Dude, this is getting old really fast

See that lovely, large box of books on top of my washing machine?  It's not being staged or stored for a moment or anything like that.  It's being utilized.  You see, my 12 year-old washing machine decided that it just wouldn't drain without a little, um, encouragement.  The lid has to be "popped" down and then a heavy weight put on top to get the thing to do it's job through all the cycles.  We found our tool box too light for the job.  My sister and her handy-man husband found it hilarious that our wee box of books was heavier than the toolbox.  At any rate, short of me sitting on the thing to get the laundry done, I have to finesse it, a la Fonzie, then shove the box into just the right spot. 

My husband's not even gone right now, Gremlins! 

PCS? What PCS?

This summer will be my 10th move and 7th PCS in 12 years of marriage. So, you would think that I would have this whole moving business down to a science, or at least an art. Not so much. For one thing, my middle name might as well be Procrastination. And for another, life just manages to keep getting in the way.

3 weeks ago, my husband's parents came for a visit. Then the girls had Spring Break. Then my mother flew in for a visit. Just a week ago, I spent all day (literally) on a field trip with my 4th grader. We arrived at the school at 0530 and didn't get home until around midnight. The field trip involved a 4-hour bus ride...each way! Which wouldn't have been so bad. except the next day I drove 3 hours to see my sister and her family who were in the state to visit the Mouse for the first time. It was another 3-hour drive to get back home on Sunday night, after a full day with the cousins.

Yesterday, I suddenly realized that April was already half gone. I only have 2 more months to get ready for this move.

April is half gone! Oh, snap! I have a birthday party to plan and only have a couple of weeks to
do it! My youngest will be 6 the first week in May and has been talking about her party for months.

My only saving grace is that, somehow, everything always manages to get done. Maybe I'm just one of those people who needs a looming deadline to get myself in gear. This past week, I finally managed to take some pictures and start listing items online for sale. Even though I purge with every move, this move finds us with large items to unload. Furniture that is no longer needed, large toys that my kids have outgrown, and more all need to be purged before the movers arrive. And then there's all the organizing that needs to be done and the items we need to separate out that we'll pack ourselves or move ourselves. There are services and utilities that will need to be cancelled or shut off. Medical and dental records to be collected. School records to be copied. And a thousand and one other things to be done.

I think I need a nap....

*This is cross-posted on SpouseBuzz.

Monday, Monday

Good grief! Today when above and beyond as Mondays go:

• Drove to the dealership to sit for an hour so the new back to my driver's seat could be installed (see previous post). At least it was covered by the warranty.
• Have my first mammogram done. I'd been having some discomfort so the PA I saw last Friday wanted one done just as a precaution and because I'm of an age to get a baseline one done anyway. Yay. The most awkward moment had to be when the technician told me to remove the robe. Um. I can't just keep it on with the front open? Apparently not. The first two views (horizontal) she took weren't too bad although she wasn't kidding when she said, "Beginning compression." But I was not prepared for the vertical views that she then took. To her credit, she did warn me that they'd be more uncomfortable because muscle would also be, um, compressed.
  
• The 5 year old came home with a note saying that she'd received speech screening and needed further speech evaluation due to: "numerous articulation errors and poor speech intelligibility, very verbal." That last bit was followed by a smiley face. Never mind that my husband and I had raised these very issues with her teachers last fall during a parent-teacher conference. Oh, and yes, I know just how verbal she is since I often ask my husband to check if my ears are bleeding.
• The 9 year old continued to complain about her breathing (she'd been doing so all weekend). This prompted a call to the pediatricians' office. They got us in later this afternoon.
  
• We arrived 10 minutes early for the appointment because I'm well-trained by the military health care system. However, we weren't taken back to the exam room until almost 30 minutes after our appointment time where we waited another 30 minutes or more. The nurse practitioner we saw didn't hear anything untoward in her lungs but wanted a chest x-ray to be sure. He also prescribed an anti-reflux medication to try for the next couple of weeks to see if that's the problem. We're to go back in 2 weeks.
• The girls, especially the 5 year old have been bouncing off the walls and driving me insane for the past 1-1/2 hours spent at the pediatricians'.
  
