Fly away

I'd love to be telling you about all the neat stuff going on here. There's a ton of stuff. We've got bluebirds in our box and they have 4 eggs. We have a great garden going. Wes is taking the month of June off, so we've been going to the zoo and stuff like that. It's all good.

These radishes are delicious!
The Navy Bean won't eat them though,
she's says they're too "sour."

But, this post is going to be about how the Navy Bean was almost killed in a freak wind storm.

In order to keep my sanity, we got the Navy Bean a swingset. Before it got hotter than hell here, we were probably outside for 3 hours every day. She LOVED her playset. We loved her playset. The playset was all good.

Then, one day we were outside, and in less than 10 minutes, the sky went from sunny with no clouds to pitch black. The Navy Bean was in the fort part of her playset, and as Wes and I were heading to get her and take her inside, a freak wall of wind, (about 70 miles an hour) picked the playset up, took it straight into the air and dropped in down. With the Navy Bean in it. We were terrified and screaming and she was screaming. Those were probably the worst moments of my life. Go back and look at the picture of the playset. Look at what is around it and behind it. Yeah, nothing but ground that is as hard as concrete.

The back wall of the fort is a tarp. Thankfully, she was pushed into the tarp and didn't hit her head of any of the wood. She came down on a very small shrub. Pretty much the only shrub in the yard. She walked away with 2 quarter size bruises and that was it. Oh, and a fear of wind (but only in our yard, everywhere else she is fine).

The Navy Bean showing you how big she is in comparison to the shrub she landed on.

She is fine. She was back outside within two hours, lamenting the fact that her playset was broken. Wes has fixed it, but now it's so hot we don't go out much. And she's afraid of the wind.

But she does talk about it. "Big, big storm and big, big wind come. They take playset up, up, up and throw it down to the ground! Navy Bean go up, up, up and then down to the ground. I really scared. But I okay now. God keep me safe. Storm go away. I no scared anymore."

Thank God he did keep her safe.
I don't think I could live without seeing this face everyday.

Stop the rocking

So, the vertigo attack happened on Oct. 21st. I'm still not normal. I am home, by myself. I can drive. I can cook. I cannot handle stores (good thing we're doing Christmas in mid-Jan.). Lots of movement makes me dizzy and tired. But, I can take care of the Navy Bean, even if it means way more TV than I would like. I spent three weeks in Texas. It was a good trip. And then my father-in-law drove us home, and stayed for a week.

I had my ENT appointment today. They think it was just a very strong (and pissed off) viral attack to my right ear. They are going to do a MRI just to make sure I don't have a tumor, but they seriously doubt it (they just want me to remove all my earrings again). And, not related to the vertigo, I am apparently mildly deaf in both ears. Now I actually have an excuse when Wes asks why I can't hear him.

I feel like this has derailed a lot of things I was trying to do, but it also make the deployment go by a lot faster. Still, it would be nice to be back to normal.

My boring self

I'd love to be able to tell you that I've been gone doing interesting stuff, but that's not true. The Navy Bean is going through a phase where I have to spend EVERY SINGLE MINUTE paying attention to her, which makes blogging a tad bit difficult. I know I could blog once she goes to bed, but by then I'm exhausted and I want to do something fun, like play Dragon Age and try to seduce my companions (you should try it: guilt free casual sex).

I am planning something interesting, but I won't be able to talk about it for a month. I know, I'm such a tease.

Now, I will leave you with an IQ story (because those are so much fun). IQ Jr. is doing massive amounts of therapy, both physical and speech (among other things). He is not developing as quickly as he should. They should be grateful that Mr. IQ is in the Navy, because insurance is paying for everything (yes, your tax dollars are being spent to help a child who probably wouldn't have issues if IQ didn't ignore him all the time). Anyway, they recently bought a house, a pretty nice one, I should add. When I went to see it, I asked why the dining room had crayon all over the walls (every, single, wall). IQ replied that she had been unpacking upstairs and left IQ Jr. downstairs. First, why are you leaving a 2 year old on a different floor (only acceptable for short periods of time, or if he's sleeping), second, the stairs were open in the back, meaning he could have fallen through if he had tried to climb up, third, he was in the room next to the kitchen and fireplace. Let's not even think about what could have happened there. So, yes, IQ's mothering skills still suck.

