Dear Blog, I Missed You!

We're home! Hurray! I missed my bed. It's so much more comfortable than any other one that I've ever slept on. I don't know what I'm going to do when I buy a bigger bed. Finding one this comfy is going to be really hard.

So the trip was long. Good, but long. I obviously didn't get to see my family in Midland. I won't complain about that too much for fear I'll just become bitter about it.



So without further ado, the results from this trip. You can decide whether they're good or bad for yourself:

~My kids have foam swords.
~Alex is officially forward-facing.
~Kairi used the potty and only the potty on the trip home.
~My kids have matching rubber balls. You know the ones -- big bin at WalMart -- swirly colors on them.
~Alex's favorite word is "off" which can mean off, out, up, down, or in.
~Alex knows how to take disposable diapers off.
~My car is still in Texas. We have my mil's truck.
~I have my kids' toy chest back. Finally.
~My husband almost died when he suggested not taking the (empty) toy chest with us.
~Kairi can kick the seat in front of her hard enough to force it to go forward one notch.
~I read 2 1/2 books.


One other noteworthy thing -- if you volunteer to watch someone's house and they tell you that the key is in the lockbox on the frontdoor and then give you the combo to the lockbox, then for all that is good in this world, don't take the key out of the lockbox and put it on your key chain, and if you do put it back the day you know that the family is returning home. That key was supposed to be there in case my landlord had to have immediate access. And it's the only key we've got right now. Kairi did not appreciate getting home just for us to have to load her back up in the truck to go get the key. As a matter of fact, she screamed no at the top of her lungs while kicking and throwing things the entire 20 minute drive to the house where my key was being held hostage. She passed out on the way back. I will not complain any more than that about the key. My friend did clean up the dog's messes for an entire week and did quite a bit for us. I just wish that I hadn't had to go get my key when the lockbox was a perfectly safe place to keep it.

My Funeral Week Vent

First of all, I'm not back yet. I will be eventually. But I have to vent.


Chris, I said I'd have to vent about you before long. Here goes.

1. Don't tell me that the only reason we're not going to Midland to see MY family is because we don't have the money when your real reason is you just don't want to. I will find out ... perhaps when I have over $500 from various family memebers offer to give us money so that we can come down. And no, me driving by myself (with or without the kids -- neither is acceptable) is not going to work. I will not be in that car for that period of time without you there. It's broken down on me multiple times in the past. I'm not risking it again. The next time it breaks down on the road, you WILL be there. So man up and either tell me the truth the first time, or load your butt up in the car and go with me.

2. We were at YOUR grandmother's funeral. I knew your grandfather (the grieving husband), your parents, and your brother and sil. I had met 2 other people there, of the 50+ present. I knew no one. Thank you for not introducing me to ANYONE. For walking away from me on multiple occasions so that I was lost in the sea of people I didn't know -- that pretty much guarantees a panic attack. Thank you for not caring that I didn't get to eat 2 meals that day because I was taking care of YOUR children while you ate a large breakfast and then 2 helpings and a dessert for lunch. Do you know why I finally got to eat? Your great-great aunt insisted on making me a plate and watching the kids for 15 minutes because she realized that I had had no food. Suddenly your mom and your aunt were really worried when they realize that as well. You sat next to me and watched me scarf food down so that I could take your kids off of your great-great aunt's hands and didn't lift a finger to help either of us.

3. Again, I knew NO ONE there. Panic attacks extreme. You noticed not a one.

4. There were 4 guys in the car. You, your dad, your brother, and your 15 1/2 month old son. Out of the 3 of you who are responsible (supposedly) adults, at least one of your should have been able to remember that there was a baby in the carseat when you got to the cemetary. I don't care that you weren't sitting next to him. I don't care that he was asleep and therefore quiet. He is your SON, and he was your responsibility. The next time you leave him in the car, I will kill you. And no, you will never live this down. It is the absolute worst thing you could have done. And I will tell this story over and over and over and over and over again. Because you should have known better.
(For the record, he was in the car by himself no more than 5 minutes, and it was only 60 degrees, and they were in the shade. I quickly realized that none of the boys had him and threw a fit. They all know better now.)

5. I'm sorry that there is only one room that all 4 of us have to sleep in at your parent's house. And I'm sorry that the kids are loud in their sleep. But we're all not sleeping well. I'm probably sleeping the worst because I'm the one up and down all night long. Stop complaining about being tired. We all are. When we get home and get to sleep in our own rooms in our own bed it'll all be ok again. Well, for you, because I'll still be up and down all night long w/ at least one kid.

6. I told you about my grandad having pneumonia again as soon as I could. I didn't tell you when I first found out because we were driving to the cemetary. Then you avoided me all day. I finally saw you the next morning. I told you when I saw you. No, I wasn't trying to blackmail you into going to Midland, but I did want you to know why I was hurt that we weren't going. He's sick. Not my fault, but if I don't get to see him and something happens .... I will be upset with you for a long time.

