Christmas Spirit

Sometimes I hate blogspot. Did you notice that the copy and paste function no longer works and it's nearly impossible to actually move a picture once it's in your blog? As a result, this blog is going to be even shorter than it was going to be originally. Merry Christmas! I have to go do laundry now.

Substitution, but not lacking

Yesterday I substituted for a high school Spanish teacher. One of the students was a very earnest, mature junior. She was half Russian, spoke fluent Russian and had taken 5 years of Spanish. Oh, to have had that type of advantage at her age. We talked, extensively about her career options, what she liked to do, what she didn't like, what colleges she might go to, what she might major in, what her parents wanted. She was so well spoken, so put together that I forgot she was a high school student. I thoroughly enjoyed speaking to her and at the end of class, thanked her for humoring me by talking to me. I was surprised when she thanked me, sincerely, for talking to her. That she felt better about her future and her options. And she hoped she would see me again. I really hope I do see her again.

That's my problem!

I finally figured out what my problem is. I was raised to be an ambitious woman. I was raised to be a goal-oriented woman. I was raised to accomplish great things. And right now? I have lost all direction. Since I was 15 years old the goal was to get my Ph.D. Well, that went out the window last year. And while I miss certain aspects of school, I really do feel better off without the hassle. But then I fell into a deep dark depression because I had nothing to focus on. Cue the baby desire. I redirected all my goals and ambitions towards creating a family, with new children. Children can grow up to be great adults, adults who credit their moms (and sometimes their dads) with how great they are. Now, well, my cervix has rebelled (oh, my dr.'s appointment got moved to Dec. 31st). Now I have nothing to focus all my ambition and intelligence and, most importantly, my greatness, on. I am lost.

I have decided, when people ask me what I can do with two MA's in the same subject, instead of hanging my head in shame and softly whispering "nothing," I will look them in the eye and declare, "Lord it over people who don't have two MA degrees." When people ask what I do, instead of claiming to be a temporary substitute, until I figure out what I really want to do, I will look them in the eye and declare, "I am the best damn substitute in Virginia Beach, and I am also an awesome wife!" There is no shame in enjoying where life has placed me. I will read books because I enjoy reading them, not because I bought them and so I should read them. I will enjoy crocheting because because it ties me to my grandma, and because I want people to know that I thought about them while I worked, not because there's some arbitrary deadline, like the birth of a baby or Christmas. I will enjoy cooking because it is fun, it is creative and I'm really good at it, dammit, and I want my husband to have a wonderful experience at dinner, not just gain sustenance. I will enjoy sex because it was created to be enjoyed! Screw what I know about my husband's past. Screw my past. And screw my husband like he's going to die tomorrow! I will exercise because I enjoy it, I enjoy looking good and having energy, not just because I have high cholesterol and I'm paying for a gym membership.

I will enjoy being me! Because I am smart, funny, talented and creative! Because I deserve to get to know who I am without all the goals, ambitions, and stress of always getting it done, doing it right and always needing something to brag about. This will be my year of NO STRESS, NO DEPRESSION, and NO WORRIES. This is going to be MY YEAR! I am going to be proud of who I am and what I do, even if you don't think it amounts to jack. Because you know what, I don't care what you think. This is going to be MY YEAR! That's my new mantra. Maybe you should try it to.

Party like you're in the navy!

I no longer have chunks. Therefore, I was able to attend the Navy Christmas party. The food was really good, the dessert table vast, and the dancing ok. As you can see, I was incredibly over-dressed. And by over-dressed I mean I wasn't dressed like I was attending the high school prom. There were more loose boobies at this thing than you would believe. But I had been sick, so I didn't want to risk getting cold. Besides, my husband still thinks I'm the best looking wife.

Us, actually out of the house and having fun.

Don't ask, don't tell, my ass!
Getting down and dirty with those freaky navy girls.
The only real friend I have here.

We had a great time. We drank (only a little bit), we danced and we laughed a lot. We didn't win any prizes, but we still had a great time. Next year I'm going to buy a holiday dress!

Immune System??? Hello?!?

