Sunday Scones

I thought I would celebrate this morning. It's our first Sunday as a family back in our house, and I wanted to make some Blackberry Lemon Scones with some beautiful blackberries I found at the commissary. But this isn't really a blog about scones and I really hate when people write these long blogs with the recipe aaalllll the way down at the bottom. So if you opened this hoping to find a delicious Blackberry Lemon Scone Recipe, you can find that here. I used lemon instead of lime and my advice to you is not to pop the blackberries when you stir, if you can help it. They will still be delicious, just purple.

As I was saying, I was trying to celebrate. I've been having a rough time lately. I haven't been able to focus on much, except for my brother, and I've been on this hamster wheel in my brain that takes my brain in a circle back to my brother, no matter what I'm doing. To the point that I had to withdraw from my classes, just because I couldn't. It's been a nice break from the hamster wheel to plan some changes in our house, set up the space to function for our family again, and make it pretty (duh.) It feels so good to be back in our own house, it's been so helpful for processing the events of the last few weeks, and what better way than to celebrate with freshly baked goodies in my kitchen?

I'm not sure if it's the same in other houses, but the kids never want to be right next to me more than when I am in the kitchen. This morning was no different. I had four little ducklings quacking at my feet. They always ask me a million times what I am making and I always answer until the tenth or so time where I usually get annoyed and make a rude comment about already answering that question. Then, they like to pester me by asking for other types of food. This cycle happens almost three times a day in our house. With. Out. Fail. This morning it sounded like this: "Mom, can I have a cracker?" "Not right now, I'm cooking." "Can I have goldfish [crackers]?" "No." "Can I have a graham cracker?" "No." "((Whining)) BUT I WAAAANNT A CRAAACCKKKER!" "I said no. Get out of my kitchen. I'm making beautiful blackberry lemon scones, Why would you want a cracker?! If you could just WAIT a few minutes and let me cook, I will give you something so much BETTER!"

Sometimes I hear God when I'm running. Sometimes when I'm praying. But mostly, When I feel His educating tap on my shoulder, it is when I am annoyed with, and talking to, my children. It's almost as if He's the knowing Father behind me, clearing his throat at something obvious that I've been completely unaware of. How many times have I *begged* Him for a measly cracker when He's been busy making something more beautiful? How many times have I stopped His progress in the 'kitchen' because of something *I* wanted?

This revelation makes me think of my brother. ((I may be able to take breaks from the hamster wheel, but I'm still on it.)) How much of God's beautiful work was interrupted by my brother's choice to take his own life? God is faithful to us, it says so in many places in the bible. He can redeem us, make us new. He makes beauty from ashes - IN ANY SITUATION. You just have to accept His help and wait.

So I say to you, Don't interrupt the chef. If you're in a dark place, or waiting place, or unsure place. If you are staring at a cracker, *begging* for a cracker because that is all that is in front of you right this second,

JUST WAIT.

He's working on something SO MUCH BETTER for YOU.

"Wait for the LORD;
be strong and TAKE HEART
and wait for the LORD." ~Psalms 27:14

Image Source

Megs

Silence

For a long time I haven't been able to talk out loud about my little brother. The truth is, I couldn't even speak of him without crying. I didn't know what to say, or how to stay it, and so, I just didn't. I've sat down to write his story so many times and every time I would get hung up on the fact that it wasn't really my story to tell, and delete the whole post.

Terry was diagnosed with PTSD before he was honorably discharged, after serving a four year term in the Army. He was very symptomatic. He was disabled at 70% due to PTSD in 2013.
In the seven years since his separation, his mental health has decreased at an impossible rate. The last three years have been exceedingly hard on our family.

In his sickness, my brother demanded that we not talk about him. He told me once to forget he ever existed and to move on. It's so hard because nothing I write here could ever be enough of an explanation. Our silence about him and his condition was done out of love. We felt we were giving him what he needed: time to heal, on his own terms. In reality we should have been fighting with him, for him, more.

On February 5th, 2016, my brother was found hanged in his kitchen. Less than one week after being released from a VA Behavioral Health Inpatient facility, alone. Exactly one week after the social worker in that hospital dismissed my mothers concerns for his follow up care and told my mother that they had a "care plan" and she needed to let them "do their job." Six days from being sent home alone, ON A SHUTTLE BUS, with a piece of paper labeled "care plan" on which he stated he would call "NO ONE" if he was feeling bad. A paper that also stated his PTSD disability, his severe depression, suicidal state, and anxiety, that was also signed by THREE DIFFERENT MENTAL HEALTH EMPLOYEES.

He went home alone with that stupid piece of paper, that "care plan",

and he hung himself.

My brother. A son. An uncle. A cousin. A friend. A VETERAN OF TWO WARS. Someone who was more loved by so many people than he even understood or could grasp.

My BROTHER.

I may not have understood. I may have been silent then, I may have been too scared to talk about him before, but I'm not scared any more.

Now, I'm just PISSED OFF.

Megs

The Big Picture

I was two seconds away from writing a blog last night about how scared I am for the things to come and my mom called to tell me something really great, which was a perfect reminder that when God opens doors, there isn't much else to do but walk through them.

For the last three years, I have been working mostly full time on a Bachelor's degree in Interior Design. We have always discussed my graduation date with a "some day this will happen" sort of way and I honestly thought I had at least another full year of classes before I finished. In June, my academic adviser counted and gave me a number that made me really happy and after counting {{a few times}} I realized by the middle of January, I should be finishing up my last two classes. This is GREAT news. I am excited to be finishing and getting done with something I have worked so hard on, but that excitement comes with a lot of other feelings too.

