Moving Day

Whew.

Thanks to my parents, Zach, my aunt, two cousins, our family friend Mr. Dave, Mr. Misner, and Jared L., we're about half way moved in as of tonight... boyoboy do we have a lot of stuff. You would think we were an old married couple with thirty years of accumulation.

But the sad news (which about threw me into a hyperventilating fit and a series of convulsions) is that once we pack up the computer here in about ten minutes, our internet won't be connected until around the 2nd of March. You might consider praying for my withdrawals that are sure to start in, oh... about a day or so.

But, peoples... this house is beautiful. The outside that I saw last week is nothin' compared to the absolutely perfect interior. Detailed photos of both will be forthcoming as soon as I get my computer back. If I thought I was in love then... well, I just had no idea.

So, we'll see y'all then. Please try not to let anything too terribly exciting happen while I'm gone, okay? Thanks. 'Preciate it.

Joy, what joy!! I can return comments!

You know, there are times, when blogging on Blogger, that I miss some of the features of LiveJournal--the community-style bloggie place I began my addiction bloggin' ramblin'. The main thing is the comment system. On LJ, when someone comments, you can reply directly to them, with your new comment appearing below theirs and a little off to the side. And then, the reply by the blog author is emailed to you. Pretty nice, if ya ask me. BUT, the downfall is that sometimes it ends up taking for. eh. vah, since, you know, if you reply to one person, you kinda feel like you should reply to ALL of them. Because they'll all see it. And on LJ, the comments can sometimes come by the droves. (What are droves? I dunno... it just sounded good.)

I often wish that Blogger had the same option, because frankly, I don't often go back to check and see if a blog author commented back to me with another comment. I forget. That's probably bad, but it's a fact. And so I don't often write "response comments" to all of you, because I don't know if you come back and check either.

When I started getting responses directly in my email box from people using Wordpress or Typepad, I thought that perk alone would be a reason to switch hosts. Then Boomama told me that Blogger had the same feature. But, me being me, I still couldn't figure it out.

THEN I read Sarah's post about clicking the "show email" box. And it clicked. (Not only the "how", but the main point that checking my email in Outlook Express was hindering me from this little feature.)

Now I know how to respond to your comments. :) :) :) :)

So those times I want to respond to you individually, like to some of the comments on the picture hanging post, I don't have to just wish anymore. And that's something to get all excited 'bout. :grin:

I did two Very Shocking Things this week

On Friday evening, I went to the grocery store without a list.

I know. The world has come to an end. It really has.

I can think of two times in my married life that I've gone grocery shopping without a list. And, as both of those times were, this time was a complete disaster. I came home with more food than usual, less money than usual, fewer meals able to be made from what I bought, and a fried brain from the stress of it all.

The other Very Shocking Thing was my laundry.

I haven't done laundry in... about a week and a half. John agreed that this is the longest we've ever gone without running the ol' washer, and that the growing pile has never been as big as it is at the moment. I usually try to do it on my one "laundry day", but I always find things I want to wash... rugs, more towels, a large blanket that hasn't been washed, and every other day I have a load of diapers in there, so my washer and dryer don't usually get that long of a break. This is virtually unheard of.

Thankfully, this is where the Excuses can be put into good use, and even more thankfully, the Excuses actually sound valid enough to perhaps convince you to momentarily excuse my um, severe LACK in the homemaking department. I'm blaming the whole deal on this little adventure we're in the midst of (moving?!) and the fact that there's a lot to do in a short time (pack?!) . The grocery store thing kinda happened because we were planning on making a grocery trip that afternoon, and then it turned out that our good friend--a new Marine who happens to be stationed here for six months--and his friend, who were going to come "hang out"-- yes, in the middle of our tornado of a house--needed to go to the commissary also. When he called to say they were ready... I wasn't. So we went to the store. With no list. I almost had a panic attack in the produce section.

