the confidence of being 4...

When I compliment L'il Sis (whether it's telling her she's smart, pretty, sweet or anything else), her response is often, "I know."





Update: This is a picture from L'il Sis' preschool outing to the pumpkin patch at our church (it's also where her preschool is). The scarecrow gave them their mini pumpkins and then they each got to buy a slightly larger pumpkin.

Relocation bonus

Today, I managed to find a benefit to our new home. I had a doctor's appointment, my first since moving here. And you know what? I saw an actual, honest-to-God doctor! And that wasn't all. She actually took the time to listen to me, ask questions, make suggestions, and discuss what the next few steps should be. I was floored and left her office with a positive feeling. It's been a long time since I actually liked the person responsible for my health care. Too long.

Now for the back story. The last 2 duty stations we were at, my PCM (primary care manager) was a nurse practitioner. In theory, I don't have a problem with this unless I have a serious illness but I'm generally pretty healthy. I said in theory. Because I'm sure there are some wonderful nurse practitioners out there. I just wouldn't count the 2 I had as being among them. Both were extremely condescending and dismissive toward me. And for those of you who know me personally, you know how much I hate that! Every time it happened, I wanted to scream at those women that I probably had more education and a higher IQ than they did so they should stop treating me like an idiot and just listen to my concerns for 2 minutes.

3 tours back, the doctor I saw the most was an OB (it was when I was having L'il Sis). We were at a duty station where we saw civilian doctors. And although the OB wasn't my PCM, she was who I saw most of the time due to the situation and short time we were there. I wasn't an interesting enough case for the her though, so more often than not, she was out of the exam room practically before I had a chance to open my mouth to ask a question.

So you can see why I'm so appreciative to have gotten lucky this go-round. It was about time!

Holy smokes! It's a miracle!

Last night, L'il Sis not only stayed in her bed all night, but she managed to actually sleep all night. She did not wake up and then wake me up with screaming or crying or room invasion. I put her to bed last night ONE time. She stayed in her bed without getting up for her usual wander-around-for-a-bit routine. (She always has some reason for it: bathroom, water, needing a hug) There was no 3 a.m. wake-up call. When I woke up this morning, there was no pint-sized visitor laying next to me. She was still fast asleep in her own room! Yes!

I know she's had a rough year and a half between 2 moves and the deployment in between. But believe me, the no-sleep thing has been rough on me, too!

I woke up in a much better mood than usual this morning. And I'm keeping my fingers crossed that this is the beginning of a trend and not just a fluke!

the gremlins are back

True to form, Stretch is gone so the gremlins have come to play. It's not a good thing to find your FREEZER dripping with water. It was everywhere...

So, now, instead of getting out of the house to do something fun with the girls, we're sitting in the house waiting for a repairman who will be here sometime between "now (it was 11 a.m. at the time) and 3" p.m. What a way to spend a beautiful Saturday.

Hmph.

Update: By 3 p.m., there was still no sign of a repairman. So I called the company our landlord has contracted for these issues. The snotty girl on the other end of the line said they'd called and left a message indicating that he was running late. Um, no, since I've been home ALL DAY and no one called and there were no messages on our voicemail. I asked what number they'd called. It was completely unfamiliar and probably either belonged to our landlord or the previous tenant. The other number they had was Stretch's cell phone (yes, the same Stretch who is in another state for the month). Then she offered to delete Stretch's number (which they also had not called) from their database. WHAT?! Oh, wait, of course, because it would be SO helpful to delete the ONE phone number with which you'd have any chance of reaching the actual occupants of the house.

Seriously, I can't stand idiots or people who waste my time. Oh, and the repairman finally showed around 4 p.m., spent about 5 minutes replacing a part and declared the fridge fixed.

more insurance, please?

Stretch and I have a running joke about insurance. When I feel like he's not taking good care of himself, I'll often tell him he needs to buy more insurance. It's a choice: take care of yourself so you'll live longer or get more insurance. (It should go without saying that I'd rather have him around than the money.)

Currently, Stretch is attending something where injury is a possibility. Hopefully, it isn't a probability. Every evening he calls and tells me about his aches and pains. He's using the heating pad and soaking in boiling hot baths. I think he should find a sports masseuse where he is, too.

(tongue firmly in cheek) Is it wrong that I'm also wondering if he has enough insurance?

On not cooking

The night before Stretch left, I made a "real" meal. We had steaks and I remarked that it would probably be the last time I cooked until next month. A few days later, he asked what we were having for dinner. By then, we'd had leftovers and pizza and I was considering takeout and pancakes as options. He laughed. He brought up what I'd said about not cooking while he's gone. Did he think I was kidding?

The problem with cooking is that the kids almost never appreciate it. Yes, there are occasional meals and certain dishes that they really enjoy. But I don't want to spend the time and effort to make a nice dinner, clean it all up, and have 2 kids not eat it or have to spend the entire meal saying, "Take a bite." It's just too frustrating. When Stretch was gone for the year, I cooked "real" dinners 2 or 3 times a week. But he's only gone a few weeks this time. So I'm making the executive decision to give myself a break. Over the weekend, I ordered Chinese takeout. Big Sis turned her nose up at it (except the rice, she took half the rice). But L'il Sis tried the egg drop soup and LOVED it. The next night she asked if we could have Chinese food again.

Besides, there are a lot of meals that don't require "real" cooking. Last night we had pancakes. Made from a mix. I don't consider this cooking. But L'il Sis was delighted. Tonight I threw some canned rolls into the oven and emptied a frozen meal in a bag into a skillet. Again, I don't consider this cooking. It's more heating. We'd had this particular meal once before while Stretch was still home. L'il Sis greeted the pasta dish with this: "Dee-licious! I can't stop eating it!" Considering the usual response that I get from her ("Yuck! I'm not eating THAT!"), it's not inspiring me to actually do much "real" cooking this month.