In June I shut down SBE. For awhile {{actually the whole entire month of June}} I was pouting about the 'loss' of my business. For years now I have worked, studied, researched, worked some more, on creating SBE, growing SBE, and making something of it. My life the last twelve months had been a crazy chaos of kid-work, life-work, school-work, SBE-work, and house-work. There were weeks where I was going non-stop from 5am until 10 o'clock at night - days where I literally didn't sit, except for at dinner. And when we decided in June that I needed to set SBE aside, for the bigger picture, and it freed up a good portion of my day, I literally didn't know what to do with my hands. I've been afraid to write about this because I was worried about what people would think were the reasons we decided to stop putting energy into it, after working so hard to get where we were; if it's really making money, why stop? One of the main reasons was because we decided to home school. Homeschooling is right for our family for a number of reasons {{I'm not going into right now}} and if you are already so busy that you don't sit down but once a day, it would be nearly impossible add that too your day. J was {{rightfully}} worried about my ability to juggle it all. Another main {{and probably more important}} reason is because it was just time. I realized a few months back that SBE was never meant to be my life long goal. In fact, part of the chaos was getting SBE handled and then working on my school work, for my actual life long goal. One day after praying for guidance on the whole situation, I saw the video testimony of someone I admire and she was saying how she felt like a failure for closing her business. God told her it would be okay because He had bigger things in mind for her, later. Sometimes those immediate answers are the ones you need to hear the most. I never dreamed that my little business would become what it did. Say what you will but I sold several thousands of dollars worth of glass mugs last year {{maybe not tens of thousands, but it was only my second real year in business.}} Glasses that I designed. FROM OUR HOUSE. That's nothing to sneeze at when you're working around a family schedule, a full time school schedule, and a military schedule. Running SBE and doing it all myself and figuring things out as I went taught me so much about the business side of, well, business-ing {{that's a word, right?}} The experiences I have gained from SBE will be invaluable in the future when I am ready to start again, on the bigger picture, later.

That brings me back to the things to come. Though I whole-heartedly feel that homeschooling is for us, the way our schedules are right now, with my school ending, and J's work schedule as busy as ever, we have decided to send Bug back to school this year. My baby is going to first grade. She's a very bright little girl and our main reason for homeschooling is because of how bored she was in kindergarten. But I have been assured by the school counselor they will pay very close attention to Bug and make sure she is being properly challenged. 2.0 is also going to school this year, and Baby J will also start preK after she turns three in the fall. Their level of excitement and readiness {{somewhat}} eases my anxiety {{why is the world so scary!?}} about them being away from me for most of the day. This change is probably going to be the hardest on me. I have been at home with them since before I even had Bug, and now three of the four will be gone for most of the day. {{Have I ever mentioned I'm a control freak?}} I know they have to grow up some day, but I just want them to stay little and innocent forever {{is this too much to ask for?!}} I'm not ready for them not to need me the way they always have. I also know that easing them into a school routine will be much easier than dumping them in daycare when it's time for my internship {{and hopefully a full time job}} and leaving it up to them to adjust on their own. My BFF said something that will stay with me forever, "Who are we without them?" And that's exactly it. I have all these things I want to do but I know in the depths of my being that none of it will ever compare... to them.

The last big thing to come is a doozy. It's also scary {{and wonderful, and exciting, and overwhelming}} but we think it's what is going to be the best start for our big picture: the kids and I will be staying with my mom in CA for my internship. I'm not sure if you've ever looked at Fort Polk on a map, but we are sort of in the middle of nowhere. There isn't much around and though I do have a couple options for interning out here, they won't really be as outstanding as they will be in the bay area in CA, nor will they be even close to where I would like to go with my career. This is a problem solved for me and things have fallen together so well with it, there is only one explanation {{remember those doors I was speaking of?}} As for fear of all the scary changes, I have decided to embrace it. My friend wrote about fear on her {{wonderful}} blog, she said, "At every transition the devil will send a spirit of fear, but 'I have not given you a spirit of fear, but one of power, love and self-discipline.' 2 Timothy 1:7."

So here's to the big picture, opening doors, and family <3.

A New Direction

It has been one heck of a year. If you've ever PCS moved, you know that the month before it happens life kind of stops while you prepare everything to move. You can't shop, plan trips, schedule appointments, make business decisions, or make changes to your house, because in a month you will be some where else anyways. Then you PCS and life picks back up in fast forward to make up for the time you were sitting in limbo... Our recent transition was like limbo on steroids. We Murphey's Law'd the heck out this move, with four small kids in tow ((life is an adventure!))

Let's do a brief update on the last few months and then I'll tell you the new plans I have for this blog ((it's going places, people!)) Bug is getting ready to celebrate her fifth birthday and is less than two weeks from starting school ((eek! my baby!)) 2.0 is going to be three and recently conquered the potty. Baby J is going to be 2. She is our sweet, cuddly kid, and Cash-man is coming up on seven months. All of them are beautiful ((I'm totally biased)) healthy, and smart individuals, each with their own personalities and quirks. Sugar Bee's Engraving is doing well. June 15th to July 15th was my best month ever, I was recently contacted and asked to be a vendor at a major comic convention, and I have big SBE plans for Louisiana. I am about to start school back up, full time, after a long break from having Cash-man. It was a lot longer than I anticipated, but we found out we were ten weeks out from a PCS ((yes, ONLY ten weeks notice - it happens people!)) so I extended it until we were settled. And J is great. He's been my solid ground just about since we met. He's so much better about going with the flow of our "adventures" than I am. The last year has really taught me how little control I have over most things and I am a lot better about bending to the changes than I was, but it's only because I have my husband and prayer.

