Happy New Years!

I don't have the time, nor the energy to write out a full post.


But, because it's the last chance I will have this year, I figured I'd at least publish something. :)


I hope this year was good for you, and I hope next year has many more good things in store. Be safe tonight in your celebrating. :)

Merry Christmas?

It doesn't feel like Christmas.


The tree is up, presents are wrapped, stockings are hung, I've got 17 or so Christmas cards with warm holiday greetings hanging from the wall, and my poor dog is walking around with a festive collar on that I'm sure she would strangle me with if she was able to do so. 
It might even snow here on Saturday! 
But I'm still not in the spirit.


(And while I'm at it, I'm not sad either. I promise I'm not about to whine about how much it sucks to be alone at Christmas for the next few paragraphs.)


I don't know what it is this year. This is the third Christmas Sarge has been gone for since we got together (three here, three gone. We're staying pretty even!), but I've never felt like this before. And to be honest, him being gone didn't suck the Christmas spirit out of me like most people might assume. Working at Shoney's for almost seven years ruined every holiday possible, ha. That place... ugh. A rant for another day (ranch dressing!!! XD).


I'm usually really excited, whether he's here or gone. I think the difference this year, is that he normally is on his way home soon after the holidays. But this year, he left right before. So there's no "as soon as they're over, he's back! Yay!" running through my head. It's more like, "meh. Who cares?" I do think I like this deployment schedule better than the old one, though. He left the first week of January last time, so the holidays were kinda depressing because I knew he'd be leaving soon, and there was a lot of pressure to enjoy them, which just made it worse. This year, I just have to mull through it all and get excited about next year. :)


That's the other thing, little man is really too young to really enjoy any of this, or be that active in what's going on, so I don't even have that to be excited for.
So that whole "watch your kids faces light up" thing doesn't even apply this year. He'll probably enjoy the wrapping paper better than the hundred-plus dollars worth of toys he's getting.  Heh, actually, thinking about it... that might not change for a while. Kids are funny that way. :)


Next year is going to be a blast. I think I'll treat it more like his first Christmas than this year.
Good news is, I only have to be indifferent for a few more days. Then, I can tear the tree down, pack up the decorations, and pretend like it never happened. :)
Ugh... and then I'll play "clean up the glitter" for the next three months or so. I'm sooo buying some new decorations this year. I don't know what possessed me to buy glittery ornaments and a glittery tree skirt ("Ooooh... glitter! Shiny!"), but I'll never do it again. If any of you see me out next week (I'm buying new ones on clearance, because that's the only way you should ever purchase such things!) picking up something with glitter on it... smack it out of my hand. And say this, "glitter herpes." Because as we all know, glitter is like the herpes of the craft world. It NEVER goes away. I'm serious, I was finding glitter from last Christmas this past October. It's INSANE. Clearly.


Anyway, I hope all that are traveling this holiday have safe, stress-free trips, and everyone enjoys the holidays as much as they can per their own personal situation. Merry Christmas, everyone!
<3

I Don't Get Naked Baby Pictures...

Really, I don't. Newborn, maybe. But after that... no. Especially not professionally taken pictures that you plaster all over Facebook for the world to see. I mean, I have bath pictures of my son, but they were more "first bath" and "first bath in the big tub" kinds of things that are staying in the family album until he gets his first girlfriend... then they shall be revealed to embarrass the pants off of him--okay, maybe not. Pants stay on, SON. 
I have never had the urge to take him down to Olan Mills, Sears, or wherever, strip him down, and have people take pictures of his back side. It's just... weird.


Their butts aren't even that cute. They look like old man butts. I don't want that on my Christmas card.


I won't get started on the nude maternity shots. Although, these made me lol a few times out loud. http://pregnantchicken.squarespace.com/pregnant-chicken-blog/2010/12/10/awkward-pregnancy-photos.html Maybe if I looked that good uber-pregnant I'd done them, too. Haha. Definitely NOT like any of those though. Why is that man naked? I can't get that thought out of my head. What were they thinking?


My ear is getting better, in case there was any interest. I had to go back and complain about the first doctor I saw to the new doctor to get anything, but... it's better. He seemed equally confused that she only prescribed me the z-pack. And he also was not nearly as annoyed that I had my son with me. I don't know what was shoved up that lady doctor's ass, but, if I ever get her again, I'm going to walk out of the room. 


Of course, none of this would be an issue if they'd schedule my appointments with my PCM. I don't think I've ever seen her. I probably never will. I don't know why they even bothered assigning me to her. I don't know why they ever bother assigning me a doctor for that matter. Gotta love it.