I am sick again. With something completely different. I'm starting to think I don't have an immune system. Or that it is addicted to drugs or Perez Hilton, or something that makes it unable to do its job. It may even be offering advise: "Oh, hey bacteria, you know, she hasn't had a respiratory infection yet. Why don't you head to her lungs!" I spent yesterday morning at the doctor's instead of church. He tested me for: strep throat, mono, flu, and x-rayed me for pneumonia. I had to tell both the nurse and the doctor that no, my tonsils are NOT swollen, that is their normal size. He let me see my x-rays too. I had never had any taken, much less seen them. I don't have pneumonia. I have a simple upper respiratory infection, with chunks. He gave me two different medicines, both that have four warning stickers on them, and not one of them the same. I am now sensitive to extreme light, unable to drink alcohol, unable to take multi-vitamins or minerals and both medicines could make me drowsy and/or dizzy. Oh, and my favorite, if I take too much cough medicine, it could cause "serious breathing problems." I love medicines that fix the problem by possibly making it worse first. The doctor also checked my blood work to make sure I have an immune system. Apparently I do, it is just lazy and hates me. In the last 5 weeks, being ill has cost me $1500. I am supposed to be at work today and the rest of the week. Guess where I'm not? I'm going to go take a nap.

Starting next year's To Do list

I guess because it's the end of the year, I started thinking about New Year resolutions. Since I don't have any vices (snicker), my resolutions are more of To Do lists. Exercise 3 times a week, identify 4 new birds a month, read a book a week. That sort of thing. And then I figured, why wait? I mean, if I want to improve myself, my life and my family, why wait until the beginning of the year to fail, I mean, to succeed. This week, work has been rather slow, so I've managed to accomplish quite a few things: I went to the dentist (for the appointment that was originally scheduled in May); I got my hair done; I cooked something new (one of those things on the list, because I have 5 boxes of cookbooks and I really need to start using them); I got Christmas shopping done; I found out my pap smear was really abnormal and my husband and I will not be starting a family next year.

This is what is called irony. See, I never wanted biological kids. I wanted to adopt. But my husband, for some odd reason, thinks I'm the best thing since vanilla ice-cream (for him, that's heaven), and he wanted to have babies with me. And because I love my husband (and he has green eyes), I agreed. It's also a lot cheaper to have biological babies than adopt, and I'm kind of cheap (we're also broke, thanks to his x). And I was getting excited about it. Thinking about having an alien growing in me. And alien I could talk to, read to, sing to (but only when no one else was around because my singing sucks). I was looking forward to rubbing my belly and feeling little kicks (but only little kicks). I was looking forward to seeing what part of me (hopefully the love of reading) and what part of him (hopefully his vast intelligence) the baby have. Would it have green eyes, like both of us? Would it have blond hair, like we both had as a child? Would it be smart? Would it be happy? Would it be worth it? And now, I may never know.

But I have discovered I have amazing friends and family. I've gotten e-mails and phone calls from all over. They've offered to pray, to listen to me bitch and cry, offered to come help, and one even offered to be a surrogate mother, which is really nice, but kind of creepy. And this comforts me, knowing that these people love me.

Since we wanted to start a family, one of the things I wanted to do was strengthen my faith. I want my children to know that my belief in God lives beyond weekly church services. I want my children to know that I believe in a living, loving, awesome God. I had really been thinking about my favorite Old Testament story. It's in Daniel, chapter 3. The Hebrews had been exiled to Babylon, but many of the young men served as advisers for King Nebuchadnezzar. Nebuchadnezzar had this brilliant idea to build a huge gold statue of himself and then, when it was uncovered, everyone would have to bow down and worship it. Because he was so great. These three Hebrew men, Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego refused, because they worshipped God alone. Nebuchadnezzar was furious, and threatened to kill them, by burning them to death. Remember, these were men he knew personally. The men reply, "O Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter. If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, O king. But even if he does not, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up." (Daniel 3:16-18) But even if he does not. That is faith. Faith without glory, without praise, even, one might say, without purpose. That's the kind of faith I want. (If you want to know what happened to Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, you'll have to go read the story. At this point, the ending is not important to me.)