• Leave the doctors' office. Look up the radiology place on my super-phone and call them to see about getting the chest x-ray. We can walk in anytime before 5:45 Monday thru Friday. It is already 5:15. Deciding we'll never make it and will have to wait until tomorrow, we stop at the pharmacy on the way home.
  
• Drop off the prescription for the anti-reflux stuff only to find he didn't put an amount on the scrip. Argh! And the office we JUST left is already closed. Somehow, while we waited, the pharmacist managed to get a message to the pediatricians' office and someone actually called back. Still, it took almost an hour to get the medication. Oh, and the girls continue to be squirrelly.
• Stretch won't be home until late tonight as he will be performing CACO duties again. It will be the first time he's had to this for someone deployed to Afghanistan. My heart goes out to his wife and parents who will be notified later tonight. Which really makes the rest of my day pale in comparison.
  

You know, I'm done with Monday. Let's move on to Tuesday.

Good thing L'il Sis is a toughie...

It's never a good thing to get a call from the school nurse. Especially as you're headed out the door to pick up the kids. Earlier this week, I had just such a call. Apparently, our 5 yr old had had an inauspicious meeting with a playground slide. Result: an abraded chin, bruised gums and loose front teeth. None of her teeth had been loose when I sent her to school that morning.

I picked her and her sister up from school and drove immediately to their dentist's office. She was x-rayed and examined and should be fine. In fact, her teeth already seem to have tightened up and no longer seem to be in danger of falling out of her head. But the whole time, I kept thinking 2 things: (1) this was very reminiscent of my sister with whom she shares more than a passing resemblance; and (2) these types of things always seem to happen to her and not her older sister. *sigh*

The Girls Night Out that wasn't

Following the kids' and my month-long trek across the southeastern corner of the U.S., I convinced our hostess at our last stop to follow us home. Her husband is gone for the summer and it kept our kids busy with each other. Plus, I selfishly wanted to spend more time with my friend whom I hadn't seen in almost 5 years.

On her last day here, Stretch called home in the morning and offered a Girls' Night Out (GNO) to us and promised to be home early enough to make it happen. I was ecstatic and looked forward to it all day. Since he would be clearly outnumbered by the 5 kids, I had dinner ready for them when he came home. Everything was set for us to get out of Dodge.

Because Stretch was parked behind me (and my vehicle was in the garage), we drove his vehicle. We drove away without a care in the world, trying to decide what we should do. We were positively giddy with the freedom of it all.

Then we made our first stop. It should have been a quick one. But when we returned to the car, it wouldn't start. Now this car is only 2-1/2 years old. We just replaced all 4 tires. And now it refused to start. We pulled out the owner's manual, trying to figure out what the problem was. We tried suggestions multiple times, in case we were doing something wrong. Nothing. Finally, we called Stretch. He and the kids were just finishing dinner. So he loaded them all up and drove to us. (We weren't far.)

After trying to jump the thing, we decided that I'd take the kids and my friend back to our house while Stretch continued to work on the car. Now, my friend and I hadn't eaten yet. So I started to heat up the remnants of dinner when we returned to the house. Before I'd gotten very far, Stretch called and wanted me to return with my car so we could try to jump his again.

Just before I pulled up, Stretch had dropped a tool in the engine. And it was stuck somewhere under the battery. That's about how the evening was going. After another jump attempt, Stretch decided to remove the battery and take it somewhere to test it. That's when he lost part of another tool. This time in the back of his car.

He took me back to the house, picked up more tools and returned to pry the battery out of his car. About an hour later, Stretch called again to say he was on his way to pick me up so we could retrieve his car. Apparently, the battery had to be replaced.

So Stretch got kudos for wanting to give us a GNO. But the gremlins got the last laugh (Hello! He's not even gone this time!)

It must be Monday...

... or Another Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day...

I thought I was starting the day out well. After taking Big Sis to school, L'il Sis and I returned home where I replaced a couple of dead plants with live ones in front of our house. Then, we headed out to the neighborhood clubhouse and it's workout room. I hadn't darkened it's doors in quite awhile so it was a momentous occasion for me. So far, so good. Right?

