypse dream last night, too.' And then we shared a moment where we both thought the other was bullshitting. Then we realized that it wasn't the case and proceeded to get the full on Heebyjeeby's.

We compared dreams for a little while and the coincidences were just freaky: We both saw ourselves living in a compound type establishment that we had to defend from other crazed survivors. In my dream we were in the desert (not the woods, which I think would have been much nicer). We had jeeps and we did patrols around our compound looking for anyone that would be a possible threat to our food and water rations. We had guns and lookouts were posted at all times. At one point in my dream I was walking through a major city and there were piles of dead bodies everywhere. The bodies were piled as high as some of the buildings and there was a sad, older man going around staking six-foot-tall crosses that he'd obviously made from debris in the surrounding area. It was his silent, morbid vigil. I stood and watched him stake a sharpened point of a guard rail into one pile of bodies leaving a towering metal cross against a smoky red sky.

It was one of those dreams that feels so real that when you wake up reality doesn't have quite the same affect as it once did. I had looked out the window from my bed and was confused by the clear sky and the sound of birds chirping in the trees. I could hear neighbors slamming car doors and starting their engines to go do normal things in a world untouched by the disaster that I had so recently experienced. I was relieved, yet it took moments before it all made sense again. The way Husband spoke of his haunting dream I suspect he had a similar experience. I had always thought all that stuff about 'anima' and 'animus' was probably bullshit, but maybe Jung was on to something.

Husband and I are not fanatical people by nature. We haven't watched any Apocalypse themed movies lately. And neither of us had even been thinking about end-times, that we know of. I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation for our coincidental dreams, but it still left both of us wanting to go out and pick up a couple assault rifles and case-loads of ammo. Husband is all for surviving some sort of earth destroying catastrophe: he thinks it would be cool to live in a 'you keep what you kill' world. He's a trained killer so he's pretty sure we could live like royalty. I personally like having electricity, but hey, I'm always up for a challenge. As long as any imminent doom holds off until I have this baby in the safety of a hospital I can take it from there.

Kudos to this guy:

Maybe I'll try flying with Southwest next time. We flew with Delta, and so has everyone else I've been talking with lately. Lots of bad reviews for Delta: missing connections, overbooking flights, stressed out and overworked flight attendants that have the crazy kind of smile that says 'I wish this plane would crash so that we could all go down in flames together'. They seem to be the cheapest option that shows up when you book online but the word is: you get what you pay for.