Missing Daddy?

Stretch left here Wednesday morning after dropping Big Sis off at school. Three days later, on Saturday morning, Big Sis asked, "Where is Daddy exactly?"

She understood he'd be gone all month and has been good about trying to explain that to L'il Sis who just doesn't get it. L'il Sis keeps thinking he's coming home or asking if we're going to go pick him up. But still, I wonder about Big Sis' lack of curiosity for 3 days. Of course, this is the same child who once told Stretch when he'd asked her if she missed him shortly after leaving on a trip, "Not really. It's only been a day. That's not long enough to miss you yet." Ouch.

Flying Solo

I'm doing it again. Being a married single parent. The good part is that it's only until the end of the month this time. Much better than a year, let me tell you! 3 weeks should be a snap. Yeah, right.

Actually, so far so good. Despite 2 of us not feeling our best, the first couple of days have been decent. L'il Sis didn't stay in her own bed again last night, but then she almost never does, so it wasn't a huge surprise.

Big Sis had the day off from school today. So when she came downstairs and wanted to cuddle and watch TV after she was supposed to be in bed, I let her stay up a little later than usual. Besides, I have to get my cuddles with her when I can! She is much more reserved than her sister with affection so I take what I can get.

This morning, after dropping L'il Sis at preschool (and staying for their 1st chapel time), Big Sis and I went to Wal-Mart so she could start spending some of her birthday gift money. There's no denying she is Stretch's and my child: After picking out thank-you cards, she headed straight to the book section and picked out about $25 in books to spend her money on. She never even asked to go to the toy section (and, no, I didn't suggest it). After that, she wanted to go straight home to read her new books. Although I'm not sure why since she started reading them in the car!

Hmm, about 3 more weeks... Can a person completely forget how to cook in that time?

Big Sis

8 Years ago...

She always did have long legs like her daddy...

The birthday girl today...

Mission Impossible

I honestly thought it would be a simple and quick errand. After school, Friday we would head over to C Creamery and order Big Sis' ice cream birthday cake for Monday. (That's what she asked for this year.) They were supposed to open at 1 p.m. but there was a sign on the door apologizing for the inconvenience and stating they would be open tomorrow. Hmm, now what? Oh, wait, there's a BR across the street and they have ice cream cakes! L'il Sis falls asleep just as we pull into the parking lot. No problem, I'll just have to carry her. In we go and peruse their cake book. Jackpot! They have a Spirit cake (the Disney horse) and Big Sis wants a horse on her cake because she is turning 8 and is completely horse crazy. But wait! You have to order these cakes a WEEK in advance. Well, that won't work since we need it in 3 days. Hmm.

I keep a small phonebook in my car and start looking through it frantically after we're in the car again. A DQ! But where is it? I think I can find it and we go looking for it. We can order a cake and they can draw a horse on it. Big Sis doesn't look thrilled but says she wants it. We order it but as soon as we're out the door (not even in the parking lot yet) she admits she really wants the Spirit horse figurines on her cake. So we go back in and cancel the order.

Then we have a little discussion that maybe she'll have to settle for a regular cake and not an ice cream cake. She is fine with this as long as Spirit and his companion are on the cake. So we try P grocery store (#1). No horse cakes. We go another grocery chain. Again, no horse cakes. How is this possible? We live in horse country!

We give up for the day and decide to try again on Saturday. The monsoon moves in before dawn on Saturday. And stays all day. By 11 a.m. I've decided, there's nothing else for it but we're going to have to go out in it. The girls don their raincoats while I take the closest thing I have (a windbreaker that's not quite up to the task). Our first stop is Wally World. I think we've hit paydirt. There is a cake with horses on it. It's not exactly Spirit but pretty darn close. But we celebrate too soon. They are out of that cake topper. Of course they are!

So then I change my paradigm once more. Maybe I can find the cake topper at a party or craft store and mommy will just make the cake. It wouldn't be the first time. I'm even willing to try drawing a horse on a cake at this point but she's not happy with that option. So we go to a party store. Half the store is taken over by Halloween costumes and paraphernalia. No luck with Spirit or any horse related items, unless you want to count My Little Pony, which Big Sis didn't. So we tried the craft store. Again, no luck.

At this point, I need sustenance. So we stop for lunch. By the way, it has been raining steadily the whole time. Occasionally it slows, but never stops.

After lunch, we try the creamery that we started with yesterday because they are supposed to be open today. False advertising. They are still closed. They still promise to be open tomorrow. But another super discount store is nearby so we go there. By now, the rain really is at monsoon strength. It is pouring and there is no such thing as a close parking spot. I park and grab the kids and the umbrella and make our way inside. We slip and slide our way to the bakery section but find no joy. On the way out, there is certain ubiquitous coffee shop. I'm sorely tempted to get a latte or machiatto or something. But I can't figure out how to hold onto L'il Sis, my car keys, the umbrella and a hot beverage while battling the monsoon back out to the car. Oh, well, I didn't need the calories anyway. By the time, we make it back into the car, the back of my pants are soaked. It's oh-so-comfortable.

We are across the street from BR so I think, "Well, maybe I can simply buy the cake topper from them. Although probably not b/c I don't think the cakes are made on site, but whatever, I'm desperate so let's try." The almost-human teenage boy working the counter didn't think it was possible. At least, that's what I think his grunts meant. I was too irritated to think about asking for a manager at this point. We pile back into the car. Have I mentioned that I'm now sitting in wet denim?