Not so fast. Things started heading south in the afternoon. Here are just the highlights: I discovered the transponder that gets my car in the gates of our neighborhood wasn't working. Hmm. Then I found out it was because our landlord had neglected to tell the HOA that we had renewed our lease. Deep breath.

While reviewing our travel plans for the next month, I discovered I'd signed the girls up for the wrong week of VBS. Hopefully, I can get this changed. Otherwise, my drive across country with the girls will be anything but leisurely (which was the original plan... slow and leisurely, dammit!).

Then, I took L'il Sis to her last dance class, which is already fraught with stress because the recital is next weekend and these little girls really don't know this dance. But today, L'il Sis managed to get her hand squashed in a door right before her class started. So she was crying. (Justifiably so.) One mom ran out to her car to get a cold bottle of water. We held that against her fingers for a bit. Her fingers looked to be fine but I'm sure they hurt like the dickens. Then the dance teacher came back with some ice. L'il Sis really needed to learn this dance, so I convinced her to go into the room to at least watch the other girls. She eventually joined the class but not until more than half-way thru the class. I still had to sit on the floor of the class, though, and couldn't go back to the lobby area with the other moms. Stretch came by, picked up Big Sis and went in search of dinner. Because at this point, obviously, my plan of dropping L'il Sis off at the studio, going back home to make dinner, and then having one of us pick her up was not only shot, it was dead in the water. [Oh, the fingers were just fine. At the end of the class, they turned off the regular lights and turned on the colored stage lights and L'il Sis perked right up.]

By this point, I was feeling more than a little frustrated. Then Stretch and Big Sis got home with dinner. Fast food. But, wait, was that a salad by my place? Not just a salad. It was my favorite Oriental Chicken Salad (not from the same place as they'd gotten their dinners). He even noticed that I'd started ordering it with grilled chicken. He'd made a special trip to get my salad because he felt bad for the day I'd had. Oh, and because he loves me. Yes, I'm lucky to have him.

Maybe I won't move to Australia after all. They have bad days there, too.

Memorial Day weekend

I know this is late, but it was a difficult post to write and I'm still not too sure if I should post it.

It was Memorial Day weekend and it seemed a fitting time to finally sit down and watch Taking Chance, the HBO movie based on LtCol Mike Strobl's story of escorting a fallen Marine PFC Chance Phelps to his home. I remember reading the story written by LtCol Strobl some time ago and crying as I read. That was nothing to the tears I shed watching the movie. Great minds think alike and I noticed that Amy at The Fourth Frog had done the same. She has a great post over there about the film so I'll try not repeat what she's already said.

There were a few reasons I wanted to see Taking Chance. A few months ago, I'd finally read Final Salute: A Story of Unfinished Lives by Jim Sheeler. Although I could barely go a page without having to stop because I couldn't see through my tears, it was hard to put down. As I mentioned, I had read the original article by LtCol Strobl. When I heard that HBO had adapted the story into a film, I wanted to see it but it took me awhile to work up to it. And there was the fact that Chance Phelps died while serving with 3/11, a unit Stretch served in and deployed with in 2003.

One thing I noticed was how well Kevin Bacon portrayed the discomfort so many Marines (and I'm sure other service members) feel when thanked for their service. Sometimes, as in Strobl's case, it is caused by feeling they are not participating in the "real work" of the Marine Corps. This is the way they feel, rightly or wrongly. I know this because I live with someone who, despite 2 tours in the sandbox, still feels that way. In any case, some of the discomfiture is caused by not really knowing how to respond. That's not to say that hearing the thank-you's are unappreciated.

We watched the film with Big Sis, who is 8-1/2 years old. That might seem a bit young to watch this film but we wanted her to see the impact of one Marine's death, even on people who didn't know him. She has struggled with Stretch's career lately. The year-long deployment (Feb. 2007 --2008) and the move to yet another home and school really caught up to us this past year. In the midst of tantrums, she has said things like she wished Stretch had died in a battle. (Which is pretty darn specific, if you ask me!) While we had tried to paint a picture for her of what her life might be like now if that had happened, we could never really be sure if we were getting through to her. And before any comments suggest it, she is seeing a counselor. Much like her parents, (okay, her mom) Big Sis didn't say much after the movie was over and tried to act like she wasn't affected. But she wanted to see a lot of the special features on the DVD. And a day later, she and her sister were playing and the name Chance seemed to figure in the game. I'm hoping that something got through to her.