So here we are a PCS complete but not finished ((why does un-packing boxes make such a fat mess?)) One of the biggest transitions for me this move has been our housing. We moved from our big, beautiful, perfectly organized ((ok, mostly)) house, onto post ((womp womp.)) It wasn't a surprise. We knew it was going to happen. We even knew the floor plan, the square footage, the neighborhood, before we even arrived. But I would be lying if I told you that I was happy when we actually got to walk through it. It's small, dark, the layout is awful, don't get me started on the flooring ((I mean, who doesn't want carpet in their dining room and bathroom vanity area?)) and it's old. All of it. In fact, I'd wager that the last renovation was done before I was even out of elementary school. Here I am, a design student walking through a house full of problems that people will be paying me to fix in a few years, eye-twitch and all. Now, I know what you're thinking, 'it's "free,"' 'it's easy,' 'then just go live off post.' Blah blah blah. There is pretty much nothing in this town. It's ok. You can think that's an exaggeration, I did too, until we got here. House prices are inflated because it's a military town and no one wants to live on post. Rental prices are even higher because of the same reason, and I'm sorry ((not sorry)) but I refuse to spend $1600 to live in somebody else's (('nuff said)) three bedroom house as a family of six, even if it is *only* (("OOOOOONNNLLLYY")) for three years.


One thing that I understand is this isn't an issue with just this post. Much of Post housing is outdated, small, laid out in odd ways, and dark ((oh the darkness.)) From here on out this blog will chronicle how to accommodate less than desirable: floor plans, home age, and ((DUN DUN DUN!!)) poor lighting; using the furniture items that you have, up-cycling, a little paint, and a WHOLE lot of love!

We'll go, "From Base Housing to Home."

P.S. Please bear with me while I adjust, and make changes to, the blog. It's a mess!

Meant to Be

ok, ok, it's been awhile {{seriously though, since February?!}} and a LOT has changed since my last 'it's time to count my blessings' post. I could go into a long detailed post about how big Bug is, how 2.0 is the smallest walking attitude I have EVER met, how Baby J lights up our whole day, or how having three children under four kind of feels like being pecked alive by seagulls, but I'm not going to. Instead, I'm going to tell you about this funny thing that happened to me in the end of May. To start this story off properly, I need to back up and start where two of my best recent stories start: This one time at pre-pregnancy weight...

I was just finishing a neighborhood group boot camp workout. It was after bed time {{blessed, sacred bedtime}} and I was on the phone with my beloved - who was out of town, pouring myself a nice glass of Moscato {{what you don't celebrate your bad ass workouts with wine?}} when suddenly, I didn't feel so hot. I quickly got off the phone and then promptly dry heaved into the kitchen sink. Now, for most people this may have sent up some serious red flags about the goings on in their bodies, but I *had* just finished like a thousand {{fifty}} burpees, it was possible my chicken salad had not been enough of a dinner and, as I gazed at the bottle of wine I was fixin to open, it was also very likely I may have been dehydrated; So I opted for a thermos of water and went about my evening with no other issues. A few days later while I was de-newborn-babying my house, it happened again. Just randomly dry heaved and then I was fine. In fact, it happened three more times over the next five days. I wasn't really sure why it was happening. I was drinking water. I was eating well. I was working out. AND I had an IUD in so that nixed the most obvious explanation, right? {{RIGHT?!}} After the whole Baby J 'mishap' I had opted for Paraguard. Hormone free. Goes in and you don't have to think about it ever again. And we've all seen the commercials. Those things are more than 99% effective. Effectiveness is what we were going for, so Paraguard it was. Well, after the third time in a week I started feeling really sick, dry heaved, and then felt much better, I decided to tell someone. Let's face it people, there aren't many flu's you can catch where you dry heave and then feel better and have no other symptoms, but there is also a large river in Egypt called denial. It was at this time a friend urged me to take a pregnancy test. I was really doubtful and really only took the test so I could wave the BFN in her face and say, "SEEEEE?!" The joke was on me though, the damn thing was positive before the control line even showed up... Hilarity ensues as I try to make the whole thing make sense in my brain while dealing with doctors that I have since quit. The flabbergasted "OH NO! That's what my wife has!" I got from my PCM was not very comforting. Then he used the word "Placebo" in a sentence while discussing my IUD, and by the time I left the office I was twitching and laughing maniacally like a psycho on the edge. A few days later my OB, who was just as horrified appalled shocked as I was, confirmed that there was in fact a baby in there and that there was no IUD {{which was really the best case scenario of the three that could have played out.}} Not only was there a baby, but it measured almost 8 weeks, and was moving and jumping around. Doing some research of my own I found out that the more kids you have, the more likely an IUD is to fall out. In fact, if you have three or more kids, your chances of it coming out rise to about ten percent. That's right people, chew on that little statistic for a minute. TEN PERCENT. That means, that for me {{and anyone else who has had three or more kids}} the IUD is only 90% effective. Also, without being graphic, I had some symptoms of it falling out that no one ever discussed with me and since I had just had a baby, I passed the symptoms off as that {{My point here is to read the fine print.}}

You would think that at this point I would have had a nervous breakdown about the reality of the situation, but I think as soon as I peed on that damn stick and it was positive so fast I had decided that I was CLEARLY {{CLEARLY!!}} not in control of the situation and the best thing to do was to just ride it out and give it to God. So, here we go again... for the THIRD YEAR IN A ROW {{and yes, if you're counting that's four kids in five years, and in case you had some how missed it, YES, we DO know what causes it.}}