We go to P grocery store (#2). Still no horses but Big Sis decides she can live without them (she hopes for better luck next year) and decides on another design. The good news? It will be an ice cream cake, after all.

The worst part about the whole ordeal was that Big Sis kept apologizing, saying it was her fault that she'd picked such a hard cake to find. I felt bad enough as it was without her feeling bad, too. I kept trying to tell her it wasn't her fault at all. If it was anyone's fault, it was mine for waiting to place an order. But I honestly didn't think it would be such an ordeal. From a simple errand to practically the quest for the holy grail! Who knew it would take 12 stops and 2 days to accomplish the mission of ordering a cake?

3rd grade math...

...has changed, people! The other day Big Sis' math homework started with 4 word problems. Okay, I had word problems in 3rd grade. (I think, after all, it's been a long time!) But these word problems seem to require algebra to solve. Or at least that's the only way I could solve them! Example: What two numbers have a sum of 39 and a difference of 11?

So, I did the only thing I could think to do. I sat there and tried to teach my not-quite-8-year-old some algebra, complete with x's and y's. She didn't much like having letters mixed up in her math. Can't say I blamed her. Where was her engineer-degreed father when we needed him?!

UPDATE: Thanks for the comments explaining the mysterious workings of 3rd grade math. How sad that I needed them! Of course, I wouldn't have needed them had the teacher bothered to send something home stating that's how those problem should be solved! But I digress. I still think it would make more sense to simply give them drill or practice sheets if they need to practice adding and subtracting (and believe me, they do!). Why go about it in such a round-about way? It seems inefficient and confusing to the kids (and parents!). If kids are struggling with math, this is not going to make them feel any better about the subject.

high praise

Cooking for my kids is so disheartening it might even give Rachel Ray pause. Seriously. Almost every dinner I make is greeted with "Yuck!" or "Eww!" or "I don't want to eat that!" It doesn't matter what it is or what it actually tastes like. Not to toot my own horn, but most of the time it is pretty good or, at least, edible.

This morning I made French toast for breakfast. I don't usually cook for breakfast so it should be considered a special treat. You'd think. Not so much. The oldest said she didn't want any. The youngest embraced them wholeheartedly. But she was hungry and fixated on the strawberries I promised her would go with them. I told Big Sis she couldn't have her "usual." (She puts frozen Chocolate Chip Eggo waffles into the toaster every morning before school, making her own breakfast.) Reluctantly, she sat down and inhaled her breakfast. But wouldn't admit to liking it. For some reason, she never remembers that this is a breakfast dish she actually likes. But L'il Sis sat next to her, eating and making appreciative noises. Then she turns to her big sister and says, "See. It's not so bad."

High praise, indeed.

Not exactly mother of the year

My friend Jody comes up with the best kid-parties. Her latest effort was a Jungle theme for her newly minted 5 year old. She managed to pull off another great party for her eldest shortly after moving into a new house in a new state. I have got to find a way to live in the same town as this woman, or at least within a couple of hours drive-time. Seriously. My poor kids have been short-changed this year. L'il Sis got a "family" party when she turned 4 in May and cupcakes taken to her preschool. Big Sis got a family outing for horseback riding last weekend (more on that later) and we'll celebrate as a family next week. And that's it. No parties. No themes. *sigh* Maybe I'll do better next year. Maybe I can talk Jody into coming down and party-planning for them...

Getaway

Thanks to my wonderful mother-in-law, I was able to go on a business trip with Stretch last week. I had one day of "classes" or conference and then the rest of the time was mine to catch up with friends and family. Stretch spent almost his entire time there experiencing death by PowerPoint. When one particular day ran long, I received a text message, "Just shoot me now."

For the 3rd time, I participated in a Four Lenses temperament class. Not too surprisingly, my personality or temperament hadn't changed, it only became more entrenched in what it already was. There actually are benefits to doing this more than once. I take something different away each time, but I do wish the presenters would recognize that some of us have done this before, thereby enabling a broader use of the training. For those of you who have done this, I am a green (one of only 2 in a room of 27 women at this conference). We are a rare breed and like it that way!

One of the highlights of the week was getting to spend almost all day Sunday with my college roommate. She was sweet enough to drive the 2+ hours to where I was since I had no transportation. It was nice to just get to hang out again without children and without a schedule to keep. We lived together for 5 years so we'd done our fair share of just hanging out in our youth.

Then, my mother and stepfather drove in from out of state for a couple of days. We shopped and ate Korean food. We even introduced a buddy of Stretch's to Korean food. This was challenging because we found out minutes before leaving for dinner that he had a sesame allergy. Seriously? Do you have any idea how integral sesame oil and sesame seeds are to Korean cooking?! Somehow we managed to feed everyone and no one went into anaphylactic shock.

I also ran into a couple of other Marine wives and had a great opportunity to catch up. A few of us even managed to go exploring and have lunch my last day there. It was a restful trip for me. One I'd needed.

go vote

Get the Gouge is currently running a funniest military story essay contest. Voting starts today and ends Sept. 30. If you feel so inclined, head over there and vote. And I'm not just saying that because I have a story up for the contest. (Mine is the one that combines lactation and the Navy.)

Update: They seem to have had a glitch in the voting. If you've already voted, please go back and cast your vote again. If you haven't already voted, click on the link above, select your favorite essay from those listed on the right sidebar and click on "vote."

I'm back

I know postings have been sparse lately. I just got back from a trip with Stretch but the natives are getting restless downstairs so I'll have to fill you in later. For now... I'm glad I had the break but am also glad to be back!