Dinner conversation

Over dinner, my husband and I discussed the end of the world, in relation to the Book of Revelations. I tend to be more of a literalist than my husband. He believes in alien life-forms and that even if the earth is destroyed, we will have colonized space first. I said that space is probably already filled with other, more intelligent life-forms. He replied that they were probably having this exact conversation right now. I replied that no, that they were probably tela-pathetic. Then I fell off my chair laughing so hard that I cried while my husband mocked me. We have great dinner conversations.

The Best Day Ever

Christmas is my favorite holiday. Growing up, it was the time of year when far flung relatives visited, when everybody behaved well, and it just seemed magical. There was the tree, the lights, and most importantly, the music. Christmas music still makes me cry (it also makes my husband cry when I sing to the Christmas music). The joy of giving and receiving gifts and knowledge that we were celebrating the birth of Jesus, all this just added to my happiness at this time of year. One of the many things I looked forward to, with my own family, was continuing some family traditions, and creating many more of our own. Now, I know that thanksgiving isn't even here yet, but with the step kids living three hours away, we'll probably only get them two or three more times before Christmas. Therefore, this weekend we set up and decorated our tree. I always wanted a blue and silver themed tree, so that's what we did.
I finally got to set up my Christmas village. I get a piece of this every year, but since I've always spent Christmas at "home" I've never set mine up. Yes, they're different sizes: that's because they're from different sets of grandmas and from different village sets. They're getting old and can't always remember what they've already given. Hence, Santa lives in a tract housing area; I have two of the same houses. I cut the duplicate out of the picture.
We also decided it would be a good idea to get the kids to get us, and each other, gifts. You know, trying to get them to think about the giving part of Christmas and not just the getting. So we did a little shopping, made easier by the fact that we also asked what they wanted (they have a list if you want to get them anything).

To top off this wonderful day, the Norfolk Botanical Gardens had a special preview of their Christmas lights for their members. It was amazing and the kids loved it (they wanted to go through it again, not the next time they're here, but right then).



The pumpkin pie I made from scratch didn't turn out (it didn't set), but I had also made brownies, which we enjoyed before we went to bed. And then, Praise the Lord! I realized that I could breathe and had been breathing all day. I was/am still blowing my nose every 15 minutes, but that's a huge improvement. Overall, I think it was probably the best day ever.

Snotfest 2007

Since my body has decided it is its purpose to create snot, I thought I might try to make some money off of it. You know, sell tickets and stuff. People can listen to my nose sing, watch it make enough snot in an hour to fill an elementary school for a week, and watch the amazing feat of me eating without dying from lack of oxygen (although this last part might really gross some people out). Yes, I am on antibiotics. No, they are not working. Neither are the prescription decongestants. I finally convinced my brain that I would not die in my sleep, and at least now I can sleep. But at this point, I really don't know what else to do. I'm tired of being sick, my house is a wreck, I haven't worked in two weeks, but I have lost some weight, so I guess there is a bright side. And if you want tickets to snotfest, just let me know, I'll teach my nose some more tricks.

Guess who's on antibiotics?

I'm on antibiotics. I thought I could make it through. I knew I had a virus and I wasn't going to waste time in the doctor's office to find that out. Only, sinus infections run in the family (no, I don't know how that works, but we all get them and we get them bad). Last Thursday and Friday I was feeling much better. And I was optimistic that I was stay better. I even told Camille I was finally planning on busting out the sexy halloween costume out that I had bought (and still haven't worn). But Saturday, things went downhill quickly on Saturday. And Sunday, when I woke up, I felt like I had a semi-truck parked on my face. Always a sign of a sinus infection. My doctor is open 7 days a week, so while my husband drove the kids back home (Victor was sick too), I went to the doctor's. It was confirmed I had a sinus infection and I got my antibiotics. And this weird little warning I've never seen before. "Be aware that this is a potentially serious problem. An infection in this location could spread to the brain." Um, ok. I've never been warned that I could potentially get a brain fever from a sinus infection before, but I guess that's good to know. While I was at the doctors, I had them redo my pap smear too. Last time I had that done, the doctor didn't get enough tissue. How nice. Because I love getting pap smears. So now, I'm back to bed. I'm tired of being sick, but hopefully, with the help of science and medicine, this really will be the last week I'm sick.