Update: I saw this about a medically retired Recon Marine and wanted to share. It's a bit long but worth it. I saw a name at the end that I knew and that always brings it home even more. By the way, according to SemperFiWife over at SpouseBuzz, Derek Zeier finished the 100 mile ultramarathon in 31 hours, 03 minutes and 21 seconds. And he wasn't supposed to be able to walk without the assistance of a cane?

chasing zits

It's bad enough that I have to battle both wrinkles AND acne at the same time. Now, it seems the zits have developed a mind of their own. I started using a zit zapper a few month ago and, for the most part, it seems to work pretty well. At least, it seems to stop them in their tracks and shorten their lifespans.

A few days ago, I started treating a spot that looked as if it could go on to become a zit-zilla if left to its own devices. The zapper did its job and that particular spot stopped growing and started shrinking. But tonight I found its clone near my nose. I can almost hear the evil laughter, "Ha ha! You thought you stopped me! But I cannot be contained. Resistance is futile!" I still used the zapper and now I'm waiting to see where the zits will strike next.

*I should clarify that the "zapper" I use is an OTC gel.

bugger!

I was shopping in one of those huge warehouse stores earlier today when I felt a tug on my shoe. I thought I'd stepped in something sticky (and I might have). But as I kept walking something just didn't feel right. I'd managed to break my shoe. Of course, I was at the back of the store when it happened. It wasn't a huge deal. The strap that went behind my heel had broken. But it was still a bit uncomfortable to walk around like that. Especially when the strap kept getting under my foot as I hobbled to the front to pay. I think my jeans were long enough that no one else noticed.


So, of course, my next stop was to pick up a cute pair of sandals that I'd noticed the day before but had talked myself out of buying. 'Cause I needed replacement shoes, of course! It was a sign. I'm sure of it!

week 2 of basketball and the shoe quest

Stretch left the state in the early hours of the morning (oh-dark thirty to the fellow milspouses out there) so I was solo-parenting today for the basketball game.

But first... we had to get new sneakers for Big Sis. *sigh*

I really hate shopping for anything that child has to wear. Really. It's no fun for anyone. I made Stretch go with us for the first 2 forays. Last Monday it resulted in Big Sis throwing herself onto the floor of a shoe store in the beginnings of a tantrum. She's 8. I thought it was a bit much. The 2nd try was yesterday. Right after school, we met Stretch and L'il Sis at the mall. We actually ended up buying a pair but that also led to much gnashing of teeth, etc. So this morning, much against my better judgment, I took her to another discount chain (that didn't go at all well) and then after lunch I spotted a small mom-and-pop type shoe store where the proprietor was apparently retiring. We actually found a pair of sneakers there that made her (somewhat) happy. I made her wear them out of the store and threw the disintegrating and stinky pair of not-really-sneakers-more-of-a-casual-shoes away.

Then it was time for the game. Did I mention I was doing all this solo today? L'il Sis was hyper. Dang! I knew I shouldn't have fed her! (that's a bit of sarcasm before you go off and report me) Thankfully, the church's gym lets out onto a playground that only has 2 outlets, only one of which was open during the game (the gym door) so she spent some time out there when she wasn't inside inhaling popcorn.

I was really proud of Big Sis and her team. They were down 8-20 at half-time but came back to tie the game at 28-28. By the end of the game, Big Sis' cheeks were rosy and she was so sweaty that her hair was dripping. She received the gold star for Sportsmanship but told her coach they needed a new color for Sweatiest! I think next week I need to remember to take a bottle of water for her to keep on the bench and a hand towel for her dry off!

and the hits keep coming...

Today, I had a dental appointment. My first since moving here. I should probably mention that I hate going to the dentist. I've gotten better about it but I still really HATE it. So I went to the dentist's office. For the most part, it was a relatively okay experience. Until the dentist started trying to sell me on (1) either getting braces or veneers (okay, my teeth aren't perfectly straight but I've gone this long and it's never bothered me); and (2) getting my teeth whitened.