Really. Don't call us.

Last night, I heard Stretch answer the phone downstairs and speaking in Korean. I assumed my mother was on the phone, but Stretch didn't call me and by the time I finished what I was doing and went downstairs, he was off the phone. Hmm.

Since moving here, we are constantly getting phone calls from telemarketers and pollsters (despite being on the national do not call list). Last night, the phone rang and Stretch looked at the caller ID and reasoned it was either a telemarketer or a pollster. So, he decided to have some fun with it. He answered the phone with, "Yo-bo-say-yo." (Korean telephone greeting) Then, he continued to speak to the person on the line in Korean, frustrating the poor man until he finally hung up.

catching up

Wow, it seems I have some catching up to do. Last week was L'il Sis first real week of preschool here. The week before she was only in the classroom for an hour and a half without me while I attended a parents' meeting. But last Tuesday she attended preschool and Lunch Bunch. So this picture is from her first real day.

Last weekend, we decided to take a trip to the Space Coast. We went

to Kennedy Space Center on Saturday. Although it was a bit warm, it was a great day for it.

There weren't too

many people there so there were no long lines for anything. It's

hard to see in the picture, but there was a space shuttle on one of the launch pads, prepared for a mission scheduled in a few weeks.

Stretch rounded off the weekend by giving me a belated anniversary gift: an Atta Girl! bracelet! I'm wearing it as I type. I'm not a huge jewelry person (I'm definitely accessory-challenged!) but I like the bracelet for a couple of reasons. It is unique. It tells a story. And I love the thought that went into it. It is more than a piece of jewelry. It has meaning behind it, reminding me that Stretch really does appreciate me and what I do.

UPDATE: Someone asked what an Atta Girl! is. So here is my attempt at an explanation. Our service members receive various awards during the course of their service. Often these awards take the form of ribbons that are worn on dress uniforms. Atta Girl! charms use crystals on Italian charms to approximate the look of ribbons and are meant to represent different achievements of family members of service members.

My Atta Girl! bracelet tells my particular story: I'm a military wife, specifically a Marine wife. My husband awarded me both a hazardous duty and a deployment Atta Girl! (both with one star) for surviving his 2 deployments to Iraq with small children, the second one being a year long. I also wear a PCS charm with 5 stars and an overseas duty charm.

Proud mama

Last night was curriculum night at Big Sis' new school. I'm still not impressed. And although it's not very big of me, I couldn't help feeling not just proud but a bit gleeful when Big Sis' teacher told me last night that she is his best student. Apparently she is always the first done with any work, the first ready with an answer in class. As a result, she is the one he usually sends on errands.

I wasn't entirely surprised because she has always gotten great reviews from teachers. I just want to know why can't she bring some of that home with her?!

Sept. 11

Last year, I posted about remembering where I was. NEE has a great post up today. It's short but to the point. It's also something along the lines of what I've been thinking today. After Pearl Harbor was bombed, our nation came together and fought a world war as a nation. After the 9/11 attacks, we came together for a short time. But that time seems to have been all too short. We are still at war, but I don't think we, as a nation, are fighting it.

Jan has a post on Standing By inviting comments on where you were 7 years ago today. And SpouseBuzz Radio will be airing a special show at 9 p.m. Eastern time.

Viva la difference!

We took the kids to a science museum today. In a corner between the hands-on displays and the hallway of brain teasers, there was tucked a little Egyptian display, complete with a child mummy. L'il Sis could not get enough of the mummy. Three or four times, she went back to "Egypt." Once she discovered this section of the museum, she would have stayed there the entire time if we'd let her. She also wouldn't stop talking about the mummy. As we were getting into the car to leave, she was talking about it. Big Sis responded with, "The mummy gave me the creeps!"

Just another moving perk...

Stretch complains about "breaking in" new barbers. But he gets a haircut every week. So if he gets a bad haircut one week, it will be different (if not better) the next week.


Today, I went to a hairdresser for the first time since moving here. Yes, I was well overdue but hesitant about finding a new place to go. And unlike Stretch, I only have my hair done every 6-8 weeks (ideally, in reality, well that's another story). I feel I have a lot less room for error than Stretch.


I went in for color and a trim today. The greys really needed covering but I don't want to take the plunge with a new haircut until I know a hairdresser better. Today's appointment went okay. The color turned out well. And I have no complaints about the trim. She barely took anything off and didn't charge me so that was a plus.



But can someone please tell me why every hairdresser I go to wants to make my hair flip out when they style it?! The woman today even went so far as to recommend a cut that would make flipping it even easier. But I don't want my hair to flip out like that weird pink and purple Doodlebop character. I have nothing against the style. Some women look quite nice wearing it. I just don't want it on MY head.

not impressed

We knew coming to this state that the schools weren't considered great. I'd started to feel better about our area as I researched schools. The elementary school Big Sis is enrolled is just received an "A" rating from the state. I don't really know what that's supposed to mean, other than it's supposed to be an indication that it's a good school. Maybe the caveat should be "for this state." Two weeks into the school year and I am not impressed.

First, Big Sis has been complaining that they don't get recess. What? Third grade and no recess? My mother-in-law (retired teacher and principal) pointed out that x number of hours was required by state law in their state. Turns out it is here, too. So, what's the problem? Overcrowding and lack of space, apparently. The school currently has over 1100 students and they just don't have enough outdoor space (especially with shade -- it is still hot and muggy here) for all the kids to get recess. Supposedly, it is a priority and they are "working" on it.