And, in other IQ news, she has decided she will not have sex with her husband until she loses weight. Apparently her head starts shaking when they have sex. Now, I have no idea what that has to do with her weight (and yes, she does need to lose weight), but, since I once asked my husband if both IQ and Mr. IQ put bag over their heads when they have sex, I'm not really sure if I should feel bad for Mr. IQ or not.

Prodigal IUD

I had a Doctor's appointment yesterday to locate my prodigal IUD. Turns out, since the strings were super short, they had just gotten pushed up where I couldn't find them. So everything is OK!!!! I'm still making Wes get fixed when he gets home.

Cornhole games

Most of you know that I spent much of my life living in Dallas, TX. It's kind of the south, but not really, more southwest. People have strange twangs, but not true southern accents (ok, some of them have ridiculous accents, but that's another post). They eat a lot of fried food, they love their beer and country music, a lot of them are racists. But, until I moved to Virginia, I did not realize that Texas was not truly south. I love Virginia, but whew boy! Half the time I'm not sure what language the natives are speaking (these would be the same people that spout off "learn English" to anyone who doesn't look, or sound, American). The country music is worse, the racism, not as bad as I expected, the bar-b-que, worth dying for. But, the biggest surprise is their love of cornhole.



Go ahead and look puzzled while trying not to giggle like a 12 year old boy. Apparently cornhole is a very, VERY popular game. You try to throw bags, filled with corn, through a hole in a board. Hence the name, cornhole. I guess some people have tried to change the name (why? why would you want to do that?) but it hasn't taken (what's wrong with beanbags?). The first time we heard about it was an article in the paper. Wes read the headline, "Cornhole is a favorite" and said, "cornhole IS great!" I don't think he actually read the article. Ahem! During this summer, cornhole has been EVERYWHERE. On the radio (come down and play cornhole with us!), in the paper (come down and play cornhole with us!) and in the neighbors yards (come over and play cornhole with us!)! And every single time, I have to fight not to giggle like a 12 year old boy. (This reminds me of when my very virginal sister was about to get married and we were at lunch with our mom when my sister asked if Christians were allowed to be freaky in bed. My mom and I kind of looked at each other and asked what she meant by freaky. She said, "oral sex" and then my mom and I tried not to die laughing, because neither one of us consider that freaky (if you ever meet my mom, pretend you don't know that about her) and said that was fine. Boy, my sister would be embarrassed if she knew about my husband's love of "cornhole." And this writing is a perfect example of why my advisor thought I would never be able to write a dissertation.) Anyway, I have yet to play a game of cornhole, even though I know at least two of our neighbors own the game. I guess I just think your cornhole games should be private.

TMI!!!!! TMI!!!!!

Otherwise known as: The case of the missing IUD

After the Navy Bean was born, Wes wanted to get a vasectomy, but I wanted him to wait until she was two, just in case we decided we wanted another one. I tried going back on the pill, but since I was breastfeeding, it was too difficult, so I got an IUD. It seemed to be working just fine, with a few minor issues, but those were taken care of. For those of you who don't know about IUDs, you are supposed to check to make sure they are in place after you have your period. Apparently, when your uterus "opens" up, they can fall out. Since I breastfed the Navy Bean until she was 17 months old, I've only recently started having periods again (two and a half years without a period, why wouldn't you breastfeed?). Anyway, the IUD has "strings" on it, but they really feel more like fishing line, and that's what you're supposed to feel for. I used to check a couple times a month, but now I just check after my period. I started my last period two weeks before Wes left for deployment. I know I checked for my IUD after that. At least, I think I did. All I know is that a couple of days after Wes left, I checked for it, and couldn't find it. Well, maybe the strings got wound up, or something. Checked the next day, nothing. The day after that, nothing. Now, based on the schedule of when Wes left, I figured I was okay, but I was still a little nervous. I am happy to report that I am NOT pregnant!!!!! YAY!!!!! And there was much rejoicing!!!! But now, I know for sure that I don't want another baby. When Wes gets back, he will get that vasectomy.

Some people have asked why I don't get taken care of, but the truth is, I'm just not ready for that. I mean, Wes is in the military, so there is always (God forbid) the chance that something could happen to him. And if that happened, who's to say I wouldn't end up with Magnus Scheving and then maybe we'd want to have a baby together? Stranger things have happened. Like an IUD gone missing.