Our fourth child {{and LAST - GOD WILLING}} and first son is due on January 9th, 2014

Celebrations

I am a firm believer that God gives you what you need exactly when you need it. Sometimes we recognize it right away; sometimes it takes hindsight to understand. I'm also a firm believer that if you are open to good things, good things will happen to you {{If you build it they will come, so to speak.}} Whether you're a believer in Him or not, focusing on the good things in your life will always keep the focus off of the bad. Recently, I have been too focused on the bad. Not only have I been trudging through my own gutter but I feel like I've let the negatively of others impact my own positivity. I am not this person. I refuse to be this person. Today, I read a blog about a girl who was driving home from work, hit a wall of water and was swept away by the current. Suddenly, her normal drive home turned into a life or death situation. She called upon God to save her life and through prayer she was able to keep her wits about her and He did {{Say what you want if you don't believe, but the truth is, in the 'foxhole' we are ALL believers.}}

For a number of reasons that I'm not going to waste your time with, I have let myself get into a grumpy slump. The problem with these is that they turn into vicious cycles and I have been praying for help out of it {[I really don't want to be the lady that does nothing but complain about her crazy kids}} and this morning I got it. In some weird way this blog, which I came upon by happenstance, while doing an assignment that had nothing to do with the post I read, made me realize that I am in a slump because I have not been celebrating the things that I should be.

So in an effort to get back into routinely blogging and an effort to get out of my slump, I'm going to start a weekly Celebrations post. I have too many things to celebrate to lose sight of them to things that aren't worth my time.

Celebrations:

2.0 is communicating! She is almost 16 months old now and she is saying so much now. Amongst my favorites: "That's silly!" "That's punnay!" {{Funny}} "Yyyyeeeaaaaaa!" {{her answer to anything we ask her. Much better than No.}} And of course, "Nack" and "dink," {{snack and drink.}} Gone are the days of trying to figure out the source of the broken sound {{ok, mostly gone.}}

This face



House Royalty



{{What? You don't have royalty in your house??}}

The few moments after J walks in from work. The house could have been in full-on anarchy and he walks in and everything is sparkles and rainbows for a few minutes. The daddy's-home-giggles are the best part of my day! {{And they keep me from drinking heavily}}

I am super thankful for school. I barely get adult interaction during the day and school is one thing thats all mine and because I'm focusing on something that I love it makes it my little escape. I am very lucky that I get to focus on something I love, that fulfills me so. The level of fulfillment I get from it is *disgusting*. I also joined ASID {{American Society of Interior Design}} yesterday. I am now a student member. It's not really a big deal in the grand scheme of things right now, but it will be great in the future.



My last celebration for the week is for my Spark. Gotta love anything that makes Mommy feel like a million bucks and get things accomplished during the day!! Whoo hoooo!!

I. Am. A. Huge. Nerd.

So, that's really not that surprising, huh?

This week I have used my school work as a key distraction from things I'd rather not think or focus on. On Tuesday I got my latest book stipend from my favorite Uncle Sam {{WOO HOO!! I'm rich!}} and before I went too crazy with it, I decided to check my course needs for my next round of classes {{Womp, womp... I'm poor!}}

My next two classes are Textiles and Visual Indication {{more drawing}}. I'm excited about the visual indication class because I get to use fancy markers {{oh to be simple}} but I am a giggly, Irish-jig-dancing-when-the-mail-lady-delivered-my-book, mess, about the Textiles class.

When I was seven, I would tell my mom that I wanted to go to an Art School for Interior Design {{I also wanted to be a Marine Biologist and a Forest Ranger.}} Going to design school has been something I have wanted to do forever. Now, not only am I doing that, but in a few weeks I'll be starting course work for my actual field of study!

I get to take a class All. About. Fabric.

I'M SO EXCITED!!

Of two things I am ABSOLUTELY certain:

I. Am. A HUGE nerd.

and

I am doing EXACTLY what I'm supposed to be!

P.S. Sorry, Mail Lady.

Emotional Cleaning

Do you emotional clean? It's what I do so I don't eat my feelings. Ok, it's what I do AFTER I eat my feelings. It's not the same as everyday cleaning. It's getting the gloves and the toothbrush out and scrubbing the baseboards until the paint comes off... It's different.

I lost an old friend this week. He passed away early Sunday morning. It's been awhile since I had talked to him. Too long. At one point in my life he was a part of a group of friends that I spent three or four nights a week with. We were close and we always had so much fun together. We had it made. We totally took it for granted. One day life happened and everything changed.

Bret was one of the most genuine people I have ever met. I don't think I ever heard him say a bad thing about anyone. He was one hell of a hard worker. He loved his Mama. And he would have given the shirt off of his back to anyone who asked, if he thought it would help them. He also new how to have fun. I can't remember one single time I was with him that I didn't laugh until my sides hurt. Even if I was in a bad mood, he made me better. That's just how he was.

I have a good grasp on death, or so I think. Everyone dies. Sometimes, it's a relief. It ends the pain of a long struggle or battle. For some it's peaceful. For some it's ugly. But everyone goes. It sucks when it's someone young. Sucks even more when it might have been done by their own hand. It ends their hurt but it leaves a void.

And questions.

And confusion.

Questions:

How does a person go from being such a big part of your life to not a part of it at all, overnight?

And why is that normal?

Is it wrong to remember someone for being the life of the party, if the party is ultimately what gets them?