Second, Big Sis brought home a flyer yesterday for after-school Spanish classes. It would be once a week and cost $195. What?! They don't have any foreign language instruction during the school day. Big Sis has had Spanish since Kindergarten during the regular class day. While we were overseas, she received some instruction in Korean as well as a daily class in Spanish. The last school she attended was in coastal Carolina. We are now in South Florida. Which area has a more obvious need for Spanish instruction?

Oh, to be back in a DoDEA school!

Military wives

A friend sent this to me but I have no idea who wrote this. One of the comments in the email was "We must be nuts!" Well, yeah. It is particularly apt that my friend sent this to me now, at a time when I needed a reminder to pull up my big girl pants and drive on. The bold and italics are my own emphasis.

What is a MILITARY Wife?

They may look different and each is wonderfully unique
But this they have in common.
They have THIS IN COMMON!

lots of moving---
moving
moving
moving far from home
moving two cars, three kids and one dog----all riding with HER of course
moving sofas to basements because they won't go in THIS house
moving curtains that won't fit
moving jobs and certifications and professional development hours
moving away from friends moving toward new friends
moving her most important luggage; her trunk full of memories

often waiting-
waiting, waiting, waiting for housing; waiting for orders; waiting
for deployment; waiting for reunion; waiting for phones calls;
waiting for the new curtains to arrive; waiting for him to come home for dinner----AGAIN!

They call her 'military dependent', but she knows better
she can balance a checkbook
handle the yard work
fix a noisy toilet.
She is intimately familiar with drywall, anchors, and toggle bolts.
She can file the taxes, sell a house, buy a car, or set up a move, --
--all with ONE Power of Attorney.

She welcomes neighbors that don't welcome her.
Reinvents her career with every PCS; locates a house in the desert,
the arctic, or the deep south and learns to call them all 'home'.
She MAKES them all home.

She is fiercely IN-dependent

Military Wives are somewhat hasty
They leap into decorating, leadership, volunteering, career alternatives,
churches and friendships.
They don't have 15 years to get to know people.
Their roots are short but flexible.
They plant annuals for themselves and perennials for those who come after them.

Military Wives quickly learn to value each other. They connect over coffee, rely on the spouse-network and accept offers of friendship and favors and record addresses in pencil.

Military Wives have a common bond. The Military Wife has a husband unlike other husbands. His commitment is unique. He doesn't have a job, he has a 'mission' he can't just decide to quit.
He's on-call for his country 24/7 but for you, he's the most...
Unreliable guy in town!
His language is foreign: TDY, PCS, OPR, ACC, BDU
And so, a Military Wife is a translator for her family and his.
She is the long-distance link to keep them informed; the glue that holds them together.

Military Wife has her moments--
She wants to wring his neck, dye his uniform pink, and refuse to move to Siberia.
But she pulls herself together. Give her a few days, a travel brochure, a long hot bath, a pledge to the flag, and a wedding picture.
And she goes.
She packs.
She moves.
She follows.

Why? What for? How come? You may think it is because she has lost her mind.
But actually it is because she has lost her heart.
It was stolen from her by a man
who puts duty first
who longs to deploy
who salutes the flag
and whose boots in the doorway remind her that as long as he is her Military husband,
She will remain his Military wife.

Must be in the genes...

Just a little background: Stretch has a lot of teachers and educators in his family. Both his parents, his aunt, his grandmother. I have a few in my family but they are not as closely related. Plus, Stretch has done stints as an instructor and he's very good at it. (Unlike me, I was a horrible tutor. I never understood why someone didn't "get" something if I understood it.)

School's been back in session for just under a week and already Big Sis is trying to "teach" L'il Sis. Of course, L'il Sis thinks it's a game, while Big Sis takes it seriously. This is the conversation heard today while dinner was in the oven:

L'il Sis: I want to be the teacher!
Big Sis: No, you don't know anything. (said very matter-of-factly)
(more talking, but I can't make it all out)
Big Sis: I know everything. (Oh, the confidence!)
(still later)
Big Sis: (exasperated) We're not playing! (She actually is trying to teach her sister something, anything at this point)
L'il Sis: (resigned, still thinking it's a game) Fine, you can be the teacher.

(Still later, Big Sis is trying to teach L'il Sis about addition. Um, how about we just concentrate on counting without leaving out any numbers? I mean, she is only 4!)
Big Sis: 1 + 1 is 2. It's not 1 because that's multiplication.

Then she moved on to the Pledge of Allegiance. Shortly after that, L'il Sis was getting agitated and complaining that school was boring so it was a good thing dinner was ready.

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.

1st day of 3rd grade

Big Sis started 3rd grade at her 3rd school today. I usually try to take her picture by her growth stick on the first day of school. Usually, I do this in the morning. Today, between first day AND new school jitters AND the possibility of our first hurricane, well, I just forgot. So we did it after school. After homework. Big Sis insisted on that. (It was less homework and more paperwork for me and memorizing a few things for her.) Although she didn't want to tell me anything about her first day ("Quit asking questions about school, Mom!"), it was obvious that she came home excited and ready for this next year. I love that she gets excited about school and I hope she can hold onto that excitement throughout her school years.

It was starting to rain when L'il Sis and I left to pick up Big Sis at school. Her school lets out at 2:00. We left the house at 1:40 (we live less than 5 minutes away). Because it was raining, I got into the carpool lane instead of parking and picking her up at the spot where walkers are met. Big mistake! It was after 2:30 when I finally turned into the school's gate to make the short loop around the front entrance and it was 2:45 before I had Big Sis in the car. In future, either L'il Sis and I will just get drenched or we'll leave around 2:30 or later to get Big Sis!