Child Protective Services

I called CPS on IQ today. I talked to her on the phone and asked why IQ Jr. was screaming. She said he did that when she put him in his room so she could play WOW. Is he in his crib? No. Just in his room. With the door shut? Yes. While you play WOW? Yes, because he doesn't really take naps anymore.

He's 16 months old. He still doesn't walk. Or do anything he should be doing at that age. I hope they take him away.

She's still talking about having another one.

9 months old

My little adorable Navy Bean is 9 months old. She is so big, and smart, and funny. I just want to hold on to her, and beg her to slow down, just a little bit. Stay small for a while. Stay mommy's girl for a while. Stay a Navy Bean! She just won't listen. I love her so much.

We need to start a fan club for her at the commissary. I think at least four people stop us every week and comment about how cute and happy she is. She eats the attention up. But they are right: she is cute and very, very happy. One of her favorite games is trying to take my magazine, or my crocheting and playing tug-of-war with them as I declare, "No, that's not Navy Bean's. That's mommy's." Apparently, everything is hers.

We still have some sleeping issues, but everything else makes up for it. Besides crawling at light speed, she has begun taking little steps. She's up to three now. Part of me wants her to stop it, part of me can't wait for her to wobble across the room to me. She loves to play Peek-a-boo. All the time. For a very long time. She will play it anywhere. She loves to duck below a chair to pop back up. She loves to hide behind blankets, stuffed animals, toys, hands, anything that can hide her eyes. She loves to play when nursing, covering her one visible eye with my shirt and giggling as I cry "oh no, where is the Navy Bean? She was just right here. Navy Bean, where are you?" and then she pops up only to cover her eye again before I can finish, "Oh, there you are!"

She is fearless. She would crawl off the bed everyday if we let her. She will find a way to make it over our make-shift gates. She is amazing and I love her to death.

Which is why I haven't written about IQ lately. Her son, who is 6 1/2 months older than Navy Bean is not walking yet (among other things). This is why: IQ called me the other day and told me she is now playing WOW on her husband's computer in the living room because that way IQ Jr. can be in his pack n' play and still see her, rather than her playing in the office, when he would have to stay in his crib in his own room all day.

Twilight zone

I was going to tell some IQ stories, but something even weirder happened. I know, how is that possible? You guys remember Charley, right? Charley, my ex, who also happened to be the best man at Wes's first marriage. Charley, the pot-head who brought out the absolute worst in me, and I in him. Charley, who has been engaged at least 4 times, yet never got married. Yeah, well, Charley is back, sorta.



Last fall, some friends of ours from TX, who also happen to live in VA, got married. Some friends of ours who still live in TX came out for the wedding, including Charley. Some of these friends stayed with us and told us a really interesting Charley story. See, Charley was dating a new woman. Nothing new there. But, there was some drama surrounding this woman. Apparently this woman was a repeated convicted felon, for identity theft and things of that nature. Our friend, a lawyer, had run a check on her, at the request of another of our friends. Turns out, there was a lot more shady stuff than she had told Charley. My friend let Charley know, and then things got weird. Apparently, Charley's girlfriend is very powerful and has some powerful family because they threatened my lawyer friend with ruining his career. If she is so powerful, how come she spent so much time in prison?

Anyway, we hadn't heard anything from Charley in a while, but we had heard that his new girlfriend treats him very well and really seems to be good for him. So, good for him. This past weekend, Wes and I got an e-mail from Charley's girlfriend. They are getting married this year and wanted our address. I replied with the usual: congrats and here's our address. She sent me a longish e-mail telling me she had really wanted to contact me before but wasn't sure how I would feel about that. She wanted us to get to know her and judge her for who she was and not what we had heard. She loved Charley sooooooo much and he's such an awesome man. He's a deacon at their church!!!! (I have to gripe about this because they are living together and not married. Yes, I've lived with a man I wasn't married to (Charley) but I wasn't a deacon. I wasn't even going to church. What kind of shady church is this?) And they would really love it if we could come out for the wedding. It would mean so much to Charley. And they wanted to know how the navy bean was.