And then, when we got home and they were "hanging out" with Zach, I thought about starting the laundry. But there was just something about carrying a huge pile (or two, or three) of laundry, with who knows what kind of unmentionables hanging out, through the living room, past a group of three young guys, and then washing all of it with them here. So, I pushed it to the back of my mind, where it promptly stayed until yesterday, when we weren't home. Then until today, while we were at church... and then now. So I guess I should take my leave to go put a load of laundry in the washer and figure out how many meals I'll be able to make from the supply of unrelated food I threw in the cart.

What craziness.

To Hang or not to Hang... THAT is the question!

Troy is cutting the second of his top two front teeth. Which means drool galore, crabby baby syndrome (because every problem a child has is a syndrome--it can't ever be their fault, right?), excessive clinginess (which IS a word in my head dictionary, people!), short naps and nights, and a child who wants to nurse every fifteen minutes. I told John that I feel like I have a permanent growth on me in the shape of a little person. :grin:

So while I sit and nurse my baby for the millionth time today, thinking of all the packing that must be done in the next couple days, (because, guess what?!, we're moving! You didn't know that, did you?), I'm contemplating something of great importance when we move into The New House.

Will I hang pictures up on the walls and set out our normal decor?

We will have from next week until July in this house, and, did I mention that it's beautiful? I want to enjoy the beauty... but not cause undo work or waste time on something just to pull it all back down.

So, I ask you, what would you do?

(And dear Lurkers, will you fill out the poll? Don't worry, you need not come out of hiding and comment, but you can click a button. :grin:)

If you were moving into a gorgeous new house and would only live there for a few months...

I'm in Love!!

And I'm not talking about John!

Not, of course, that I'm not absolutely head-over-heels in love with John--more than you could even guess... BUT, the object of my affections of which I'm currently speaking, that is not John.

(I'm also completely beside myself in love with a certain little tow-headed boy, but, the Object isn't him, either. Even if it is Valentine's Day.)

Last night I fell in love with our new house.

It is beautiful. It is brand new. It has never, ever been lived in. It is almost twice the size of our current house. It has a two car garage. It has a yard. It has a pretty back porch. It has landscaping. The outside is actually painted a color besides a faded cream/yellow. It doesn't have a metal roof. It has tile in the kitchen. It has a real dining room. It has pretty cupboards. It has three bedrooms. It has two and a half bathrooms. It has a laundry room inside. It has windows that actually let in sunshine. It is the most beautiful on-base house I've ever seen.

And we only get to live in it till July.

Pardon me while I wail for a minute or two.

Anyway. Yesterday we had another shift in plans. SHOCKING, isn't it??!! :wink: We were given a new house in the right housing district, as opposed to where they had originally put us... and new move-in dates. The 20-22. Of this month. As in, next Tuesday-Thursday. Yep, that's what I was thinkin too.

So we're in super-pack mode, and it's kinda fun. We're finding a lot of things in closets that we didn't know we had. Like a bag full of clothes for Troy, with the tags still on, from places like Baby Gap, The Children's Place, OshKosh and Gymboree, in sizes like 0-3 months, 3-6 months... and one 12 month pair of sweats. Oh yeah, and some things we've been looking for, such as his Alabama football (OH yeah! ROLL TIDE!!!!) overalls, which are thankfully a little big still, and his adorable Songs From God's Garden book we were given right after we found out we were expecting, and was stashed for future use in the closet. (You should see him with that one. It's one of those books with the buttons along the sides--and it plays hymns!! Every little person needs one. But Troy dances to them. We try to remind him that he's an Independent Baptist boy by blood, but he doesn't listen. He still bobs his little head and shakes his little hips. What's a parent to do when faced with such cuteness?)

So we're moving... surprise, surprise! I feel like a parrot. I seem to be announcing the same fact in different forms every post.

And if I'm not around as much as usual, you can be sure it's because I'm buried in packing paper, or have accidentally barricaded myself with heavy boxes inside a bedroom without a telephone and I'm waiting with bated breath for John to get home and let me out.

Dontcha just love making phone calls?

I'm using my time wisely.

I'm sitting with the phone stuck to my ear, on hold, again... and figured I must do something, so why not type?