Confusion:

It just doesn't make sense.
{{A sentiment echoed by every. single. person I know.}}

And so I clean.

Hoping I can bleach answers out of the bath tub. Organize the chaos in my house, to help clear up the chaos in my head.

It might not work...

But at least the house looks nice.

I Missed You {{Me}}

Last year was crazy. The baby. The Deployment. The other baby... I haven't felt like myself in a looooooong time. The last time I was *just* about there, *just* about back to some resemblance of a human, I found out I was expecting number three. I know down to the very bottom of my toes that I am one blessed individual. Between my husband and my three beautiful babies, I have no clue what I have done to deserve them and honestly the thought of losing one of them shakes me straight to my core. That being said, having three kids in four years can really do something to a girl.I love them to death but sometimes I feel like I am being attacked by a tiny mob of cute zombies. They're hungry, they're tired, they're thirsty, they need to be changed, hugged, kissed, cuddled, played with, bathed. Let's not forget their laundry, dishes, diapers, toys. My list of things to do never ends. My day starts early {{waaayyyy too early}} and it doesn't end until well after bedtime. Add in school work {{something has to keep groceries in the fridge after J retires some day}} housework {{cough, cough}} and let's not forget my fourth "child" {{love you honey!!}} and dealing with everything it means to be a military spouse. It's easy to lose yourself in trying to make sure everyone else gets taken care of {{it's kind of like being slowly eaten alive... by zombies... Just kidding...but seriously}}

On top of all of that, I have been feeling pretty bad about myself. You know what's really cute on a pregnant woman? A big round belly. You know what's cute on a not-pregnant lady?? {{Womp, womp}} Combine it all together and I've probably been an ogre. Screw not "being myself," I was probably closer to a cave dweller.

The good news is that Baby J is finally old enough for me to start working out. I am nursing and, though I am a little nervous about what it will do to that, everything I have read says to go for it - and drink water {{Lots and lots of water}}. So Friday, I started working out again. Nothing crazy. I want to start slow to prevent a supply loss, so I'm only doing thirty minutes of cardio... for now. I've always known that working out is my therapy, but I didn't realize how much I needed it until I was on my elliptical tonight.

Thirty minutes of quiet. Thirty minutes of by myself. Thirty minutes of blowing off steam. Thirty minutes and my shakra is aligned; my world is at peace {{Namaste}}. Thirty minutes and the ogre is gone...

Thirty minutes just for Me...

T'was Two Weeks Weeks Before Christmas

I could update you on all the big things I've missed in the last few months, but since all five of my readers are FB friends, I'll just skip that and jump right to something REALLY important...

Christmas Stockings.

I have a friend who makes them. She owns Divastitch12 and is amazing at sewing awesome things. She is also the one who urged/inspired me to buy a sewing machine and a few weeks ago also convinced me I was capable of sewing stockings for my, now, family of five.

I started out on Pinterest {{where I start all my important projects}} and found a link to a pattern I love on etsy at a shop called YardsandYards. I purchased it and on black Friday picked up the fabric necessary. It took a few weeks to make time for them, but once I got going I was SO excited!!

The pattern was SUPER easy to follow. {{I'm new at this whole pattern reading thing, remember?}} But I was pleased to find very detailed instructions with pictures. I even managed to make them all the same size {{Wowza!!}} I had my friend embroider our names on the cuffs and I even managed to make all the names show and hang in the same direction {{A Christmas MIRACLE!!}}

I freakin LOVE THEM!!

Yay!! Christmas!!

I am a Vain Asshole

I had a doctors appointment today.

I am 39 weeks and 3 days pregnant and TOTALLY over it.

I left my appointment crying.

I wasn't crying because my BP is borderline high and has been for weeks.

I wasn't crying because I've been a super jerk to everyone I love because of how miserable I am.

I wasn't crying because the doctor brought up induction if my BP isn't better on Wednesday and I'm a psychotic control freak and don't know what that means.

I wasn't crying because I have felt like garbage for the last week and other than BP there really isn't any answer they can give me.

I wasn't crying because I've been to L&D twice in the last week and was sent home both times with nothing more than a, "There's nothing wrong with you."

I wasn't crying because they did an u/s and I got to see our precious baby playing pokey-fingers and her little perfect heart beating away.

No. No tears for something that makes sense.

I was crying because I've gained two pounds since Thursday.

Yup. I. Am. A. Vain. Asshole.

This Might Surprise You... But I don't care {{PSA}}

There is this awful thing that society has done to pregnant women, or rather that it does to people who see pregnant women. Something clicks in their brains and makes them stupid. Not only does it make them stupid but it makes them stupid and removes any kind of brain-to-mouth-filter allowing them to say whatever they want.

I would like to share a few conversations that people have had with me in the last few weeks and then, I would like to 'surprise' you by telling you that I REALLY don't care what happened to you, or {{insert any random person here that you might know - like your cousin's sister's boyfriends best friend that you met that one time}} or about ANY thing you may have watched on TLC or Discovery Health {{specifically pertaining to parasitic bugs}}.

Conversation #1~ I'm having three girls, who will all be in high school together {{this isn't lost on me I PROMISE}} so please tell me how much they are going to hate {{HAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTEEEEE}} me. Really, it's awesome and pretty much what every miserable, pregnant woman wants to hear.

Conversation #2~ I'm having three girls, who will undoubtedly and so surely hate {{HAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTEEEEE}} each other some day that our family will be broken and never be a "normal" family, all because I went and had three girls. Thanks.