I e-mailed back that I'm glad that Charley is doing so well and that we really just wanted what was best for him. We wouldn't be able to make it to the wedding though, because we're building a house (we have no extra money). She sent me about 6 e-mail with pictures and offered to pay for the plane tickets. Because us being there is what Charley really wants.

What!!!!!!!

Let's look at the facts. I met Charley in high school when I was hanging out with Wes. Charley and I dated for a while. He thought I liked Wes more (I did). Several years later, Charley was the best man at Wes's wedding. Several years after that, I was living with Charley and we were talking about getting married. After we broke up, he made me promise I wouldn't ever date Wes. Several years after that, I married Wes and had a baby.

Yes, I can see why Charley would want us both to be there. We have so much history!

Why does this woman want to be my new best friend? Sounds shady to me.

Snow, sleet, rain, shine

I wanted to post a picture, but I'm having technical difficulties. It's called, whenever I try to post a picture, my wireless router freezes up and I can't. If you want cute pictures, go to growingnavybean.blogspot.com

Anyway, today the Navy Bean and I decided we should go check the mail, since we hadn't since Saturday. Our mailbox is one of those communal ones, half-way down the street. So I loaded her up and we walked down there, only to discover . . . the mail box was gone. Completely gone. The little legs were still there, but laying on their sides. I think someone hit the mailbox with their car. Now I have to call the post office to find out 1) if they have it and 2) what do we do until they fix it. What a hassle!

Meanwhile, the Navy Bean is voicing her displeasure with the fact that I am trying to get her to take a nap in her crib. All her naps take place in her swing (yes, I am a bad mother), but I would like to get the afternoon ones in her crib. It's not working. Oh well.

Resolutions and TMI

So I'm a little late getting to my resolutions. Give me a break! It's still January and I just had a baby. I noticed that Camille is resolving to get in shape before her 35th birthday. That made me think, because my 35th birthday is 10 days before hers. I could lose all this weight before then, but I don't think I'd look very good. I'd rather get in shape and get toned, which might take a while longer. So I resolve to have a bangin' body by May. Now, my husband already thinks I look great but that might be because 1) his x still hasn't lost her baby weight (her weight fluctuates, but she's never lost that last 20 lbs) and 2) he's only had sex 3 times since April 7th of last year (more on that in a minute). And I resolve to make a friend this year. A friend who lives in my area. I have a ton of friends and thanks to facebook, more and more of my old friends are popping up. This is wonderful and I'm thankful for it, but, I don't have anyone I would really consider a friend here. And with a new baby and a husband in the navy, a close friend would be handy. Not to mention it would be nice to have someone to hang out with once in a while. This means I have to move out of my comfort zone though, and reach out to people. But I can do it! Those are my 2 resolutions. That's it. We're keeping it nice and simple.

Now, to the TMI part. My poor husband. First he goes on deployment for 6 months, then he comes back to a 9 month pregnant wife and then we've had a few complications. I may have mentioned that the birth was a bit rough and I ended up with a lot of stitches. A lot of stitches. Well, even though I could tell the stitches had dissolved, things just didn't feel, um, right, down there. At my check-up, the doctor confirmed this. I guess that although the stitches healed up, some cells that were supposed to be growing on the inside of the stitches decided to grow on the outside. The doctor said that's not that uncommon. Only she had never seen the amount I had before. They need to be removed. By cauterization. Yes, I will have my lady bits cauterized. Don't you wish you were me!!! But, that means my poor husband has to wait until that has healed up before, well, you know. I think Navy Bean will be our only child together.

Navy Bean is 4 weeks old, and still cute!

We have made it four whole weeks!!!! I am still alive, Navy Bean is still alive and we still love each other!!! I consider this a huge success. She is progressing very well for someone so small. First, she's already grown out of almost all her newborn clothes. I don't know who told her she could do that! I told her she had to stay my little girl forever, but apparently she is intent on getting big. I try to convince her that she is already "soooooo big" but it is not working. She is smiling more, her eyes actually follow the mobile (on occasion), she is "talking", and her neck skills are very impressive. Her spit up skills are also very impressive. One downside to breastfeeding, when she spits up, it runs down your belly. How fun is that!?!

Navy Bean getting her first bath where she sat in the water.

She really liked it.