In my ear I hear a very loud rendition of the Marine Corps' Hymn, followed by the equally powerful Star Spangled Banner. (You know, the same rallying version you hear when you go to the base theater and stand with your hand over your heart while they play the songs before the movie, the Marines stand at attention, and say a rousing OOH RAH at the end?) This is the fourth time I've heard both played during this "on-hold" session. I'm getting more patriotic by the moment. :)

I wonder if the receptionist has forgotten, or is hoping that I'll just hang up? But after about fifteen different automated menus, I actually heard the voice of a real person this time, so there is no way I'm passing up this opportunity.

Yes, I'm talking to the government housing office, and hoping to get a couple answers, which, of course, are not covered by the robot-man I've been talking to in all the many, many, many menus I've heard. (Actually, he talks, I just push buttons to answer him. Which I greatly prefer to say, actually speaking my answers, when it's a computer-generated person I'm "speaking" to. That always makes me feel a little, uh, ridiculous.)

Ooooh, now they changed the music. It's Yankee Doodle. Excitin' stuff.

But honestly now, I don't think I can handle another soft robot voice, "push 1 for more information about...", a voice mail box that's apparently full, another number that "has been disconnected or is no longer in service", another busy signal, another "Let me transfer you...", another "Can you hold?", another "I'm sorry, but [even though the rude person you talked to couldn't answer your question, transferred you to another rep with a full voice mail box, which meant you had to be 'transferred to a team member', but 'an available team member was not found'], there are no more options for you on this menu. Please call again. Thank you! Goodbye!"

I need a break. My ear is sore.

Okay, I'm "there" now...

Or should I say I'm "here" now? Because it doesn't really make sense to say I'm "there", being that if I'm "there", I can't be "here", and "there" implies being away from where I currently am, and I am, as a matter of fact, "here."

At any rate, I have a moment to fill you in on the current status of this little Marine Corps family.

I considered titling this post, "A week in the life of a Marine Corps wife." But I realized how ridiculous that would sound, not only because it would be a not-so-cute take on the name of Mrs. Fink's blog, but because this is nothin', noth. ING. compared to the vast majority of my fellow cammies-washing wives.

Last Monday was a normal day. I realized that night that I'd actually completely forgotten to ask John if he'd heard anything regarding our immediate future. I'd come to the point, after a little freaking out and a tearful conversation or two with my mom and John, where I actually found comfort in just not knowing. The fact that the variables seemed to keep multiplying and changing by the day, the options and possibilities seemed endless, and the amount of "control" we had over any of it was becoming more and more questionable all seemed to fade away over the weekend. Yet another change/possible outcome had occurred during the last two days of the previous week and I had just laughed, decided that I really knew absolutely nothing and probably wouldn't for many months, and most of all, that we needed to stop discussing the speculations John's and his "friends/higher-ups" kept talking about at work each day. Because that's all they were, speculations. And as it turned out, the things they were so certain of didn't pan out the way they expected anyway.

(Now, I have quite a number of Marine wives--current and former--in my readership, and I'm sure that each one of you is grinning to yourself as you read this. You've all had to learn these lessons yourselves, and listening to a young 21(almost)year old wife talk through it is probably slightly amusing... that, or rather aggravating. :smile: We've had a pretty easy--okay, extremely easy--going of it these first two and half years of our marriage in the ol' USMC, and I realize that this is just real life. You know, that thing that happens every once in a while? Thanks for bearing with me...)

On Tuesday, after my happy little day of returning to normal-land, John called and told me that he had talked to his monitor. He (the monitor) had adamantly refused the 6 month extension that John's Captain had requested, saying that the very most important thing was getting John to a deployable unit. He needed to get to Iraq ASAP. The monitor gave him the choice of east coast/west coast--John of course said west coast, being that both of our families are out this way--then gave him three units to choose from at a Southern California base--John was happy to hear that the unit he would have like to go to was on that list--and said it was done. He'd have the orders written up that day. So that was that.

Wednesday, we found out for sure that John's new unit was scheduled to deploy in a certain time frame next winter. We started talking about moving to "the beach," the fact that I will be leaving my hometown, church and my family for the first time, that we'll live very close to my sissy, that we were glad we weren't being sent to the east coast, that John won't be leaving for that Sandy Spot in the next couple months at least, that "the Real Marine Corps life" is about to kick in, and that we should really look at it as a new adventure. We had till the early summer here, and we aren't really moving that far away. It'll be fun... a new place, new life.