Conversation #3~ I'm fairly close to delivery so please tell me again about your {{insert any random person here that you might know or have heard about through the grave vine - like your cousin's sister's boyfriends best friend that you met that one time}} that had a perfectly normal, healthy pregnancy until the last week when their baby died in utero. {{*Thumbs up!* You rock!}}

Conversation #4~ Please tell me how concerned you are about our money/health insurance situation, strange person I have NEVER met, who has NO IDEA about either "situation".

Conversation#5~ "I saw this episode of {{blank}} of TLC or Discovery Health, did you see it?! It was crazy the woman gave birth in a tree/hut/forest/flagpole/doghouse/whatever. Is that how you are going to do it?!" or "I saw this crazy, INSANELY biased, one sided, ignorant, video on {{some medical procedure that pertains to child birthing}} online. You aren't going to do that are you?!"

Conversation #6~ Please keep telling me how your ability to go drug-free pertains to MY vagina. {{Hmmmmm... ya know? I don't think it does...}}

Conversation#7~ "Wow!! You're SOOOO {{insert any adjective describing something large}}!!!!!!"

On behalf of all pregnant women, if you are discussing any of the above {{or anything else that might be added to the list}} and you get a blank, blinking stare and a big, stupid smile, it's not baby-brain, it's just a hallucination of you getting stabbed in the eye with a very rusty fork. Do yourself a favor, quickly change the subject by telling her she's the most beautiful pregnant woman you have ever seen... and run.

I don't care about any of it and I REALLY don't want to hear it. Neither does any other poor pregnant woman you corner in the grocery store, for that matter. And for the record, no it's not twins. But thank you for asking.

There Is No Time Like Now...

There's No Time Like Now...

For spending an afternoon with the awesome women in your life {{and getting gorgeous jewelry in the process}}...

I hosted a Lia Sophia Party for a friend yesterday and it was so much fun! I know I have said it before, but I really do have the BEST neighbors!

For eating delicious food...

There is a new bakery in our little corner of the world. They offer delicious cupcakes {{that I may or may not have been eating too many of recently}} and they were part of the treats at the party. YUM!!

For... cleaning your carpets...?

{{Wait, What?!}} Pretty sure, I walked my last two guests upstairs last night to show them around, leaving 2.0 sitting on the floor drinking from her bottle. When we walked back down stairs, she had EXPLODED in her diaper, leaving poo-pile #1 {{And. It. Was. EPIC.}} Then she crawled through it, schmearing it ALL THE WAY ACROSS THE LIVING ROOM. Where we found her sitting in poo-pile #2 {{Yay life!}} Remember those AWESOME neighbors I mentioned? Yea, one of them ran home to get her carpet cleaner and cleaned the area for me, while the other neighbor and I tried to clean 2.0 off without touching her. {{Or gagging... The smell was AWFUL!!}} Thanks, Ladies!! YOU ROCK!

For going back to school...

Yup, two weeks ago, I found out The Art Institute is now offering online degrees and it was like the design gods had opened the clouds and spoken to me {{Actually, her name was Tara and I was chatting with her on their website. It's sort of the same thing though.}} I enrolled right away and today was my first day of the B.S. Interior Design program. That is now how my September looks. It's a little overwhelming, but VERY exciting and after all...

There really is no time like now.

Apple Cinnamon Wontons

I woke up to an absolutely beautiful morning. It was in the low 60's, there was a gorgeous breeze, and, best of all, no humidity!! I even got to drink my coffee on our screened in porch {{my very favorite place to have coffee}} while the girls quietly watched Mickey Mouse. It was very close to perfection {{Bet you can guess what was missing}} and in a very short amount of time, a morning like this will in fact equal perfection. The weather was so nice, I decided to open up the house and let out some of the summer-stale and enjoy the cross breeze while I had my Saturday morning clean-up party.

Clean up parties don't last long around here, anymore. Why, you ask? Well, Pigpen and her little dirt-farming-sister seem to undo any cleaning I do, faster than I can clean, so it doesn't take long before I decide to move on to bigger and better things... Like baking {{hello, I'm pregnant! What else am I going to do?}}.

I periodically crave dumplings and have used several brands of empanada, ravioli, or wonton casings found in the commissary, to make them homemade. Recently, I came across these:

And they are by far the best I have used. They freeze and thaw well and they are easy to work with, without tearing apart. Having decided I needed {{NEEEEDED}} to make some thing sweet, I opened the fridge and there they were, calling to me from their little home in the deli drawer. I also happened to have 4 Granny Smiths and I quickly decided to make Apple Cinnamon Wontons.

Ingredients:
3-4 Granny smiths, peeled and chopped.
4ish tbsp of brown sugar
2 tsp of vanilla
1/2 tsp cinnamon
dash of nutmeg
Package of wonton wrappers
1 stick of butter
1 egg white
1 tsp water


Combine all ingredients {{except the wonton wrappers and butter}} into a bowl and mix well while melting 4 tbsp of butter over med-low heat. Once butter is melted, but before it browns, add the apple mixture. Let simmer until it's all bubbly and delicious looking and then add the remaining butter. It is important not to let the moisture cook out of the apples. Also, the length of time you cook your apples is totally up to you and how cooked you like them to be. I like mine a little aldente and only cooked them for 7 or 8 minutes. Once they are done, remove them from heat and set aside for the filling process. {{If I had had some caramel squares, I would have thrown some in to melt down into the apples, at this point, and I think it would have been delicious!!}}

While the apples are simmering, beat an egg white and tsp of water together in a bowl and set up your wonton wrappers for filling. At this point you can also heat up a pan with oil or you can wait until you've filled your wontons, as once you get them in the hot oil, the process moves pretty quick. Brush the outer edges of the wonton wrappers with egg white and spoon a tbsp of the apple mixture into the center of one, top with the other and press edges together {{This would be good to let kids do, if they are helping you.}}

Drop the filled wonton into oil hot enough to make the edges bubble.