Is there anything more pathetic, or cuter, than a pouting baby?

When I was little, my grandma used to tell me that a bird would

come and poop on my big pouty lips. Was anyone else

ever told this? Wes thinks it is weird.

Making funny faces at daddy.

She has started to fight sleep, which she must have gotten from Wes, because we all know I will sleep anywhere, anytime. Yesterday was our first trip to the park. The weather was warm, and she was fighting her nap, and thus, a car ride to the park was just the solution. She slept through the whole park, but I got outside and got some exercise.

On a slightly related note, my husband and I are dweebs. We discovered that we've been giving everyone the wrong anniversary date for us. See, we eloped, so it's not like there was a date on the calendar for a year before it happened. Neither one of us remembered the exact date, so I've been going by the expiration date on my military ID. We just realized my ID expires the day before we got married. So we've been celebrating the wrong date too. Whoops!

Someone called CPS on IQ and no, it was not me. I am a little ticked about it though, because I think it was the social worker that's supposed to have been helping IQ. She's been leaving hints with IQ that her house is a mess, but because IQ has the mental capacity of a middle schooler, she doesn't take hints. This lady should have sat IQ down, spelled it out for her, given her a list of things that needed to be done, and then helped her clean. Instead, she passed the buck. Now IQ is in the system and he husband was gone when it happened, so now the Navy also knows about it (they made him fly home) which really damages his career (although he could have gotten off his lazy ass and cleaned too). Anyway, CPS gave her a very long list of things that needed to be done and a week to do them. When they come back, they are going to sit down with her and give her a chore chart/calendar. I hope she realizes though, that this is not just a one time deal. They will continue to check on her and she will have to maintain her house, otherwise, they will take IQ Jr. And I don't want that. The stupid social worker was supposed to help prevent this, not cause it.

Over-heard at the gym

While changing at the gym the other day, I over-heard two mid-life women talking.

"I drank soy milk and ate soy products for years, not knowing."
"Yeah, my doctor told me that they could cause osteoporosis because of all the estrogen."
"I know. I used to give it to my kids too, including my son. No wonder there are so many gays! I bet their moms didn't even know about all the estrogen in soy milk."

There's not even anything you can say to that!

Well, what do you know?

I got a phone call from IQ on Thursday. She began, "it has nothing to do with what you said, but I cleaned the house, because my m-i-l is coming, not because of what you said." First, who knows how clean it really is, but I'll take what I can get. Second, I don't care why you cleaned it, I'm just happy you did. I think I'm going to have Wes talk to Mr. IQ about his fathering skills. Mr. IQ refuses to play WOW with one hand, and thus, ignores the baby if he is playing WOW. He has never even given the baby a bath (the baby is 5 months old!). Wes is horrified. Although you would have never guessed from Wes's high school actions (ok, I guess he was technically practicing to make lots of babies), Wes is a great dad. He is excited to be a dad. The thought of dirty diapers doesn't phase him. Crying baby. Not a problem. Stressed out wife. We'll get through this. When I point out all the stuff he needs to do when he gets home to get the nursery ready, he's excited because he feels left out. He's the type of dad who does stuff because he wants to, not because it's his responsibility as a dad. I really couldn't ask for a better husband.

Baby stuff is starting to trickle in!!! I know I promised pictures of the stuff I already had, and I will get to that (just not now). But this week, Camille got me a beautiful Moses basket (so now the baby has a place to sleep), the cutest receiving blankets ever, a bouncer (which I'm going to wait to put together when Wes is here), a mirror for the car and the health kit thing from Red Cross. And my Sunday School class is also going to give me a baby shower, which I think is super nice. I also decided I should probably order diapers within the next week. Does anyone know anything about cloth diapers? I've found some, but now the prospect of washing them at home (there's no diaper service in this area) is starting to freak me out. I just want to do what's best for the baby and the environment.

According to the calendar, I have 6 weeks left. It is going to fly by (at least the next 4 weeks, since next week I have 2 doctor's appointments, the week after that Wes comes home, his kids and dad will be with us for a week, then we have a doctor's appointment, a wedding and the baby shower and the week after that the birthing class). At the same time, I really can't believe how uncomfortable I am. I can only stay in one position for about 15 minutes before I have to move. How do working women do it??? How do women in third world countries, who sleep on the ground do it??? How do women carrying more than one baby do it??? (Kudos to you Sandi!) I feel like I'm constantly playing musical chairs. But I will miss the baby movements. Those are kind of cool. And she's had the hiccups every day for the last 5 days (a couple of days, twice). And right now I'm chasing a foot around my tummy. I can't wait to eat that foot!