Tonsilwhatis?

Backstory: Wes's parents had health insurance when he was growing up, so he had his tonsils removed. My parents didn't and were told that wrapping dental floss around my oft infected tonsils, in an attempt to remove them, would be considered child abuse. I still have tonsils.

Him: Have you figured out what you have?
Me: Well, I have giant white patches on my tonsils and throat, so I think it's probably tonsillitis.
Him: What is that? Are you going to go to the doctor?
Me: It's an infection of the tonsils. I'm not going to go to the doctor because it's a virus, so they can't do anything anyway.
Him: I don't have tonsils.
Me: I know.
Him: So I can't get it, right?
Me: Well, since it is a virus, you could probably still get it. It would just settle in a different part of your body.
Pause
Him: Like my testicles?
Me (in all my sarcastic glory): Yes, it could settle in your testicles and then they would have to cut them off.
Him: I think I'll just kiss you on the cheek until you feel better.

This is the falling part of fall

I love work. I hate work. I love making money and feeling that I am contributing more than just my brains and beauty to my marriage (although, that it a considerable contribution). I love the fact that my husband finds my puny paycheck to be gigantic (thank you x for never, ever working). I love getting out of the house. I love, love, love the kids. I hate getting up at 5:30 in the morning because high school starts at 7:30am. I hate getting home tired and cranky. I hate getting home tired and cranky to a messy house, with no clean clothes and having to prepare dinner. I hate not having a set schedule. But I love having a flexible schedule and the ability to decide when I want to work. I took yesterday off.

I needed the sleep (I slept 10 hours, a hard 10 hours). I realized that substituting is probably not the healthiest job choice out there. This epiphany occurred as I examining my left tonsil, which is currently twice as big as the right one. I need to get a flu shot. When I finally woke up yesterday, I did my pilates (to help me fit back into my pants), cleaned the kitchen and living room, did laundry. Then I went shopping for pants that don't cut off my circulation when I sit down. I found two pair and a skirt. Now my comfortable wardrobe consists of a black pair of pants, a black skirt, a khaki pair of pants, a khaki skirt. Thankfully, I rarely substitute at the same school more than twice a week. I also finished my latest afghan. It is pretty. You will just have to take my word for it because I feel too lazy to get up and take a picture of it right now. Overall, yesterday was a good day. We didn't have very many trick-or-treaters, which means there's a ton of candy downstairs (I guess I should be doing pilates twice a day, or I may not fit into my new pants very long).

My loose leaf tea just arrived!!! I love loose leaf tea. It tastes better, it is waaaaaay cheaper and it's better for the environment. If it's any good, I'll put up the web page.

I realized yesterday I hadn't blogged about the fact that I haven't been on anti-depressants for about three week now. I didn't mention it because I don't feel any different. At all. I can't tell even the slightest difference. And that makes me very, very happy.

Blogging, pot-luck style

Per Beth's request, here are my beautiful boots with my gorgeous matching purse. I also have a shorter pair of red boots in the same color (but they're from pay less). While hunting in my closet, I realized I have 5 (FIVE) pair of knee-high boots, and about 8 pairs of shorter boots (maybe more). I love me some nice boots. Feel free to feel jealous!


Victor also received an afghan from my grandma. He finally got it on the 18th when we celebrated his 10th birthday (he still wears size 5 pants, although I noticed they were getting too short). Victor's favorite colors are red and blue, and he is in the cub scouts. He was very impressed with his afghan, especially the star, although he kept referring to it as his "afghanistan". When I would correct him, he would then pronounce it like my grandma does, afaghan. I guess it runs in the family.


My parents visited from the 18th to the 22nd. The kids stayed with us from the 16th to the 20th. We took the kids to the Virginia Living Museum in Newport News. If you have kids and are in the area, you must go. It is a wonderful museum. It has both indoor and outdoor components, with living animals in both places. These represent the animals that live in Virginia, explains about ecosystems and talks about environmentalism and why it's important. All on a kids' level while still being incredibly interesting for adults. The best part, the whole thing only took about 3 hours. Long enough to keep everyone entertained without getting cranky and tired. Here's just a few of the very cool things we saw.
I don't know that I had ever seen a beaver before. They are so much fun to watch.