Update: Some of you asked about Big Sis' outfit. She attends a public school, but all of the schools in this county have a "uniform." At her school, the kids can wear 4 colors (black, navy blue, khaki, and olive green) on the bottom in a variety of styles (skort, bermuda shorts, pants, capris) and any solid color top without logos. Of the colors they are allowed for their bottoms, I could only find 2.

sweethearts, tantrums and chipmunks

It seems everyone in this area was out today stocking up in case of a hurricane. I set out for Wal-Mart for the things still left on our list a couple of hours before dinner. It was packed and I spent almost as much time in line as I did shopping, despite being in the express lane! Anyway, it took me longer than I thought it would. So it was dinner time before I got back and I just knew it meant a late night for the kids with everything pushed back an hour or so. But I was in for a surprise.

Big Sis had taken it upon herself to clean up the kitchen and make dinner. On the menu this evening were hot dogs and mac-n-cheese. I'm sure she got a little bit of help from Stretch but he says it was all her idea and he let her do most of the cooking. She was so proud and insisted on plating everyone's dinner and dishing out seconds herself as well. Did I mention she's only 7?

In so many ways, she acts so grown-up. She can be so sweet and responsible. She was great with Claire the whole time we were out earlier in the day. But her mood can change so quickly that it can give you whiplash.

After dinner, she wanted to play chess. (We played for the first time the other day.) It wasn't long before she became both bored and frustrated. Then she threw a tantrum. Eventually, Stretch pinned her down and was giving her zerberts, trying to give her chill bumps and make her laugh.

And that's where chipmunks come into it. L'il Sis (aka the Brute) heard him saying "chill bumps" and jumped in wanting to give him the same but it came out "chipmunks." It took me awhile to figure out what she was talking about. She wiggled in close enough and gave him zerberts on his neck while giggling and saying "chipmunks" when she came up for air.

our little brute

I might have to change L'il Sis' nickname to "The Brute." She's my 4 year old. Her older sister is 7 (soon to be 8). They'd been bickering off and on all day today, but this afternoon it took on a whole other tone.

I heard Big Sis crying and saying that L'il Sis had punched her in the stomach. By the time I had them both in front of me, the older one was still rubbing her stomach (and yes, she can be a bit of a drama-queen) and the younger one was completely unrepentant. Apparently, Big Sis had been ignoring her. Well! We can't have that, can we?

I sent her off to her room for a time-out. Later, she traipsed into my room to tell me that Big Sis was "annoying" her. Her convoluted explanation included that Big Sis had said she "didn't care" and that was why L'il Sis, or The Brute, "beat her butt." Yes, those were her words. I know it's wrong, but it was really hard not to laugh.

Uniforms and free lunches

I don't know if I've mentioned it here or not, but our new home is NOT a military town. Stretch is here working with Reservists. There is no base or anything else remotely resembling active-duty living. The Marines have a building that they share with the Navy, motor pool area, and parking lot that is all enclosed by a rusty chain-link fence. So coming here, we really had no idea what to expect.

So far, Stretch has found that reception the Marines receive here is overwhelmingly supportive. In fact, they dress up once a week and wear their Charlies. They can't wear their cammies out in town but they can wear the Charlies. On several occasions, Marines have had strangers pay for their lunches while out in uniform. In fact, it happened to us just last week. L'il Sis and I met Stretch for lunch. We needed boxes and when the waitress brought them by, she let Stretch know that the gentleman at the next table had paid for our lunch. Of course, he thanked him right away and again before we left. Outside, he chalked it up to L'il Sis being so cute (okay, he said me, too, but I'm not buying that). Hmm. Yes, she's cute. But she's never gotten me a free lunch before.

It's an interesting thing. It's very nice to have someone feel appreciative of the military and want to do something nice for its members. At the same time, it felt a bit strange to be the recipient of that.

Guard Wife had an interesting post over on SpouseBuzz. The Mrs. over at Trying Our Best had a similar post a little while ago. The issue was having or not having a third child or when to know when you were done having children. This is such a personal issue and it is different for every family and every person.

But I know I am done. So done.

Early on, Stretch and I agreed that 2 children was the right number for us. We both came from families that had 2 kids. From a logical perspective, it meant a parent-child ratio of 1 to 1 (well, when he's around) and when only one parent was around, we had a hand for each child.

Yes, it's nice to hold a baby and inhale that clean powdery baby smell. And it's fun to play with with my toddler nephews. But babies grow up and have to be potty-trained. My girls are 4 and almost 8 now. Neither one needs to have her diaper changed. I no longer have to haul a diaper bag, changes of clothing, and a stroller just to get out the door. I no longer have to pack for every contingency just to go shopping. The oldest can get her own breakfast and even her sister's if she needs to. She can make a simple sandwich if she's hungry and no one else is willing to do it for her. The youngest is fully verbal now. I don't have to guess as much about what's wrong if she's crying. These are little things but they are huge at the same time. It means that the girls are moving that much closer to independence. They are obviously nowhere near being independent but they are a lot less dependent on me.

Although we haven't made the switch yet, legally Big Sis doesn't have to ride in her booster seat in this new state. And L'il Sis could probably make the switch from car seat to booster (her seat does both). The point is both are growing up and it is getting easier to get in and out of the car with them. Do I really want to go back to a baby in a rear-facing car seat that takes up so much room in a vehicle? No. And, on a tangent, why is it that the smaller the child, the more room their luggage and equipment takes up?!

Next year, both girls will be in school. I can almost taste getting a life of my own. So do I want to start all over? No! I love my girls and wouldn't change anything about having them, but to borrow a phrase from Bill Cosby, we have 2 children because we do not want 3.

today's quotes

While at the library today, L'il Sis suddenly says, "I want a list." When I asked her why, she responded with, "So I can go shopping." Hm-mm. Now, I know that I am the queen of lists and more lists. Wonder if it's genetic?