Gift wrapping has continued. And it has continued to frustrate me in the odd shape department. My honesty has also been tested. David had my gifts shipped to me... I wanted to wrap the boxes and put them under the tree. Two of them did not arrive in boxes, instead in bags. I contemplated opening the bags, then wrapping the boxes inside (which, I still don't get the point of--wasted packaging irks me)... but, didn't want to ruin the surprise. So, they are wrapped... rather ugly might I add, but wrapped, under the tree. And I didn't peek! Even though I really wanted to. :)


That's all for todays random topics shoved into one post blog. :) Now that I'm feeling better, I hope to post a little more frequently. But, we'll see about that. I always have the best intentions. :)
<3

I Know Where He Gets His Stubborn-ness From...

I am as stubborn as a man when it comes to going to the doctor, and I will openly admit this. I am equally as stubborn when it comes to asking for help.


This time, however, it really bit me in the ass.


This is my basic thought process when faced with a situation where I should probably ask for some assistance:


"Wow, this really sucks."
"Maybe I should call someone..."
"No. I don't need any help."
"Damn, this really, really sucks."
"If I call them... I'm going to feel like I'm bothering them. I can do this!"
"I can't do this."
"I only have to make it ___(insert number)___ much longer."
"Fuck it... I'm calling someone."
"No. I don't want to drive all the way out there/wait for them to get here."
"They wouldn't really want to help me anyway. Why bother?"
"I got this! -stares at clock- Really."


And that's either when I cave and send a text message between sobs (don't know why, but for some reason, the process of deciding I need help always ends in tears...), or keep on truckin'.


Remember when I said I was sure that being sick was going to end with me going to the hospital? 


It did.


Started feeling sick on Saturday, Sunday was rough, but Monday I was feeling an upswing! Tuesday, I felt like someone was ramming a pencil into my eardrum. I caved and made an appointment. The nurse advised me that if it got bad enough (and it did) that I should go to the Urgent Care Clinic (which, is basically like the ER... but for non life-threatening emergencies, which means my ear-ache would be even further down the list of what is important.). This was one of those situations where I really, really should have called someone. But, I kept convincing myself that no one would answer the phone/be able to. And by the time I really wanted to go, it was too late in the day--the baby was getting ready for bed. I didn't want to have to try to find someone that could come sit here in case he woke, and I didn't want to be at the hospital until 1 or 2 am, just to have to get up with him at 5 or 6. So, I waited it out. I had a dream that I was in the ER and I put a sign on myself that had my name on it so I could catch some Zzz's while I waited. XD


What do I find this morning? Blood in my ear. Yes, blood. I thought, eh, I must have irritated the skin, no biggie. And, it was hurting less, so I figured no big deal.


Haha, silly me.


After seeing the doctor, I am informed that I have a severe ear infection and I shouldn't have waited so long. She was not surprised that I couldn't hear out of my ear, and she honestly couldn't see in there well enough to really see what was going on because it was too swollen. She did say there was blood pooled in it, and she imagined it hurt really bad.


Amazingly, she did not give me any pain medication. Just a z-pack (antibiotics, I can't take most, and these work quicker). I was like, gee, thanks lady.


Will I ever not go right away again? Probably. Will I ask for help sooner next time? Probably not. I really should knock it the fuck off though. I think Sarge is going to give me an earful (haha, pun intended XD) next time we talk. I think I will bring up the time he got shingles earlier this year and decided to wait to go in. ;)


I'm off to eat some soup and cuddle with the cats. Ciao!

All Toys Should Come in Boxes

And not just any box. I don't want to see any irregular shaped ones. It needs to be a rectangular shape. I'm talking 90 degree angles only, here, people! No parallelograms, trapezoids, or any other hard-to-wrap shape. God forbid it be a circle.


I've been wrapping Christmas gifts tonight. I think the toy companies are out to get us parents. I haven't wrapped one yet that was "normal." I think the toy stores should have a shelve of boxes, labeled, that correspond with certain toys. On your way, you just pick up the marked boxes, and be on your way. With an older child, this would be even more fun, because you could wrap the box with 10 rolls of duct tape before you put the wrapping paper on it. That'll teach them to pick the weird shaped gift. ;)


In other news, I be sick. Blah. Of all the things that have happened to me, being an incapacitated mommy to a 6 month old while your spouse is gone, is definitely one of the more challenging things I've had to over come. I found myself today wishing he were a few months older, a toddler even, who could feed and entertain himself with minimal effort from myself. And, of course, he's teething, which means he wants me to hold him all day... but not sit and hold him, I have to be mobile otherwise the fuss-monster emerges and I'm back to square one.