Then on Thursday, John talked to his monitor again (who still hadn't written up the orders), and found out that the unit and job they'd decided on earlier wasn't going to work, so John was going to a different unit, different duties. Not that big a deal, except that he's heard that this unit is much, much more well-known for sending guys on smaller, more frequent deployments in between the big ones. But that's just what's rumored, and as we all know, it could or could not mean much.

We were feeling pretty good about all of it on Friday. It was good to know something for sure, and we were trying not to dwell on the fact that in going to the "new place" we'd be leaving here and making the first big move of our married life--my first big move since I was five years old. Then we walked out the door to go to John's deacon's meeting, and noticed a Paper float to the ground.

We had nearly forgotten about The Move that we found out about last month. I'd been told on the phone not to expect to be moving across base until spring or summer, so we were guessing we wouldn't have to worry about that move. Guess again! :wink: We've been given a new house (in the wrong housing area, at that!) and three definite, pre-chosen, non-negotiable days to move into it next month. Then, three months later, we'll pack up what we haven't unpacked from the first move and go to a base a few hours away. There we'll have to find an apartment or something (that approves dogs--yikes!) to live in for 3-4 months until we can move into a house on base. Then, withing 2-3 months, John is scheduled to head to the Sandy Spot.

So, that's life for us in a... well, I guess I can't say nutshell. Maybe more like a coconut shell? No, I scrolled up. It's definitely a watermelon sized update. If you made it down this far, you're to be commended. And you know, writing it out, and using a million words to do so, makes it seem so... trivial? All it is, truly, is reality. So, Mr. Reality, here we come!

On a Misty Sea...

"I'm just not there yet."

John hears me say these five words frequently. He's one who can have ten different projects/jobs/"to-do's" going at once, keep his sanity and good mood, and get them all done in a timely manner. Me... not so much.

So it's not unusual in the slightest for him to suggest that we move on to something else and me to answer, "Can we maybe do that in a little bit? I'm just not there yet."

I have about twenty-five different posts written up in my head right now. Some silly, some serious, and some with quite a lot of news regarding our little life. I want badly to be able to write them all up and fill you all in, but... life is still moving, and quickly at that. I'm just not quite there yet.

Until then, I'll use the moment I have right now while dinner is in the oven to let you read a little poem that's been running through my head all afternoon. I'm not sure really when or why it popped into my thoughts, but it reminds me of "the good ol' days." My mama and I memorized this poem as part of my second grade A Beka curriculum the year we started homeschooling. We repeated it so often that my two year old brother could say it along with us. It reminds me of those oh-so-fun and yet oh-so-difficult beginning days, when school meant little spelling tests, books read together on the couch, simple math problems, lunch breaks with ham sandwiches and carrot sticks, and science projects where we acted out the solar system in our front yard. I was the earth. Mama was the sun. Zach was the little toddler moon.

It also makes me think of the days when we'd both end up in tears. My mom, who is considered by so many to be the veteran homeschooler--after all, she's been doing it much longer than most of the moms she knows and she actually made it through highschool with one of her children so far!!--was so very concerned that she would make a mistake, miss something, and ruin us for life. I'm certain that I have no idea just how many times she wondered if all this was worth it.

But it was.

There is nothing, nothing I would trade for the gift my parents gave me by their choice to home school me. (And Zach, of course, but I'm talking about myself here for now...) When I think of how different my life would be had their choice been different that second grade year, it honestly brings tears to my eyes. Now I know that homeschooling is not for every parent or every child. But for us, for our little family, it was perfect. I don't mean that every day was perfect--far, far from it. The tears that started that first year over our A Beka books--they're still coming, and there's only one of us at home now!