Turn when the edges start to brown. Cook for as long as it takes for the dough to bubble and lightly brown. Don't get distracted by other things or they *might* turn out a little darker than you anticipated.

Sprinkle with powdered sugar and be prepared to eat them with reckless abandon.

ENJOY!!

What's In...

Isn't always what works.

I have recently become obsessed with nail polish. It probably has something to do with an article I read that said nail polish draws attention to one of the smaller parts of your body. {{Ummm... does this nail polish make my butt look small?}} Anyways, so I have become sort of adept in painting my own nails. I suck at painting my right hand. {{Usually once I'm done, it looks like I sneezed with the polish brush in my hand.}} The other day I heard that Minty Green was the new "it" color and I happily picked it up while on a shopping trip to Target earlier this week.

Unfortunately, it doesn't look like I'm rocking the new "it" color...

It looks more like I got in a fight with a tube of toothpaste and lost....

Note to self: When you're this pasty, stay faaaaaaaaaaaar away from pastels!

Today...

I woke up.

I made a whole list of important things to get done.

I cleaned our bathroom.

I put away laundry that had been living on my dresser for a month {{or seven or eight}}.

I made the girls waffles.

And then...

I sat down.

Now, a Sex and The City {{or seven or eight}}, a nap time and a whole bag of Sour Patch Kids later...

my tongue is raw and I think the rest of my list can wait until tomorrow.

I'm Fat {{A Baby-J Update}}

On Friday I will be 28 weeks pregnant {{Seven months, for those you not up on the lingo}}. This pregnancy has flown by with hardly any drama and almost no puking, a fact I am supremely greatful for, after spending the majority of my first, and the first half of my second pregnancy with my head in a toilet. I can officially say this pregnancy hasn't been awful. Actually, if all of my pregnancies were as uncomplicated and smooth as this one, I might be happy to have ten kids {{but lets not get crazy}}.

Baby J is a very healthy little girl. She's active as can be {{so active at one point I had to go to L&D because I thought her acrobatics and pokey-fingers game were causing unwanted things to happen}}. She is measuring spot on and though she is due Nov 2nd, I have a feeling she'll be making her debut into the world some time the week before Halloween, but we shall see. They all come when they want to. She is a fiesty little thing. She refuses to let them monitor her heart beat for longer than a second and she LOVES calling the 1-800-momsfood line and asking for cupcakes. And skittles. Lots and lots of skittles. This pregnancy I have gained more weight at this point, than I had in my other two, but in my other two pregnancies I gained a lot of weight {{like 30 pounds each time}} very quickly in the last three months. Maybe this time it just evened out over the whole nine months {{Or maybe I'm just huge and we'll play it off like I meant to do it.}}

"Some how" I have managed to stay busy enough to avoid sitting and focusing on the fact that in a few months we will have two children under one and a three year old. J asked me the other day if I was ready {{which effectively, is like asking if I am ready to be run over by a semi and then thrown onto a porcupine.}} Yes, we are ready for a baby to come. The house is {{almost}} all set and even Bug seems to understand another human will be living with us shortly. We have everything we need and Baby J even has her own space in the closet. We are ready but I'm not sure you can ever mentally prepare yourself for what's about to happen. I mean, 2.0 is still up three or four times a night and Bug has more attitude than I do {{which should be some kind of impossibility}}. I also keep getting asked if I'm getting excited {{sorry people, but please refer to the comment about being run over by a semi}}. My husband is coming home from deployment to an infant who was two months old when he left, a three year old and a hormonal pregnant house woman and in the "honeymoon phase" of all of that, we are adding another baby to the mix {{nothing like making all of your life adjustments at one time!}}. While it all IS exciting {{please no hate mail about how babies are blessings, I KNOW we are blessed and I am excited Baby J will be here soon}}, MOSTLY it's all just really scary.

I feel like it will be like ripping off a band-aid. It will suck while it's happening and then all the anxiety about doing it will be worthless because it wasn't really *that* bad anyways. The good news is I won't be pregnant again for a very VERY VERY long time {{I've already told my doctor that I will hold her personally responsible if it happens again}} and in the grand scheme of things being pregnant for three years isn't that bad... It could be worse...

That Duggar woman has been pregnant for twenty-two years...

I neeeeeed to blog!

Remember my post about our computer and the creeper who fixed it? Well, he didn't fix it and it officially crashed about a week after I wrote that blog. J felt sorry for me, trying to do everything I needed a real computer for on my phone and we decided the least expensive route would be for me to have a tablet, which would, in theory, get me to his home-arrival date. We have a brand new laptop, it just happens to be with him. In Afghanistan. Probably in a foot locker. Where I can't use it. I'm still not positive how that came to pass. The one we had was dying when he left {{hence, the new one}} and I'm not exactly sure how the new one went to Afghanistan and the old one stayed home to die here {{no TAPS for a laptop, huh?}}.