Any takers? Just for a day or two while I get over this crud. Hell, I've even let you stay here, eat my food, drink my beer (after he's asleep), control the tv. I just need to take my medicine and sleeeeep.


Days like this make me really miss David. I don't normally think about it--him being gone, but I really couldn't help it today. Even if I just sent him out to run errands (the dog will be out of food in the morning >.>), or get up with him in the middle of the night---Heh, it's funny how your marriage will change. Last deployment, I wanted him home because I was lonely and didn't want to sleep by myself, this time I want him home to pawn the kid off on. XD


Honestly, I try my best not to complain about him being away. I've found that it really does no good, and only makes things worse. And it makes me look like a whiny bitch, ha. I've "unliked' a few spouse/girlfriend pages on Facebook this week because that's basically all the girls on there do. And if I hear one more Marine/AF girl complain about a 7 or 4 month deployment, I'll pull my hair out. I realize it's a bonding thing, really I do--I've been there. Get together with other people in your situation... but holy hell. There are other things to talk about. And complaining is not productive at all. I also can't take the ignorant comments and the drama. So, ta ta, ladies. Good luck.


I think it's about time I retire to bed. After a good dose of sinus medication first, though. I have a feeling this will end with me going to the doctor... but I'm going to avoid that as long as possible. I hate, hate, hate going up there. And the pharmacy is hell. I'd almost rather get the script, and pay the co-pay at WalGreens, ha. Oye. 


Adios!

Karma?

What an interesting string of days I've had. 


By the way, I meant to add this some where before, I will do my best not to turn this into one of those "look at my kid!" blogs. I can't promise most of my posts won't involve him (he is my little companion, after all), but I will not bore you with our day-to-day happenings, or what he ate, or whatever. That's what Sarge's daily email is for. Nor will I fill this with pictures. That is what Facebook is for.


Now that my disclaimer of sorts is out of the way...


I've always considered myself to be a nice, caring person. But, honestly, never really felt like I got much out of it other than my own satisfaction (which, is enough for me. I don't need a reward or a pat on the back to be helpful and kind). But the past few weeks, I really have felt like my good karma has been catching up with me.


One day a few weeks ago, I had two separate sets of people help me at the grocery store. One lady helped me get my son into his mei tai carrier that I'd never used before; the next insisted to unload my cart onto the checkout lane. Yesterday, instead of jumping in front of me in line at the post office, this very kind man, helped me shift my things down the counter as I filled out customs forms (do NOT get me started on the *new* forms). I got finished as soon as I got to the front of the line! When I looked back, there were literally 20 people behind him. I was floored. Most people don't care about anyone but themselves, especially at the post office. And today, I was at the pharmacy in the hospital, trying to pick up some medication for my son, and the wait was redonkulous (more so than usual, I should say. I don't think I've ever made it out of there in less than forty minutes). They were on ticket 37 when I walked in. I was number 68. After fifteen minutes, a lady next to me, gave me her ticket, because she had to be somewhere. She was number 50. It was one of the nicest things ever. I don't know what would have happened if we'd had to sit there that entire time (try sitting still with a baby for an hour or so!). We were called up a few minutes later, and on our way. And yes, I did pay it forward--I gave the lady next to me my ticket, which was six or so people in front of her own. 


I don't know if it's good karma shining on me, but it is a reminder that not everyone is an asshole.


Or, it could just be that I look pitiful jumbling groceries/other items, a 20 lb diaper bag, and a baby around... but who knows? lol


More later. Today was a long, stressful mommy-brain kind of day (medication was left at the hospital, and we had to go all the way back, only to lose his new hat while we were there... ugh!). And the babe (who, I need to come up with a blog nickname for), has been rolling over in his sleep and demanding I roll him back 10+ times a night, so I'm extra tired. Off to bed! 

From The Top!

Where to start? A little background on me, I guess. I come from a military family. My dad served 20 years in the Air Force. He retired when I was 10, and we moved from CA out to TN. Saying it was a big change only really scrapes the surface. Through it all, though, I can say that the move here, followed by the events afterward, lead me to who I am today and where I am today. And because of that, I can look back and say "it's okay." It's taken a while to get there, but I no longer get angry or sad thinking about my pre-teen and teenage years. There are what they were, and there is no changing that. All I can do, is make sure that the same events don't happen in my marriage and in my family.