Wow! I had no idea I was such a huge mess. Yes, I often go without make-up and have no clue what to do with my hair. And I'll admit that my wardrobe is severely lacking in anything remotely stylish, consisting as it does mostly of comfortable "mommy" gear. But still... I didn't realize that I needed to start wearing a bag over my head!

Then to add insult to injury, I'm told that to get my 2 wisdom teeth removed it will cost $900 (which I will have to pay upfront) and my insurance only covers $216. Oh, and the teeth whitening, which isn't covered at all, costs $550. (No costs were given for orthodontia.) All in all, I think the bag will be cheaper.

update: I guess I should mention that I have no intention of getting braces or having my teeth whitened. I might be in denial but I just don't think they are as bad as all that! At least, I don't seem to scare small children and no one has running screaming from me except my own children and I don't think they did so because of my mishapen and discolored teeth. (that's sarcasm, by the way)

Oh, now what?!

Yesterday seemed to be one frustration after another. The light on the dashboard that had appeared the day before had decided to stick around, meaning I was going to have to do something about it. I thought I knew what it meant but checked the owner's manual to double-check. I was right: one of my tires needed air. Sounds simple. heh

So, I needed to put air in a tire. I also needed to buy cookies for my daughter's class party. I was supposed to send them in that morning but since I didn't remember until after the girls were in bed and there wasn't another adult around, I couldn't get them until yesterday. After dropping Big Sis off, L'il Sis and I headed to a nearby grocery store. I needed plain cookies that the kids could then decorate during their party on Friday. There were no plain cookies.

Later, we tried a warehouse store. Again, no plain cookies. Also no air at their gas station. Off to a super discount store. There was a gas station in front of it and it had air. But charged $0.75 for it. Guess who didn't have any change?

Finally found the cookies. Yay!

Went home. Fed L'il Sis. Cleaned breakfast area so I could set up the sewing machine. (I should mention here that I don't sew.) I'd cut out fabric the day before to make a cape for the girls. The plan was to put it together that day. By the time I had everything out and put together, it was time to go get Big Sis.

While picking up Big Sis, I notice that there is a sizable hole in one of my fog lights on the car. But I don't remember this happening and can't figure out where or how it happened.

After we got back, I tackled getting the needle threaded and starting the project. It took me about 30 minutes before the first stitch was made. (Have I mentioned I don't sew?) The sad part is I brought this project on myself. I looked at the pattern in the store (it was marked as an "easy" project) and actually thought, "how hard can it me?" Pretty darn hard, it turns out, if you don't sew!

I managed to get most of the pieces put together. It wasn't beautiful. But by then I was subscribing to the "close enough for government work" theory of doing business. (There is a reason I don't sew!) It was time for dinner but I still had a few things to do with the sewing machine. So I left everything where it was and took the kids out for dinner. On the way back, I remembered I still needed air for the tire. Found a gas station that had free air and (hopefully) fixed the situation. At any rate, the light went off.

After getting home and getting ready for bed, L'il Sis picked Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst for her story. How appropriate. \

Maybe I should move to Australia? Oh, wait, they're moving into summer there and we're finally moving out of it here. Never mind.

storm update and creepy crawly question

Although Fay is still hovering over Florida, we missed the brunt of it. Monday night was probably the worst in our area. Ironically, the tree in our front yard didn't fall over until the next night. Yesterday, some guys came by to right it and stake it for support. But the ground is still so soggy that a couple of hours later, it was already leaning almost 45 degrees again. Guess I will be calling and asking them to come back and do it again.

Now,for the creepy crawly question. Does anyone know what kind of spider this is? It's made a home outside our breakfast area. Then Stretch made the mistake of dubbing it "Homer" so the kids refer to it as a pet of sorts. The problem is I haven't been able to identify it or whether it's poisonous. We just don't go out to the patio right now. It's hard to tell in the picture, but Homer is BIG. So, if anyone knows what this is, I'd love to know, too!