The other quote is from a bumper sticker I saw as we left the library:

"fat people are harder to kidnap"

Um, okay, good to know.

No brownie points for you, mister!

We're looking for a new company to take over our lawn maintenance. So the other day, I made a call and a guy came by to look at our lawn and give me a quote. He noticed the Marine Corps stepping stone I have out front and asked who was in the Marines... my husband or kid? I was a little offended that he thought I looked old enough to have a kid in the Marine Corps. About a day later, it hit me that if I'd been a teen mother that I could hypothetically have a child old enough to enlist in the Marines. That is just not cool!

tall thin weeds

I mentioned in the last couple of posts that the girls had their yearly check-ups this week so that they could be enrolled in school (okay, fine, preschool for one). Once again, it was brought home just how weak my genes must be. After the girls had each been weighed and measured by a nurse (not a corpsman? this civilian doctors' office is gonna take some getting used to), we were put into an examining room to wait for our new pediatrician. She came in and the first words out of her mouth were that both girls were tall for their age but thin. Like this is news to me. They get both of these traits from Stretch, obviously. Big Sis's height and weight percentiles were inversely proportionate to each other, which I thought was funny: Her weight fell into the 47th percentile while her height was in the 74th. She's actually come down from her days at the 90-95th end of the chart. L'il Sis on the other hand topped the height chart at 98th percentile. But that is down from her infant days when she was off the charts. Yeah, those are not the Asian genes at work.

It's never easy...

Finally! I managed to get Big Sis enrolled in her new school today. It only took 4 attempts:

1. Go to school, only to learn there was no one available in the office.

2. Return to school during hours when someone is available. Receive packet of paperwork to fill out. Have brought copy of birth certificate and last school's records with me. However, am told that must have a number of other documents, including medical form and Florida immunization record. (I guess that international shot record just won't do.) Only a complete packet will be accepted.

3. It takes almost a month to get an appointment for the girls to see a doctor. After the appointment, I think I have everything needed to enroll Big Sis. So we make our way back to the school. Everything is there... except 2 proofs of residency. I rummage through my purse but can only find a coupon from Home Depot with our address on it. Deep breaths. Bundle kids back into hot car.

4. Am determined to get this child enrolled. Back at the house, pull car into the shade of the garage, run into house, find lease, phone bill and community clubhouse ID (figure they will accept at least 2 of the 3). Return once more to the school. Turn in complete packet.

I'm beginning to hate stickers

Stickers. Kids get them as rewards. Oh, but I'm beginning to hate the sight of them. It's bad enough that L'il Sis will stick them on any and every unsuitable surface. But I can deal with that. That's what Goo Gone is for. But in the past week, stickers have caused 2 melt-downs by Big Sis and a panic episode for L'il Sis.

After their first swim lesson with their new swim teacher last week, she gave L'il Sis a sticker. Big Sis didn't get one because she was busy swimming and playing in another part of our community pool (her lesson was first and then she went off to play and met a little girl her age). On the way home, when she realized L'il Sis had a sticker and she didn't, major meltdown. By the way, she will be 8 in a couple of months and L'il Sis just turned 4.

Yesterday, they had another swim lesson. This time Big Sis made sure she stayed close enough to get her sticker. Both received stickers and when it was time to go home, Big Sis took a long circuitous route around a large yard to get to our car. L'il Sis started to chase after her over the grass, but when I called her back to me, the sticker fell off her wet body and she lost the small sticker in the grass. Tears and upset followed. Big Sis was sweet and tore her sticker in half to share with L'il Sis.

Today, both girls had a medical checkup so that they can be enrolled in schools here. L'il Sis also had to receive 2 shots. The nurse told her she could pick 2 stickers as a result. You can see where this is going, can't you? Big Sis had a major meltdown before we ever got out of the office. She crumpled up her one sticker and kept throwing it in on the floor. (I made her keep picking it up so she could throw it into the trash.) Out in the car, after she lost TV privileges, L'il Sis offered to share with her, but she was having none of it.

All this because of stickers that will not last the day and end up in the trash anyway. Seriously?!

another list

Ages ago, a friend emailed this list to me. I've added a few of my own comments in red.