But let me tell you, next to pointing me to Jesus and leading me to Him, there is nothing on this earth that I'm more thankful for than for the education and the day-to-day life that my parents gave me. We made it through that first hard year, and by the grace of God, we made it through each day, month and year that followed. Now I'm a few years out of high school, and Zach is in what I think is the hardest time of the whole thing--tenth grade. (I know the moms with little ones are thinking they could dispute that!) If there is one year I would like to erase from my life, it would be tenth grade. But I know that none of us in our little family would be who we are today had we not labored through that rough year. And I know that Dad, Mom and Zach will look back and think the same thing.

I know a few people who would like very much to just be sailing through a misty sea right now, fishing for the twinkly herring fish. Since that can't always be reality, I give you...

Winken Blinken and Nod

Winken, Blinken, and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe --
Sailed off on a river of crystal light,
Into a sea of dew.
"Where are you going, and what do you wish?"
The old moon asked the three.
"We have come to fish for the herring fish
That live in the beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold have we!"
Said Winken,
Blinken,
And Nod.

The old moon laughed and sang a song,
As they rocked in the wooden shoe,
And the wind that sped them all night long
Ruffled the waves of dew.
The little stars were the herring fish
That lived in the beautiful sea --
"Now cast your nets wherever you wish --
Never afeard are we";
So cried the stars to the fisherman three:
Winken,
Blinken,
And Nod.

All night long their nets they threw
To the stars in the twinkling foam --
Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe
Bringing the fisherman home;
'Twas all so pretty a sail it seemed
As if it could not be,
And some folks thought 'twas a dream they'd dreamed
Of sailing that beautiful sea --
But I shall name you the fishermen three:
Winken,
Blinken,
And Nod.

Winken and Blinken are two little eyes,
And Nod is a little head,
And the wooden shoes that sailed the skies
Is the wee one's trundle-bed.
So shut your eyes while mother sings
Of wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see the beautiful things
As you rock in the misty sea,
Where the old shoe rocked the fisherman three:
Winken,
Blinken,
And Nod.

--by Eugene Field

Heavenly Chocolate!!

Thanks to Overwhelmed With Joy I have an excuse to post this delectable recipe my sissy gave me. We had it at her house on the Fourth of July last year, and John simply fell in love with it--not more than he's in love with me, of course. But I'd say it's a close runner-up.

It's my intention to make this yummy dessert on Valentine's Day to enjoy when we get home from church. (shhh! don't tell him! Not because it's a surprise, but in case I don't actually end up doing it. :wink: )

And the Very Best Thing? It is so. so. so. EASY!!!

Chocolate Trifle

Ingredients:

1 box chocolate cake mix (plus egg, water, oil and whatever else is called for in the mix directions)
1 medium container Cool Whip
1 pkg. chocolate chips
1 large box instant chocolate pudding
3 cups milk (for pudding)
*small amount Heath toffee bits (optional)
*caramel and/or chocolate syrup (optional)

1. Bake cake according to package directions. Cool. Break into roughly 1-2 inch pieces.
   
2. While cake bakes, mix pudding and milk according to package directions. Let stand in refrigerator until ready to use.
   
3. In a large bowl or trifle dish (I have a deep, glass salad bowl I use), cover the bottom with a layer of cake pieces. Layer about half the pudding on top of the cake, then about half the chocolate chips, then half the Cool Whip. Repeat layers. (Keep in mind, if using a glass bowl, that the layers will be visible... you want it to look *pretty*. Yeah, I know mine don't look so hot in the pic, but... ya know. Do as I say, not as I do...)
   
4. If desired, sprinkle Heath toffee bits and drizzle caramel and/or chocolate syrup on top.
   

For a whole TON of sweet chocolate treats, be sure to visit Overwhelmed!

Fun Bloggie Goodies

A few fun things to take a peek at, but hurry! Time is running out on a few of them!


For writing excellence found in the Blogs Less Traveled

This one is my favorite... I'm almost done getting my nominations together. There are so many people deserving of this, and so many great entries to choose from!

Nominations End Feb. 7. You have one more day!! Voting Begins Feb. 8. Take a peek!




Fun and Inexpensive Date ideas for all of us married folk. :smile:

Write your post and sign the Mr. Linky tomorrow, Feb. 6.