I didn't date until college. And after breaking up with my first real boyfriend, or rather him breaking up with me for reasons I thought were stupid and dumb, I decided I was going to make an account on Yahoo Personals. Lethia and I also made some silly dating application for me among other things. I never, ever thought that anything would come of it, rather than a few laughs. Well, August 23rd, 2005, I got my first note from my now husband. How do I remember the date? The reply I sent to his email (I didn't pay for the service, but he did, so I got his email), is still sitting in my sent folder. Yeah, I save that stuff. To be honest, at first, I had no intention of every meeting him, and I thought he was being kinda creepy (he wanted my phone number and wanted to hang out while he was home for two weeks from Iraq, and we'd just met). All my friends kept saying "stalker!" Well, it was a Monday, September 12th actually, and I was pulling a double at my then job at a restuarant here in town (no, not a waitress--I don't have that kind of patience), and I had left a status message on my Yahoo that I was there and someone needed to come save me. It was probably around 5 or 6, I was in the back making some cheddar biscuits (flour, every where), when my shift leader came back to tell me someone, a cute guy, was there to see me. I really thought it was one of my school friends, but there he was, standing at the front counter.


We exchanged numbers (I guess since he was there, I felt it was okay to do so then but not before? lol), both shaking the whole time. I was nervous, but I think he was even more nervous! Years later, he admitted that he almost didn't call me. I was a mess, and didn't look anything like any of the pictures he'd seen. Glad he did though. :) We went out to dinner that night after I got off work, where he ended up telling me it was his birthday. We sat at Chilis until they started to close, and then went to go hang out at his room and keep talking. We spent the next day together, and he went home for a little over a week to MI. He called me every night. Even when he didn't have service (and believe me, LOTS of deadzones in the little town he's from), he'd drive down the road until he did, or would call me from a pay phone. :) We spent the last two days of his R&R together, and then I had to take him to the airport. 


Little did I know at the time, that this wouldn't be the last time I would have to do this. 


We kept in touch pretty regularly over the last four months of that deployment, and I picked him up when his plane landed on the airfield. There was a snag in our happiness, though--my mother. My family was getting ready to move to AZ, and she was bound and determined to get me to go. She started some drama, which luckily got sorted out after a week (thanks to Lethia, smacking some sense into him!), and he came an apologized to me on Valentine's Day (I had a second job at this point at the local arcade). Since that day, we've only gone twice without talking to each other, and have been like glue. 


I was living next to my parents at the time, and after they left, David started coming around more often. That summer, he moved in. He was getting ready to get out of the Army after being stop-lossed for a few months, and we were getting ready to move back to where he called home. I was excited, and nervous. But, I couldn't imagine not being with him, so I went. We were only up there eight months before he decided that the civilian life in Michigan was not what he thought it would be, and he re-enlisted. 


I remember the night we were talking about it (we were staying at his mom's house at this point, sleeping in the room he grew up in). He said he was going to go down to the recruiter. And I said, after we looked at each other for a few minutes, that I guess I needed to call the court house. That, was my marriage propsal. Ha. You see, the Army won't move a girlfriend, so we both knew what had to happen before everything was finalized with his paperwork. May 21st, we made it official down at the courthouse, with a co-worker of mine and a clerk at the office as our witnesses. Was it the wedding girls dream of? No. Did I have a beautiful gown? No. Do I care? No. All I cared about, was that I was now Mrs. David Eldridge.


We came right back to where he was stationed before, and within a week, I had my old job back (they missed my l33tness). We were fortunate to not have to wait on the on-post housing list for more than a week or so. We've been in this house since June 2007, which is more than I can say for most military families. We've been fortunate to be in the same place for so long. We weren't here long, however, before that ugly word was spoken: deployment. He left the first week of January 2008 for 15 months. I was depressed about it starting in October. I had a really hard time processing what was going on and what was going to happen that whole time. I'd dealt with part of deployment before, but not a whole one, and definitely not an extended one (12 months is standard for the Army). We had talked about it, and I knew it was going to happen, but I felt like it all came too soon.


It's a good thing we ended up back where we were. My best friend, Lethia lived literally, five minutes away, and I had other friends in town that were like family to keep me busy. I also became really good friends with my neighbor--whose husband left a week after mine. Even thought I thought it'd never end, the year passed, and in Feburary he was home. His tour was shortened to 14 months (big whoop, I thought), and when he got here, we started trying to get pregnant. 


Ah, planning to get pregnant. It actually began a month or two after he left. I don't know what came over me--I never wanted kids, but I wanted a baby. It started with an innocent comment about getting another cat since he wouldn't let me have a baby, and next thing I knew, we were planning on starting a family. I had a miscarriage in April, but in September, we sealed the deal. I found out the first Friday in October that we were expecting. I took the test before I went to work, and woke David up at 4:15 to tell him the news. He was so out of it that I had to tell him a few times before he understood what I said. I never wanted to stay home from work so bad in my life! I had a very hard time keeping my mouth shut--we planned on keeping it a secret until after we'd been to the doctor to confirm and wanted to wait to tell anyone until after we'd told his parents, who were coming down for Halloween.