I needed a laugh and this is what I got:

Stretch is due to leave for a trip this week. And we have Tropical Storm/Hurricane Fay bearing down on us. Yep, that sounds about right. I couldn't help but think of the story in Household Baggage Handlers about the woman and her daughters surviving a tornado in Oklahoma while her husband and the planes were taken out of the danger zone. She noted the irony of the women and children being left behind.

So anyway, we've got Fay heading our way. My sister pointed out that we've survived tornadoes, earthquakes, monsoons and now this. What's next? A plague of locusts? Oh, wait, do the crickets that seemed to be everywhere in 29 Palms count? They're not exactly locusts, but let's check that one off, too.

peeking into the civilian world...

Our next duty station is in the civilian world. So despite being in a large metropolitan area, it feels like we're going to a remote location. No commissary. No military hospital or military doctors. None of the usual groups and services that I usually just take for granted: Spouses' groups, LINKS, base childcare, base chapel (I secretly like them because I know everyone there "gets" it), oh the list could go on forever. So, as you can see, I'm a bit nervous of leaving the safe harbor of military living and making this initial foray into civilian living.

Well, let me tell you, my recent house-hunting trip did very little to allay those nerves! I spent almost a week (and let's not talk about how much money) going to the area with my mother-in-law and looked for rental property. It was incredible frustrating. My first choice, while not ideal was in a great school district, had a grumpy landlord and/or property manager who refused to do basic things to make the house fit to live in. So cross that one off. My second choice wouldn't come down on the rent (I didn't really expect them to) so cross that one off. My third choice... well, I thought it was decent compromise of the things we were looking for and, at first blush, the landlord seemed great and accommodating. We signed a rental contract and I handed over a deposit check and a check for the first month's rent. And I returned home.

The following week, the lease was faxed to me for approval. I could feel my blood pressure rising as I read through it. Stretch probably thought I was going to have a stroke as I kept saying things like, "No! Um, no! What?! Is he crazy?" Bottom line: the lease didn't come close to resembling the terms of the rental contract. For starters, deposit and rent amounts had been increased. The military clause had been left out. And from what was written, it appeared the landlord intended to return very little of the security deposit. After going "high and to the right," I calmed down and put on my lawyer hat. I emailed my realtor with a list of why I viewed the landlord as being in breach of contract and gave examples of him showing bad faith (one example was he'd cashed the rent check despite not having a signed lease!) and expressed the need to have all money returned to us immediately. (We did eventually get our money back, by the way.)

So what did I have to show for my week in the area? Lots of stress (and physical manifestations of that stress) and we STILL don't have a home.

Tired

I know postings have been few and far between lately. This past week, we had my 2 youngest nephews here for the week (newly minted 3 year old and 14 month old). While they were fine, having 4 kids in the house was exhausting. I don't know how my sister does it every day! (She has 2 older ones who were farmed out elsewhere.) It certainly drove home the point to both Stretch and me that we are so done in the procreation department!

The boys left today. Later this evening, my mother-in-law is coming so she can watch our girls for the next week. Stretch and I will be away attending classes. A couple of weeks after that, we will all be gone for 2 weeks to visit my mother and stepfather while Stretch takes another class. Then there will be house hunting (heh heh, Stretch is staying here with the kids while I go! heh heh). And Stretch has yet another class. Then we'll PCS.

So... no promises on regularity of postings. It will be very hit or miss here for the next few months.

I'm starting to hear the fat lady whisper

We finally have a window! (in a sing-song voice) We have a window! We have a window!

The mil-spouses will know what I mean. I now have a period of a few days in which to expect Stretch home sometime within that time. And for you non-mil-spouses, yes, it really does help cut down on the uncertainty.

Even better, I was actually right (after some recent recalculating) about when the window will be. Hm-m, I might actually be getting the hang of this being married to a Marine business. It's only taken about 10 years.

Actually, I take that back. I haven't done anything to get ready for reunion yet. I don't even have anything to make a sign with yet. Are yellow ribbons and balloons too minimalistic? I might be able to pull that off. I'm not usually this unorganized. Really!

where's that fat lady?