We tend to not make a big deal of Valentine's Day, not for any real reason... we just don't. :grin: But this year it falls on a Wednesday, which ensures we won't be going on any evening dates, but who says these ideas can only be used for the Lovey Day? Honestly, I'm just watching and gleaning on this one, 'cuz I can't think of anything original. Sorry excuse, I know, but it'll have to do.

So go get some date night ideas!

More Awards!

I found many of my favorite blogs listed among the nominees, as well as a whole ton of new places to visit.

The first phase of voting ends at midnight on Feb. 6, then the finalists are announced and the second and last phase begins on Feb. 7. The winners are announced on Feb. 14!

Go vote!

Chocolate! That says it all--my kind of bloggie goodness! :grin:

I'll definitely be participating in this one. Just post your chocolatey recipe on your blog and leave a link on the Mr. Linky at Overwhelmed With Joy on Friday, Feb. 9.

It couldn't get easier, and it sure couldn't get any tastier.

Take a peek!

When Mama closes a door, somewhere God opens a window

We have sufficiently barricaded our little Adventurer in a safe-ish place. (I say -ish because it doesn't matter where on earth that child is, he'll need watching a-plenty.) The wonders of baby gates have seen to that. So he spends much of his play time following me around the living room and kitchen, with the laundry room door closed (to keep him out of our pets' food and water dishes), the hall blocked off, and, now that he learned he can open cupboard doors, even the kitchen is sometimes closed off, leaving him... the living room.

Now, it would appear we need to close off one more hole in the wall--literally.

Our doggie has her own little door to the backyard which we installed in the sliding glass door. When we're dealing with her oh-so-fun dominance issues (which is, pretty much, every day it's light outside) we keep that door closed so she doesn't have another opportunity to think she's in charge. :smile: (Of course, you're probably wondering why on earth we have it then. Because we have a postage stamp sized backyard, a rather itsy-bitsy house and a hyperactive dog, there are times when the need for more space even outweighs dealing with doggie dominance. Like when we're sick, or have another doggie visiting for a few days, or both. Or, when we're gone for a day or two or three. That's why we have it. Whatcha think of my ridiculous need to justify our doggie door?!)

Troy and Belle both decided they need more space.... and so....



There ya have it.

With a little help and encouragement from the dog--no, not ME! Did you think I'd encourage something like this?--who stands on the outside poking her nose at the doggie door to get it swinging and walks in and out to show Troy what to do, he finally made it outside this morning.

I could almost hear him crying, "FREEEEEEDOM!" as he headed as fast as he could for the dirt.

Then Mommy found him.

Bloggie Block

I've got a bad case of it.

It's spreading wildly.

The harder I try to think up a post, the more my brain is shutting down. Notice that my last entry was rather... short? Just a picture? And with not much writing to count for anything? This illness explains that post.

I've been trying for the past few days to get some inspiration. What happened to the 25 different posts in 25 different flavors I had stashed away when I had no time to sit and write them? I dunno. They probably went to the same place the socks sneak off to when they're in the dryer. And there's not much that aggravates me more than those sneaky socks.

I could write about the house cleaning I did yesterday. Wouldn't THAT be exciting?

Or the fact that we're watching my parents' dog for a few days and the two dogs together think it is their responsibility to give us a new carpet... in shades of black and white. :wink: We are having quite a fun time with the doggies, but, I'm afraid nothing post-worthy has happened while they play pell-mell, tumble-bumble up and down the stairs.

Or the nice diaper that fell to the knees of a certain little person this morning. The one that was, apparently, full. The one that was sagging in just such a cute way that Mommy thought she'd take a picture of the sweet plumber-looking baby for future embarrassment her own stash of Mommy-pictures, until the baby moved in just such a way... it was not pretty. Now, I'm telling ya, THERE'S something worth reading. And, much to Troy's relief, I'm sure, that picture will never be able to be posted, as it never ended up being taken.

Or I could write about nice, happy things like going out to dinner tonight with old friends of John's, from his hometown in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado. But that's just so... pleasant.

So I won't write anything. Nope, I won't.