We found out in January that we would be having a little boy. And, 9 days early, May 31st, I delivered our son. My pregnancy was easy as cake. And delievery was just as easy. I was only in labor a total of two hours. I had him within an hour of arriving at the hospital. Needless-to-say, I didn't have time for the coveted epidural that I had been wanting to get, but it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. He arrived at 23:19, weighing 6 pounds 14 ounces, measuring 19 1/2 inches long. I was supposed to call Lethia when we got into a room and she was going to be in the room when I had him... but, things went too quick, and around 1 or 2 I called her and she came up to the hospital (her husband was away at AIT at the time, otherwise, I'm sure she'd stayed home until morning, haha).


I still can't believe that was 6 months ago today. He's grown so much. And as parents, David and I have learned quite a bit. I still fumble along day to day, but it gets easier.


David and I knew the d-word would be happening shortly after our son was born, and I'd done all I could to prepare for it. He left the first week of November for another 12 month tour overseas. His fourth. By the time he gets home, he'll have 50 months overseas. (I counted. It's something I do. I'm just a number person. You'll learn this.)


I must say, that so far, this deployment has been very different than the last. Not only because I have a baby to take care of, but it just seems easier overall. I joke that I've just got tough skin, but I think it's mostly changes in my coping methods and my acceptance of things. I didn't cry much last deployment, but I did cry. And I did drink a lot. I don't really have the option of spending most of my days in a drunken fog anymore--which is probably for the best. I only have this one liver. And honestly, I haven't cried since we were saying goodbye. I don't have the same support system--Lethia is in NY now (sad face!) and my old neighbor moved before I even got pregnant--but I almost feel like it's not as necessary for me to have them this time around, if that makes much sense. Maybe I've just gotten better at being alone? I will say that deployments are time for the big girl panties to be put on. When he's home, I have a bad habit of playing the "I can't do this... will you help me?" card. As soon as he leaves though, independent Heather comes charging in! It's like this awesome transformation within myself, as cheesy as that sounds. ;)


Augh. Speaking of the night he left. That is only the second time I've ever seen that man cry--the first being when our son was born. Leaving his boy was the hardest thing he's ever had to do. And it was hard for me to watch. I really admire his strength. As hard as it is to stay here and raise our child by myself, I don't think I'd have what it takes to pick up and leave for a year.


So, that's the catch up. We are officially one month into this deployment. Eleven to go! I can promise I'll be around until then. Who knows after that. :)

And thus it begins!

Hello! It's far past my bed time (yes, as a mommy of a 6 month old, I have a set bed time.), but I wanted to at least get something published on here before I lay my head down. How much I type out will probably be determined by these factors: 1) how long the caffeine I've consumed today will hold up, and 2) whether or not mommy-brain strikes.


What the hell is "mommy brain?"


I know what it is, but I think it has struck, so here's a definition from UrbanDictionary.com:


Mommy Brain - The phenomenon known to mothers where their brains become useless piles of goo after being around their children for too long.


I love the internet. I swear since I gave birth I haven't had a complete thought. At least not one that didn't involve poop or feeding schedules... or sleep schedules... or whether or not I should vaccinate my child... augh! LA LA LA! I'm not listening! This is not Babycenter! (aka Sanctimommy central)


Anywho! So, as most of the population, I suppose, every few years I get the strong urge to start a blog. And I hit it head on for like... a week or two. And then it kinda just fades into the dark reaches of the interwebs, never to be seen again until someone (admittedly, me!) randomly Googles me or my internet handle to see what pops up. Do I think this will be another one of those blogs? Probably. Or hey, who knows, maybe I'll actually keep up with it for reals this time and end up with a few followers other than my BFF (shout out to Fae! <3 Who I am blaming this on, btw. She started to blog again. And somehow that made ME want to do it.) or other high school friends? Eh. Who knows? :) I have no plans to become attached to this thing. Maybe that's the key though? Setting high expectations often leads to pressure and the inevitable let-down that follows. We'll just keep this blogger-to-blog relationship relaxed and see how it goes this time around.


By the way, I'm going to go ahead and apologize now for any future typos/run-on sentences/incoherent thoughts. Spell-check can only do so much when fighting Mommy Brain. ;)


And I think, with that, we'll call it a night. Tomorrow (or whenever, ya know, keeping this chill) I'll get to the introduction of myself and why I feel the need to share my life with random strangers on the internet. We'll talk about how I got here and all that jazz. Until then, toodles!