Mother of the year

I've mentioned before that IQ is a WOW player (world of warcraft). Well, one day, a while back, she was commenting on how her sister is not a good mom because all she does is try to meet guys on the computer, ignoring her two children. IQ stated she understood that IQ Jr. comes first, and that's why when he's fussy, she'll take care of him, even though it's difficult to play WOW with one hand!

I don't play WOW and never have, but IQ and her husband have made me HATE WOW. Now, Mr. IQ is not learning diabilitied (IQ explanation for why she is how she is), but actually has a college degree, in engineering. But, when he comes home from work, he plays WOW and when he plays WOW he ignores IQ Jr., leaving IQ to play WOW with only one hand. This is an area of contention for them. But the point is, he should know better. About everything. Like the state of their apartment. His mom is coming into town this week, and IQ kept saying she should clean the house. I was there today. First, I can't believe she wouldn't let ANYONE into her house, with it looking like that. Second, I can't believe he would let his mom into the house, with it looking like that. Third, I can't believe they live in a house that looks like that.

I told her that once IQ Jr. is mobile (and he's getting there) and CPS were called, he would be removed from the home. I saw on the floor, in addition to just plain out trash, a Swiss army knife, a bottle opener, a cork from a wine bottle, 5 pens and pencils, a bag of chips, cat food, cat feces, and clumps of cat hair. And that's just what I could see. IQ was very upset that I had said that (remember, she grew up in foster care and claimed she would do EVERYTHING possible to keep IQ Jr.) and claimed she was "doing the best I can. But it's hard for me to take care of IQ Jr. and do ANYTHING." See, that's the problem. Not that she isn't capable but that when it comes to doing anything BESIDES WOW, she just can't do it with IQ Jr. around. She can't clean because of IQ Jr. She can't study for her driver's licence because of IQ Jr. She can't eat properly because of IQ Jr. She can't exercise because of IQ Jr. But she can spend at least 8 hours a day playing WOW. And Mr. IQ lets her get away with that. Well, that's fine and dandy, but I would rather get a frantic phone call from IQ screaming at me because CPS is taking away IQ Jr (which would get Mr. IQ kicked out of the navy), than a frantic phone call from IQ because IQ Jr. is choking to death on something.

But I'm glad she's willing to play WOW with only one hand because that makes her the freaking mother of the year.

She couldn't afford a clue

I was talking to IQ on the phone the other day, and mentioned that Wes will be home soon. She hadn't realized he would be home that soon and said that she bet he was really excited to be getting home. Oh yes, he is excited. She continued, "I bet I know someone who he will be the most excited about seeing, someone he probably can't wait to see. . . .IQ Jr.!!!!"

Yes, yes you are right. He has an extremely pregnant wife, two kids and a dad, but he doesn't care about any of that. He just wants to see your kid and bask in the miracle that you haven't managed to kill him yet.

That was weak

IQ called me yesterday freaking out because of Hanna. The navy takes all the ships out for tropical storms/hurricanes, so her husband was leaving. She said she had never been in a tropical storm before. Um, we had one last summer, but the guys were already gone, so she probably didn't even know we had one. She was very concerned about how IQ Jr. would act. I pointed out that he wouldn't know it was a tropical storm and would only freak out if she did, so she might want to keep it under control. They live on the second floor, so at least they didn't have to worry about flooding. I asked if she had plenty of water and food. Yes, she had plenty of water and had gotten lots of soup in case the electricity went out and she couldn't use the microwave. Um, do I really need to point out that she has an electric stove? Instead of pointing that out to her, I asked if she had bread. She did. Good, then there should be no problems.

But, Hanna is turning out to be pretty weak. The navy didn't take the ships out, although I doubt IQs husband is home yet. They probably kept them on the ships over night, just in case. And at 4:00am when I was eating yogurt and watching Comedy Central, it still hadn't started raining. It's rained a little bit this morning, and it has been VERY windy, but it actually looks like it's starting to clear up and might even be sunny soon. I was supposed to take CPR today, but it was cancelled and rescheduled for Wed. So I've just been cleaning. I think we're all going to be ok.