Anyway, for about a month I made due with the tablet and my phone. Both of which I could have typed a blog on, but niether are entirely comfortable for long winded post-typing and also {{an more importantly}} we didn't really have anything exciting going on. Our days come and go with Groundhog Day-esque monotony, broken only by random appointments and pay day errands. Fully narrated {{for your viewing pleasure}}, not by Bill Murray, but by the awesome observations of an almost three year old. She tells me what we are doing from the moment she enters my room in the morning until it's time to find her princess flashlight for bed. "Mommy, you wakin up now? Mommy, you changing baby sissers butt now? Mommy, You making cereal? Mommy, that noise is the coffee pot. Haha! Beep! Beep! Time for coffee, Mommy! Mommy, you eating toast? I like to make toast, can I help? Mommy, you unloading the dishwasher? Mommy, you walking up the stairs now?" It. Goes. On. AAAALLLLLLLL DAAAAAAYYYYYY. Sometimes, the narrative stops {{thank you, sweet Jesus!}} and she uses a series of clicks, beeps and bops to communicate {{womp, womp}}. My point is, if I posted about our days of this I would very quickly lose any readers I may have, so I just haven't posted.

On the up side, lately I have thrown myself full into getting my long list of projects done. I have made a nice dent in the list but this funny thing happens when you accomplish one project, you think about another one to add to the list. So, while I may be getting a lot done, I can't seem to get to the bottom of the to-do list. The biggest project is re-doing the rooms upatirs to accomodate our pending arrival. The bonus room {{currently our active living area}} with the girls room. What is currently Bugs room will be the man cave. What is currently 2.0's room, will be the Mama-cave {{I wish my name was Wanda so we could call it "Wanda-land"}}.

Here is where "we" are in our massive room re-dos: {{Some day each of these rooms will have their own post}}

I painted the man cave in the NFL colors of Js favorite team. {{It's funny because the princess bed is still in that room and it just looks silly!}} From where he is, J has been Ebaying team paraphernalia and chotchkies to fill his space and make it a happy home for his butt. The room will be loaded to the gills, but hopefully, in a classy way and not in a bad Applebee's way.

The girls room has been painted. This has been difficult because it is still acting as our family room, so trying to decorate around the sofa {{any one want to buy a giant couch?}}, tv and my office has been kind of a pain. I bought one color to paint the whole room and it turned out to be the same color the builder used {{womp, womp}}. We decided to paint the top half of the room in the light cream color and do a pink that coordinated with the fabrics I am using on the bottom half of the wall.

I love the way it turned out and with the way I am using everything, I think it will be girly without being punch-you-in-the-face-pink {{not what I was going for.}} I also finished the girls name art. I mod-podged my fabric scraps to the letters for their names and each girl will have a wall with their name and maybe pictures of them {{or something?}} I haven't really decided on that yet.

My next project is to get the furniture I have purchased for their room painted. So far we have a nice three drawer nightstand {{free from a friend}}, a five drawer dresser {{$45 from a local thrift store}} and some shelves that we had, that I decided to up-cycle for their reading area.

I have also been doing a TON of sewing {{hello? How come now one told me how addicting the sewing machine was?!}} and I have decided I'll be using Wal-mart flat sheets for everything in the future. Inspired by the awesomeness of the little reading tent I made, I am making matching duvet covers for each of the girls.

{{Still a work in progress}}

Sadly, the Mama-cave has taken a back seat to the other rooms. I really want to have a nice place for J to go to relax when he gets home and I also want the girls to have a fabulous room. That being said the Mama-cave re-do will probably not be done until after the new year. However, I am already pinning ideas and I know how I want it to look, and that's half the battle, right?

Stay tuned for more projectopia and a very late baby update {{whoops!}}

I can handle anything

I'm an Army wife. My husband is deployed. I have a very curious, inquisitive, rambunctious, and obnoxious two and a half year old. I have a wonderful Mommy's-girl, 7 month old {{when the heck did that happen?!}} who only wants to be near me. And I am currently baking another, that is sure to be the worlds next soccer star. I've dealt with a number of household emergencies since my husband left, even managed some on little to no sleep with sick children. I'm pretty awesome and I can handle anything...

However, nothing will turn me into a screaming, running 9 year old faster than a spider. Any spider. Yes, even daddy long legs. It's pretty sad. I've been known to vacate a room for hours waiting on J to get home. When that isn't an option I try any means possible to kill it without getting anywhere close to them {{did you know sliding a phone book across a laminate floor will kill a bug?}} Lets not even discuss the amount of time it takes for me to build my courage up to actually go through with killing them. It's also very sad. Through out this deployment I've been working on the length of time it takes to kill them. It totally freaks me out {{especially when they drag their dead bodies around by one working leg - EW!!}} But, after all, I don't have a choice {{besides when I lose sight of them and they are running free in my house, it just creeps me out that much more}}.

A few weeks ago, after killing the sixth disgusting, hugemongous, gross, brown house spider, my nerves had enough. I called an exterminator. The sweetest older woman answered the phone. I told her why I was calling and though she couldn't give me a guarantee I wouldn't see more, she told me I would see a lot less than I had been seeing {{Good enough for me!!}} I also asked her if they would knock down all the webs and kill the spiders on my porches. I thought nothing of her answer, "I'm sure we can do that." Then she said they'd be out the next day and we got off the phone.

I know this is totally sexist, but I was expecting a big burly man with his butt crack hanging out to show up at my door the next day {{aka John Goodman ala arachnophobia}}. So, imagine my surprise when my doorbell rang the next day and who stood before me was NOT a big burly man ready to take on and rid me of my house spiders. No, it was a five foot tall, seventy year old great grandma of three... Apparently, I didn't need a man...

I needed Betty White...



{{BTW, before I get hate mail for being an ageist, she did a GREAT job! She even knocked down all the webs on my porches. I merely find it quite humorous that I was out-womaned by a seventy year old woman.}}