When I was married to my first husband, we lived in a trailer. One day, the dryer hose popped off, and one of these (a baby) popped his head into our trailer. It was a little spooky (and my cat freaked out). I will never live in a trailer again.

There was a ton of hands-on stuff, including this giant tortoise shell. I wanted my mom to get in it, but she refused. Spoil-sport. Overall, we had a great time.

The visit from my parents was wonderful and I really enjoyed it. But we had had the kids the week before, and Wes's dad had been here and I had worked. When my parents left, I just wanted to sleep. I had a few jobs this week, two part-time, two full-day. Again, I loooooove Junior High. I am really surprised by this, but every time I substitute for them, I feel happy. Every time I substitute for high school, I go home feeling drained and slightly angry. I never would have known this though, if my advisor hadn't kicked me out of school.

We've been going over our finances again. When we married, my husband did not realize he had $70,000 worth of credit card and consolidation loan debt. He's in the navy and gone a lot and he just didn't know. More than half of that was debt from the ex-wife, the rest was his own stupidity. Well, we now have less than $30,000 in debt. We've been married for a little over a year and a half. He just got a raise and with me working (even if not a lot), we should have this paid off in another year and a half. At least I hope so. (I should add that he received a $23,000 bonus last year that went straight towards the debt. We will not be receiving another bonus for at least 2 years.)

That's about it here. I'm just cleaning and doing laundry and I trying to figure out what I'm going to cook for dinner. I hope everyone is doing well, and if you just need a pick-me-up, go look at my beautiful boots and purse!

I've got to get more jobs like this

Guess what I'm doing right now, as I'm typing this. Go on, guess. If you said I was getting paid for substituting while blogging from the comfort of my own home, you would be correct! Some teachers, usually the foreign language ones, teach at more than one school. The teacher I'm subbing for today does. There are 2 hours and 15 minutes in between when I left the first school and when I have to be at the second school. And I'm getting paid for all of them. So I came home, made lunch, made cookies, read e-mail, read blogs, called my mom and now I'm blogging. I definitely need more substituting jobs like this. Now, if you'll excuse me, there are peanut butter cookies downstairs called my name.

She went that way

I was going to update my blog tomorrow, along with pictures of the kids and purse with boots, but I just got another job. We've been spending ridiculous amounts of money (ok, not really, but we've had a lot of company which always means spending money, and it was Victor's birthday), so I really have to take any job that comes along. I will update on Sunday, as my husband will be working on that day. Meanwhile, I miss everyone and I will come back.

Fortune's Rocks

I had three days break in between the children's visits. I read a book. I will now review that book, because I have not yet downloaded the pictures from the awesome past week with my parents and kids.

I read Fortune's Rocks by Anita Shreve. This is a very poignant book about love, love lost, and the sacrifices we make for those we love. The book's central character, Olympia, age fifteen, lives in the final days of the 19th century. One summer, when with her parents at their summer home in Fortune's Rocks, she begins an affair with her father's close friend and associate, a man who is almost three times her age and married with four children. Their relationship is a loving and passionate one. Unfortunately, they are caught red-handed, at her 16th birthday party, no less, by his wife. Several months later, Olympia discovers she is pregnant.

This first part of the book causes quite the moral quandary. He is married and she is still a child, yet the story is so well written that you can feel their love through the pages. It is not based on physical desire alone, in fact, their intense physical passion results from their intellectual understanding of one another (she is incredibly well educated for a woman). After their child is born, he is taken away, where, she has no clue. She doesn't know if her lover even knew of her pregnancy. She suffers this loss intensely and spends the next four years trying to make up for the intense disappointment she has become to her parents. But she never repents of her actions. She wishes she could undo the hurt caused to everyone, but she cannot convince herself that the love she felt was, or ever would be, wrong. After four years of exile, she feels that she has lost herself and returns to Fortune's Rocks, by herself, to heal.