Smell the burning

I am cheap. This is not a surprise to anyone who knows me. I hate spending money (except on boots, boots are worth lots of money). I especially hate spending money on things that um, to put it nicely, I think are a waste of money. For example, weddings, nails, name brand clothing or furniture and especially, baby stuff. First, babies don't know or care how much money you paid for that crib/car seat/high-chair/nursery set/toys, you get the picture. Second, babies don't really need half the stuff we claim they need. If you think they do, travel to any other country in the world and see what they give their kids and how many of them survive. Third, babies don't know if anyone else has spit-up or pooped in their baby stuff. Therefore, I am trying to spend as little as possible and only on necessary items. The only thing I have purchased new is the travel system (stroller/car seat) because safety does come first. And my parents actually bought it for me. And I got it at the NEX, so it was about $50 less than it would have been anywhere else (I'm not supposed to discuss how much money we can save at the NEX, but just remember, my husband is gone ALL THE TIME, so I deserve cheaper stuff). My next door neighbor gave me a high chair (I tried to pay her for it, but she wouldn't have it) and I troll the local consignment store about once a week. I've managed to snag a $80 swing for $35 and a $18 bathtub for $5. I check up on Craig's list every couple of hours, and there, I have managed to get a breast pump ($40 less than the store and still in the box), a bumbo seat and a play-mat (total of $30 off of store prices). Um, that is actually all I have at this point. But I'm working on it.

The point is, I don't work and I have the time to try to save money. I've talked to other moms and I'm trying to figure out what I really need. And, I've talked to IQ about all of this. I've taken her to the consignment store and when I've picked up stuff off of Craig's list. But does she listen? Noooooooooo!!! Before IQ Jr. was born, they went and bought a bassinet (more than $100) and a stroller (they thought it came with the car seat. It didn't). They didn't do any research and they didn't go to the NEX. After IQ Jr. was born (who is adorable, by the way, I babysat the other night and his smile will just make you melt), they went to the store and bought a swing. At full price. The expensive swing. And they've only put IQ Jr. in it once. It's not that he didn't like it, they just choose never to use it. I told IQ that we weren't getting a bassinet because we wanted to get a pack n' play with a bassinet on it (we travel a lot, this made more sense). Thus, the next time we went to Target, she decided she needed a pack n' play. No, I don't know why. I even told her that could find one on Craig's list for half the price. She didn't care. At least they actually use it. So, IQ Jr. is getting bigger (he's 4 months) so they needed a crib. I told her that both the consignment place and Craig's list had great cribs for pretty cheap. Did they do that? No. Did they buy a full price crib at Target or go to the NEX? No. They went to the place in the strip mall next to their apartment where they paid (are you sitting down?) $550 for a new crib. Yes, you read that right. They paid Five Hundred and Fifty dollars for a new crib, and the place won't even deliver it, they have to pick it up, and I'm willing to bet it doesn't include a mattress. I just checked Target and Babies r Us and they both have a HUGE number of cribs for between $150 and $300. And they deliver.

As I mentioned before, I'm having a hard time suffering fools. I actually told them that they got ripped off and it was stupid to not only pay that much for a crib, but to pay full price. IQ responded, Well, this is a three-in-one crib and this way if we have another kid, they can use it. Yes, because if I buy a cheaper or used crib, I can't reuse it!!! The sad part: they take such bad care of their stuff that the crib will be trashed before they can even think of having another kid (which I pray to God they never do). I guess it's their money and they can do with it what they want, but good grief. I hope you can use that three-in-one crib until the kids turns 18.

Why having IQ can kill your brain

I'm sure many of you are aware that it is Labor Day weekend, which means, just about everyone gets Monday off from work. I was talking to IQ about the weekend, and she complained that Mr. IQ had a short weekend. I asked if he had duty this weekend (when they have to spend 24 hours on the ship, "guarding" it). She said no. I pointed out that he got Monday off, right?!? Yes, he does. Well, doesn't that mean he has a three day weekend when normally he would only have a two day weekend. Yes, yes it does. Well, doesn't that make it a long weekend, instead of a short weekend? But, she pointed out, he didn't get a whole week off. No, no he doesn't because it is called a weekEND, meaning, just the end of the week, not the entire week. And then my brain exploded.