25 WAYS TO KNOW YOU ARE A MARINE SPOUSE:

1. You yell at your kids saying, "Don't make me email your Father!"
2. Your neighbors know you but have never seen your active-duty husband. Likewise, your husband has no idea who any of the neighbors are.
3. Your conversations are sprinkled with PCS, TAD, LES, etc. and you know what they mean. My brother-in-law actually said that I "talk like him [Stretch] now."
4. You had 8 address changes in 9 years and you are not on the run from the law. 9 addresses in 10 years. And, no, we're not on the run from the law.
5. The front hall closet of your home is designated as a uniform closet. What?! Only one dinky hall closet?! How about a separate bedroom with it's own big closet. That way the room can house all that "I love me" gear: awards, plaques, military-themed pictures and decorations...oh, and the uniforms, too...
6. Your spouse will be gone for 2 weeks for work and you think, "Is that all? No problem." "I'll get to catch up on all the "chick" rentals from Netflix." "The kids can eat chicken nuggets and mac-n-cheese -- woo hoo, no cooking for 2 weeks!"
7. The radiator blows up on the car and the washing machine dies just as your spouse leaves for temporary duty. And you wait for the 3rd thing to go.
8. You aren't surprised when you get 4 day notice for a 4 month deployment.
9. You don't know your own Social Security number, but you know your spouse's by heart. And you're surprised when anyone wants yours.
10. You are in a disagreement with a bill collector and say, "Let me speak to your CO!"
11. You spend your second wedding anniversary alone. Been there, done that.
12. You move your day care business from one state to another and still have the same children enrolled.
13. You have a collection of different shapes, sizes, and colors of window treatments for the same room. I didn't even bother with window treatments until 2 years ago. But now the collection does seem to be growing. What's disturbing, though, is the collection of curtain rods I now have.
14. Your heart races when you hear the doorbell ring during a deployment. Or the phone ring.
15. You've done more oil changes and mowed more lawns than your spouse because he's never there to do it himself. I just laugh when Stretch wants to keep some ratty piece of clothing because he "can wear it for yard work." When is he ever home to DO any yard work?
16. You remember milestones by duty stations. Oh, yeah...when/where major purchases were made, when/where the kids were born.
17. All your kids, including your 2 yr old, stop what they are doing and put their hands on their hearts whenever they hear the National Anthem.
18. You can sleep through the sounds of fighter planes and bombers during their morning practice. I usually don't even notice when artillery is going off in the distance.
19. You reach for your ID card when entering a civilian store. I've actually flashed my ID at Sam's Club.
20. You ask someone to hold on by saying, "Standby." Okay, I admit it, I've done this.
21. Your kids point and anyone wearing cammies and boots, regardless of race or gender and yell Daddy! Thank goodness everyone else's kid on base usually does the same thing!
22. You tell the movers the correct way to pack.
23. You notice when Hollywood makes mistakes in portraying the military. Ok, I admit, I do.
24. Military homecomings on TV bring tears to your eyes because you can relate so well. Sadly, it doesn't take much. I also love the Toys for Tots commercial with the little boy going up to the stoic Marine who eventually opens his hand and takes the boy's list and then the boy leaves whispering, "He really is Santa Claus!"
25. You start to read the Leatherneck in place of Cosmopolitan. I've picked up the Marine Corps Gazette to glance through it to see if we know any of the contributors. I don't really read many of the articles, though. Sad, I know.

Putting the pieces back together again

This is a post I meant to write much earlier. Oh, well, better late than never. And, maybe, I'll have more to say now.


There's something a bit disturbing about seeing all your things boxed up, your home looking a bit forlorn (as if it knows it's about to be abandoned). It's a bit like seeing your life boxed up to be neatly delivered somewhere else and hoping everything will be intact on the other end.


Seeing all of our worldly goods lined up in the driveway, waiting to be loaded onto the moving truck is always a bit strange, too. Until this last move, I always thought to myself, "Stretch doesn't know what he's talking about. We hardly have any stuff." This move was different. This time, I looked at all that "stuff" on our front yard and thought, "Good lord! I thought I'd purged but clearly not nearly enough. Where did all that come from?!"



Now, we're in the latest house. It's a good deal larger than the last one (which was pretty big by our standards -- it had been the largest one we'd ever lived in until now). But I'm still having the same old problem of trying find a home for all our things. I've heard more than one mil-spouse refer to it as a giant jigsaw puzzle. Sometimes, the homes are too small to comfortably fit all our things. Other times, especially when we were newlyweds, we didn't have much and tried to spread things out so the place didn't appear quite so empty (this failed miserably, by the way).


In some ways, it's fun because you never quite know where things will end up. While this house is big, it's a bit short on wall space. Which is why a painting that used to be in our living room is now in the master bedroom. Another painting that used to be in our living room and a framed papyrus that had been displayed in the dining room now share space in our entryway. This home is coming together, but slowly. I'm still trying to figure out where all the pieces will go this time.

10 years

10 years. That's how long it's been since we said our vows before family and friends. Since then, we've had 9 addresses, 6 PCS (Permanent Change of Station) moves and 2 children along the way. We've moved down the coast (both of them), across the country and around the world. We've driven across barren wasteland wondering when we'd see the next person. And we've survived driving in the urban traffic of D.C., L.A., and Seoul.

10 years. We've endured the blistering heat of Mojave Desert summers and the butt-numbing cold of Korean winters. We've survived ice storms, tornadoes, earthquakes and monsoons. We've seen some beautiful places in the world. From the back of beyond in British Columbia (places so remote that the only way in and out was the train) to soaking up the sun in Jamaica to the fabulous sights and shopping in Singapore.

10 years. We've made so many memories. It's been an incredible decade of learning about ourselves, each other, and our marriage. And there's so much more to learn and experience. So many more memories to make. Here's to the next 10 years!

Read all about it!

It's here!

HOUSEHOLD BAGGAGE HANDLERS: 56 Stories From the Hearts and Lives of Military Wives

As the editor, Marna Krajeski writes on her website: "...48 wives share their total embarrassments, tragic experiences, and tender emotions as they tackle the daily dramas of military life. By turns touching and hilarious, Household Baggage Handlers opens the door on an often overlooked world, one requiring the independence and survival skills to:

• Move overseas while six months pregnant
• Manage labor, delivery, and a newborn … without a spouse
• Nurse a critically injured husband back to health
• Confront the sight of someone in uniform at the front door
• Shelter five children alone during a tornado
• Cope with bats, blizzards, and broken cars during long deployments

Read all about it in their own words. With anecdotes from WWII to the present, these compelling stories capture a sisterhood forged by extraordinary circumstances. "

Within the covers are stories written by a variety of women such as syndicated columnists Sarah Smiley and Jacey Eckhart, SpouseBuzz contributors Andi Hurley and Ruthie Alekseyev (a.k.a. airforcewife), and ME! Who knows? One of the contributors could be your neighbor! Get a copy now!