7. I am not a single parent. I don't enjoy being one. I have to be one from time to time when you're gone, but that should be the only time I'm one. Man up and do your job. You change diapers at home, so you can do it in front of your brother and dad. You discipline at home, so you can do that in front of your brother and dad as well. You help put the kids to bed at home, do it HERE.

8. And finally, this one may seem petty, but when you knew that it would be 30 minutes before I could listen to you play the guitar because I was trying to get your kids to sleep, why couldn't you wait those 30 minutes? Seriously now. I just wanted to listen to you play. Instead I had to run in and out of the house, catch snippets of the songs, and get dirty looks from everyone because I was so distracting. It was not my fault that I had to keep going to the guest house to make sure that your son didn't climb out of his bed again. When they were finally asleep, I got to sit and listen. But by then you were just about done. Thanks again.





No, you were not absolutely terrible. But my feelings got hurt. Thank you for trying to make up for it all today. I appreciate it. I still hurt though. I hope that tomorrow's a better day. I love you ... but man, you've gotta stop pulling this crap around your family. I want them to know the good husband that you've proven you can be.

The Call Came

The call came last night. Although, "action" wasn't truly called until this morning. Chris is getting his emergency leave chit and talking to the Navy and Marine Relief Society. I'm cleaning like crazy and packing as quickly as I can.


So the post about a great weekend will have to wait. Which we probably all know means that it won't happen.

I might have time to update on the trip, but probably not. And if I do, it'll happen on the family blog so that I'm not sharing this blog with family that don't necessarily need to read it.

Have a good week or so!

Date Night!

Read last night's post -- I was angry.

But right now, I'm really excited and busy! Chris and I have been planning another date night since the beginning of December. Things kept happening and they never happened, until tonight!

We have a babysitter coming. I'm going to dress up. We're probably only going somewhere cheap and MAYBE to a movie. But either way, we're going out. WITHOUT KIDS! YAYAYAYAYAYAYAY!

:D

Now here's my problem. I was lazy yesterday. My house is a disaster. And I have someone coming HERE to watch the kids. So today I'm busy. I have to get this place clean!

I just can't do it....

I have tried so many times to write a funny post about the incident this evening at our Kids' Night at a local restaurant. But I can't.




I don't care if your child is 8-9 years, when they're standing in line for a face painting, you should probably at least keep your eyes on them. You definitely shouldn't be standing at the back of the store, chatting on the phone with your back to your child, when you're in store full of strangers. And when your child bullies my TWO YEAR OLD because my TWO year old doesn't understand how to stand in line yet, then don't get pissed off at me when I reprimand her.

My daughter had waited through 14 other kids from the time we walked into the store until the time when she finally got to sit down. That takes a LOT of patience from a two year old. She did her best. We waited directly in line behind 7 little girls. She watched princesses and puppies and monsters, and even an octopus, emerge from the magical face painting chair. She was dancing in anticipation and begging to go next. So when she stepped out of line a few times to see the next face being painted, your child had NO right to push her to the back of the line. And when your daughter does that, I will immediately put my daughter back in her place. Besides, I was really proud of how well Kairi did do -- she wasn't running circles through the place, there was no crying or fits thrown, she didn't even push anyone out of her way. She was just jumpy and a little whiney. Not too shabby for a 2 1/2 year old drama queen.

I don't care what she told you. She was lying. I didn't steal your daughter's spot. I kept her from stealing my own child's spot. There were other parents around -- you know, parents that actually watch their kids -- and they backed me up. There was no way that my daughter would have understood why this person who hadn't been waiting near as long as she had suddenly got to go first. There would have been a meltdown the size of Texas in that store. People would have been hurt. Your daughter would have been one of those people, I can almost guarantee.

So hang up your cell phone. Stand up and walk out of your corner on the far side of the store. WATCH YOUR CHILD WHEN SHE'S STANDING IN LINE. Really, for all you know, someone could have run off with her and you would have never known.


And more than all of that, don't try to bully me for keeping your child from bullying my daughter.

Dear Chris,

I know that it's my own fault that you're reading this blog. I left it open on the computer. So I'm not upset that you do at all. In fact, it might be a good thing because we rarely exchange the day's stories so this is a good way for you to see what's going on when you're not home. Especially when you're underway.

But here's my disclaimer (man, I HATE disclaimers but I feel like I must give it nonetheless):

This is my space for my personal thoughts. You are in those thoughts. Usually it's good that you're in those thoughts. But on those days where I'm upset with you, I have the right to share those thoughts. You may not like or agree with them. But I get to share them anyway. You may think I over exaggerated or was overly emotional, but I'm the one telling this story, not you. So it's my side. If you want your side shared, please start a blog. I'll be happy to read it. I'll even link over to your blog if you so desire. But since we both know that you won't start a blog, and even if you did you would never update it, then I guess I don't have to worry about that.