I honestly think that she believes that if Mr. IQ wasn't in the Navy, he wouldn't ever have to go to work. Seriously.

The difficulties of cooking pasta

As this pregnancy moves along, and I get bigger and bigger, and more and more uncomfortable, I find it harder and harder to suffer fools. This makes it quite difficult to spend time with IQ, talk to IQ, think about IQ. So I thought if I told some IQ stories, it would make me feel better.

I first met IQ the week Wes and I eloped. There was a formal naval dinner (and I looked great!) for all the officers and their wives/girlfriends. Wes's ship is fairly small, so I literally met everyone there. When he introduced me to Mr. IQ and IQ, he mentioned I was working on my Ph.D. IQ looked at me, with all sincerity, and said, "hey that's cool, because I'm working on my bar tending licence." We moved away and I looked at Wes and asked, "Did she seriously just compare working on a Ph.D to getting a bar tending licence?" Yes, yes she did. I vowed that I would try to stay away from her after that.

The next interaction I had with her was more than a year later. The ship was deployed and our two husbands were being flown back to attend school in Rhode Island. Now, IQ doesn't drive, but like me, she wanted to spend some time with her husband. I offered to drive her back from Rhode Island. She couldn't help drive, but at least she could help me stay awake. I figured I would just make the best of it. I learned several things that day. First, she grew up in foster care because her parents didn't know how to take care of her. Second, she is aware that she is learning disabled (and blames everything she doesn't want to do on that, but that's a different story) and third, she wants to be a cook and start her own restaurant.

I love to cook! Great, we have something in common. We can talk about that!!! Yay!!! So, what do you like to cook? Her: Well, I've made soup before. Me: What kind of soup? Her: I don't remember. Me: um, ok, anything else? Her: I can make spaghetti. And that was the end of that conversation because apparently, that's all she knew how to cook.

After the guys completed the 6 week school, they had to go back to the ship. They were gone like 2 weeks before they got back. I took IQ to the pier to get the guys. She was very upset because her husband had duty, meaning, he wasn't able to come home. Her: I'm so mad!!! I can't believe he has duty. And I bought him his favorite Hungry Man for dinner too. So said the woman who wants to be a cook.

Over the next couple of months, I discovered that she doesn't actually cook ANYTHING!!! And what she does "cook" is stuff from the frozen food section and she microwaves it (including mashed potatoes. Who doesn't make their own mash potatoes?)!!! Several times I would tell her what "exotic" food I was cooking and she would complain that it took too long or was too hard or what is Indian food anyway. If you wanted to be a cook, wouldn't you actually cook stuff? Once she showed me the syllabus to the cooking school she wanted to attend (and I have to give her credit for actually taking the initiative and doing something, because, as my next IQ blog will show, she never actually does anything). I noticed that one of the classes was only about weights and measures. IQ had told me that she wasn't very good at math (actually, she told me her family had gotten her a leap frog math game to help her). I pointed out that that would be a very difficult class for her (and for me). She laughed and said that because of her disability, she didn't have to take the class and they would just have to understand that. I didn't feel the need to explain to her that that is NOT how the American with disabilities act works (after working at a university as a TA, I kind of know how it works). I knew she would never actually get to school anyway.

Fast forward ahead to this year. She wants me to come over for dinner. She is making spaghetti. I try to ignore the fact that her house is disgusting (more on that next post). I figured she knew how to make spaghetti, since she told me she did. I get there, there's a big pot of water on the stove. Every couple of minutes she would yell for Mr. IQ to come check the water to see if it was time to put the spaghetti in. Apparently, she can't tell when water is boiling. Finally, it was good enough. So she put it in. Then, after that, she kept yelling at him to tell her when it was done. She doesn't make her own sauce, she opened up a jar of sauce. Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with jarred sauce, except for the fact that she claims she wants to be a cook and she claimed that she knows how to make spaghetti. Then she made pudding, and again, had to ask Mr. IQ if it was done (it was instant pudding). Overall, a very interesting night. All I can say, if you ever see a restaurant owned by IQ, don't eat there.