Over at SpouseBuzz, Andi wrote about her misadventures in trying to pamper her husband and unleashing her inner domestic goddess. I can remember various reunions where I rehearsed our reunion, planned out menus and scrubbed the house. This time, not so much. I haven't planned for a single dish, let alone an entire meal for Stretch's return. In fact, I can't seem to really accept that he is coming home. It just doesn't seem real yet. We have only a matter of days and weeks left and I'm almost in denial about our reunion. Obviously, I want Stretch home. But I'm nervous, too. Other than his R&R, we've spent almost a year apart. We've both changed. The kids have changed.

Plus, I've been doing everything around here. While that sucked, it also meant that everything was done MY way. (hmm, I don't have any control issues or anything) It also meant if something didn't get done, I had no one else to blame. But soon, Stretch will be here. He'll do things his way. And I'll have to remember that it's okay. I'll have to learn to let go and to share again. Not just the little things like the remote, but the big things like parenting, too.

The thing is that reunion still seems so far off. (I know it's not.) It isn't "real" yet. They say it isn't over until the fat lady sings and, so far, I haven't heard her singing.

more gremlins

Deployment gremlins strike again! It seems a power surge killed our TV. The one we bought during our recent tour in Korea. It's a cute little flat-screen. So I called the insurance company (yay for renter's insurance!) to see what I needed to do. Following their instructions, I hopped on LG's website to find the nearest authorized technician to look at the corpse. Turns it out there is only one in the state and it is a mere 4 HOURS away. Yeah, that works for me. In some alternate universe, maybe.

Meanwhile, I borrowed some one's husband for the brawn to move our old boxy TV from upstairs to the living room (where the corpse resided). See? I can so ask for help! Okay, maybe it was the vision of me dropping the TV down the stairs, me falling down the stairs, etc., that prompted me to go elsewhere for the muscle power. Just slightly ironic that we were just talking about asking for help over on SpouseBuzz Radio the other night.

When it rains...

A couple of months ago, we had a heavy rainstorm. The next morning, I found that our back wall was literally crumbling away. I contacted the maintenance department (we live in privatized base housing). Several people came by to look at it over the next several weeks (yes, I said "weeks" not "days"), including 2 different sub-contractors. After over 3 weeks of this, I was pretty fed up and physically went to the leasing office. While I was there, they were trying to reach me because the contractor was at my house to do the repairs. No one had bothered to tell me they were coming! So the repairs were made and completed just in time for in-laws to visit. They finished the work in the afternoon. My in-laws arrived at dinner-time. Let's not cut it too close, guys. This wouldn't have been a sticking point except the guest room is right across the hall from the door in the picture!

By the way, the first picture is the baseboard on the wall that needed replacing. See that huge hole in it? I was told they would fix that by filling it with caulk. I replied that wasn't going to do it for me and that the baseboard needed replacing. I said this to at least 2 men. I got another baseboard.

So contractors fixed our back wall near the back door (inside and out) as well as the roof a couple of weeks ago. Well, it rained yesterday. Hard. There was a waterfall where our backdoor is supposed to be. See the picture.


Then the windowsill was completely wet. I took pictures to document it all. Then I printed the pictures and took them down to the leasing office this morning. The ladies there were pretty aghast at the sight. Especially since they knew this was an ongoing problem. One of them remembered me from the last time I was in there about the wall. So, around noon, 2 of the ladies from the leasing office, the work order manager, the area maintenance supervisor, and the contractor all converged on our house to see and discuss.

Later, a maintenance man brought a dehumidifier that is now plugged in and draining into the downstairs shower. It is currently blocking the back door. Hopefully, it will only be here for a couple of days. He also fixed the powder room toilet (again). And looked at the cracked stair (again) and will be ordering a replacement. When that gets here, he'll replace the stair and caulk the others. Is caulk the new duct tape?!

The contractor is supposed to call me tomorrow to let me know when they will be back to do yet more work on the roof and back wall area (on the outside this time). If I don't get that call, I can assure you that I will be making some phone calls of my own! Hell hath no fury as a milspouse in an unsat house with small children and a deployed husband.

I joke that the house is falling down around my ears but sometimes I wonder if the joke isn't on me! But then, hubs is deployed, so, OF COURSE, all this is happening. See all the fun he's missing?