While in Fortune's Rocks she discovers that her son is there, that her lover placed him in an orphanage and that he is in foster care. She follows the family and discovers that although the family is poor, they love her son very much. She must decide: does she try to remove her son from the only family he has ever known and loved because she wants him, or does she let him remain with them. The court scenes are wrenching, her longing for her son, palpable. I will not tell you what happens in the last part of the book. I will tell you it has a "happy" ending. Not a sitcom happy ending, but an, all things considered, happy ending. Overall, a great book. I couldn't put it down and Olympia was a wonderful character to watch mature and evolve. I would highly recommend this book.

Hi-ho and beyond

We had the kids last week. We had a father-in-law last week. I worked full-time last week. My husband worked ungodly navy hours last week. My step-son was on new ADHD medicine last week. Do I really need to tell you how much fun it was?

My grandma had crocheted afghans for the kids. I told her Allison loved the color pink. Which she does. My grandma took that to an extreme. You may need sunglasses for the next picture.

Give your eyes a few minutes to re-adjust before trying to read. Needless to say, Allison loved her afghan. Her afghan that can be seen from space. Her afghan that glows in the dark. Her afghan, that is indeed, pink as pink can be.

As I mentioned, Wes's dad was here last week. He "watched" the kids while we both worked. I put watched in quotations because he watched TV downstairs while they played upstairs (and tore the blinds apart). I don't know why he even bothered. He kept saying he needed to take them to the store to buy them birthday presents. He never did. He said he would just mail us a check and we could buy them. But we don't have time for that, and he has never mailed us a check, even though we have bought presents to be from him since we got married. Whatever.

After everyone left we decided we needed to wind down just a little bit. We went to a wildlife refuge to bird watch. It was one we'd never been to before. It was on the beach. It was beautiful. We saw two new birds. And as we walked the boardwalk through the dunes, discussing what kind of wildlife they must have, we looked up and saw this.

It wasn't completely tame or anything, but as long as we stood quietly, he didn't mind our presence. Whatever he was eating must have been good. He let us get very close.

It was really cool. Although it makes me worry about him when deer hunting season starts. But it was a great way to spend the day. The weather has been beautiful and it is bird migration season. And who doesn't love to spend time with their spouse.

Money has been a little tight. The navy has made a few errors on my husband's paychecks, along with recent travel, and we're really watching what we spend right now. With me working more and once the navy fixes the errors (he was supposed to get a rather large raise, but his paycheck was smaller than normal. How does that work?), we will be fine. But, with me working, I need new fall clothes. I have gained about 10 pounds since I moved here (that's a whole other blog). I don't have any dress pants that fit, and while the weather is beautiful, it is fall weather. The capri's just don't work anymore. The other day, I went to the store, and they had a sale going on. But not on pants. On purses. And I haven't bought a really nice purse in ages. And this purse was beautiful, and red, and more than 2/3 off its normal price. Behold its beauty and charm. I may have to work with no pants, but no one will notice because they will be admiring my beautiful new purse (I also have matching red boots that I bought last year).

Now I have to clean up last week's mess because my parents will be here tomorrow. At least they do more than sit on the couch all day.

The cat's meow

After War and Peace I thought I might take a break from Russian literature. But my friend Sarah has been bugging me for years to read Mikhail Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita and said it would be a great read after the crap that was War and Peace. Boy, was she right.

The Master and Margarita takes place in Moscow during the Stalin era of terror (specifically the 1930s, since most of the Stalin era was an era of terror). This book is so magnificent, I don't really know how to describe it. Bulgakov uses fantasy to reveal the corruption and lack of artistic freedom in the Soviet Union. Satan lands in Moscow, along with his bizarre crew, and causes total chaos in the artistic community. We find out that his goal is to "save" the Master, a writer, who was institutionalized after he wrote a book about Jesus and Pontius Pilate. Intrigued yet? This book will make you think for days and days. If you don't know much about Soviet history, it might make you head to your local library to learn why this book was banned for 26 years after it was written. And when you finish reading it, you know you'll have to read it again, because you missed something. As for me, I'm going to start looking for Bulgakov's work, because he is indeed a Master.