I really am glad you're reading but I wanted to share this disclaimer BEFORE you got upset about me venting about you. Because we both know it'll happen. ;)

Love,
Steph

The Brother Bully

My daughter is a bully.

Immediately after naps I hand out the afternoon snack. Today it was a fruit chew snack. Both kids love them, but never think it's enough. Alex has learned the trick of slowly eating them -- one at a time. But Kairi still devours her snacks.

Today Kairi had her food polished off within minutes. Alex was still savoring his food. Kairi looked around her, spotted Alex's snack, and walked up to him hand extended. "Mine, Fruffar. Give to me." And without blinking, he handed his snacks over!

He then immediately ran to me with tears streaming down his face and his hand extended in his special "I want" sign.

I of course retrieved his snack and she got in trouble for taking something that didn't belong to her. She tried to tell me that Brother should have shared with her, but I won the argument. She had already had hers; she couldn't have his too.

Waiting for that call...

My family is waiting. Simply waiting. We're waiting for that call. The phone will ring, clearly as a director calling action in a studio, and my family, the actors in this play, will spring into motion.



Chris or I will quietly remind his mother to call the Red Cross to send an emergency message to the ship. He'll meet that message at the ship and type up his emergency leave request.

I'll pull the last clean load of laundry out of the dryer and quickly find whatever is in it that I need to pack in the almost full bags that wait by the front door.

Chris and I will visit with the Navy and Marine Relief Society, while kids crawl all over us as we try to explain why we have to get to Texas, that day. Hopefully we'll leave there with the funds to make it all the way.

I'll rush through the house when we get back to pack up the car. I'll be washing the last dirty dishes as quickly as I can. I'll scrub the bathroom that the cat's litter box is in and quickly throw every toy I can find into toy boxes.

Chris will begin loading bags into the car, trying to make sure that there is enough room for Tiger to lay down in the back. She'll be traveling with us.

I'll make the phone calls I need to make here in Florida. Someone to feed the cat and the fish. Make sure that the fish food is somewhere they can find it. Put the key in the lock box.

And then we'll load up the car. I'm sure that Alex will be fussing about having to sit in the car seat. Kairi will cheer "Tes-es! Tes-es!" not comprehending how long the trip to Texas will really take.

14-20 hours later (you never know how long when you travel with kids...), we'll be there. We'll get to Chris' parents' house, and collapse in the guest bed. I'm sure once we're there, or maybe on the way there, we'll remember all the things we didn't get packed. Kairi's "princess" shoes? Her dress? Maybe the pack'n'play? Or perhaps Alex's favorite blanket and horse? I know we won't forget Day because we wouldn't make it out of Jax before Kairi would be crying for Day and her pink (pink fuzzy blanket).

During our trip, Chris' mother and I will trade phone calls, trying to make sure that someone can take care of the kids. Or at least, Kairi. Alex is too young to ask questions or understand. But Kairi would shout her questions and understand just enough to scare her. Can you imagine during the service, Kairi shouting "Hey guy! What you doing?!?" to the preacher? Or her yelling "Fruffar! Let's crawl!" and then shooting under the pews to the front. She would crawl from one loving lap to another, and ask them why they were crying. She would wipe at the tears on Nana's, Papa's, and Pop-pop's faces and tell them to smile. She would never understand why they didn't obey. I don't want her to look into the casket and then look at me and ask "Mommy, Why Grandma sleeping? Tell her to wake up! WAKE UP GRANDMA! WAKE UP!" And most of all, I don't want one of her first memories to be her great-grandmother's face in a casket. That's a scary memory to have -- I know it dearly.


Throughout the entire trip, the trip to the funeral, the trip to Midland (maybe?), and the trip back to Jax, I know that I'll be anxious for the director to finally call cut. And it will happen, the phone will ring, this time on my mil's end, and when she picks up the phone to hear me say that we're home, I'll hear it whispered in my ear "Cut -- You're home Stephanie. Now, get those babies to bed."

Last night...

Last night I should have been taking my Mary Kay inventory.
Last night I should have been working on hostess packets.
Last night I should have been making booking calls.

Instead, last night I read 2 short stories out of the 8th grade lit book that I taught, and then wrote a lesson plan for each. It was so much more satisifying. I wanted to get up the next day and teach it. I wanted to search out the materials I needed and find that perfect newspaper article for it. I wanted to set up a classroom just perfectly for each lesson. I was replanning grade systems and classroom management based off of my last year teaching and newer experiences in my head. I was brainstorming ideas on 4 and 6 week units.

But I should have been planning skincare classes. *sigh*

Maybe I need to rethink my priorities and look into my options.