Don't shoot my mom!

I have been getting more and better sleep. But last night, last night was bad. My husband had duty, which means he didn't come home. I either sleep better than normal or not at all when he has duty. Last night was a not at all. And I woke up with a headache. And during the few precious moments I did sleep, I dreamt that my ex-husband shot my mom. It was disturbing.

I am slowly coming off my anti-depressants. I have been fine, but Saturday and Sunday, I freaked out. It was more money anxiety than depression. But I don't want to stay on the meds, so this week I called the school district and broadened the range of classes I am willing to substitute for. This will keep me busy, giving me less time to worry, and it will bring in more money. Thus, killing two birds with one stone. I already lined a job for all of next week.

My father in law and my step-children are arriving tonight for a week. Like I don't have enough to do. Wes was going to try to get time off, but with his new job, that's not going to happen. I hope Wes's dad was serious when he said he would watch the kids while I worked, because as I mentioned, I have a job every single day next week. Noooooooo, I didn't plan to be gone all the time when the house was chaotic. It just happened that way! The kids will be here a week, go home for the weekend, and then come back for a week (they're in year-round school). My parents will also be visiting the following week. October is going to be a busy month. That's ok though. I like busy.

I am crocheting an afghan for my grandma. I am very excited about this, but a little stressed out. She's been crocheting for 30 years. Hers will be the fourth afghan I crochet. I want it to be beautiful. Just like the 5 afghans we brought back with us and I shoved under the kids' bed, because we live in Virginia Beach and we already had at least 10 afghans. Maybe I should really crochet her 20 afghans!

In other disturbing news. Remember that other officer's wife, the one who is just a little bit slow (no, I am not being mean, she really does have a low IQ and she is aware of it). She is pregnant. And she is in shock that she is pregnant, even though she wasn't using birth control (I told you she was slow). She is freaking out. So we've been hanging out a lot (she doesn't have a driver's licence either). I'm a little jealous. I want to be pregnant but we have to wait to try because of the stupid navy. And then I'm afraid I won't get pregnant. I guess I should just quit worrying about it. There's not a whole lot I can do about it anyway.

We have new neighbors. They are nice. I like them a lot. I think we have new friends.

Have a great weekend. I'm going to go take a nap while I can.

I am a zombie

The trip to Minnesota was wonderful. They were in the midst of an Indian Summer, so some of the tress had begun to turn colors, but it was still warm. It was also extremely windy.
We hiked a couple of different days. We identified a bird we hadn't seen before. But even cooler, we watched a Red-tailed Hawk fly around with a snake in its talons. Minnesota is beautiful and if it weren't so cold in the winter, I would consider living there.

My grandma loved Wes. I didn't get to see as much of my family as I wanted (maybe next time Amynda!) but I did get to see my cousin, who had just had a baby.

Can you hear my biological clock over the internet? I really want one NOW, but my husband tells me there's a waiting period of 9 months. Since the lovely navy is taking him away from me again next spring, we're hoping to time things so he'll be home. I really hope it happens the way we want it to. Overall, the trip was great, even though we got stuck in Chicago for while. But when we got home, all hell broke loose.

My husband's new work schedule: 4 am to about 4 pm. I am so tired. Why? Because he wants me to go to bed with him at 8:00pm. Only I'm not tired. So I just lay there forever. And then when I do fall asleep, I wake up every hour because I'm afraid he won't wake up when his 3 alarms go off at minute and a half intervals, and then when they go off 5 to 9 minutes later, depending on the length of the snooze. It's only after he leaves for work, at 3:30am, that I'm able to fully fall asleep. That doesn't leave me a lot of actual sleep. But it gets worse, for Wes, not me.

The day after we got back, Wes's boss got fired. And Wes got his job (temporarily). In the military rank does not equal position. But today, Wes got promoted (see picture above). The promotion includes a pay raise (yay!), the new job doesn't (boo!). So now he has more work, crappy work hours and he's in graduate school. He's one tired puppy. Gotta love the navy.