About Me

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Married to GI Joe, and the Mother to GI Joe Jr (whom is currently addicted to the Wonderful World of Superheroes), I'm a WV Hillbilly plunked down in a subdivision. I have a backyard garden, crazy neighbors, and a goofy dog that we love on Tuesdays. We love to travel and explore new things, so feel free to browse our life. Sometimes it is exciting, most of the time it is just life. But we are having a good time at it.

Monday, May 30, 2011

Plague upon Our House

Ok...so the Husband was SICK.

Then after he left...I was SICK.

I thought for sure...that the Toddler Tween was safe, since it had been so long since all the illness had started in our house. 

I was very very wrong.

Toddler Tween started coughing a little last Friday. 

I would stop and listen.  Nah, just drainage cough...yeah, that's it. 

It can't be the Plague.

Then he was ok on Saturday.

Then the deep barking cough started on Sunday.

I immediately pulled the nebulizer and all of its components out of the closet and started his trusty Pulmicort treatments.  Double the strength.  Twice a Day.

Monday he's Ok..

Tuesday...he's coughing more.

And the cough got worse.

And worse.

So after my Surgeon appointment on Wednesday, we drove to the Pediatric Urgent Care place and saw a Doc. 

She listened, they Xrayed...kiddo had bronchitis.  Keep doing what I am doing.

Thursday...the cough was really bad when I picked him up from daycare.  His teacher said he had had a rough day.

He did ok on the ride home, and we went to dinner for some Chicken Fettuccine with Broccoli.  One bite and he informs me 'I need to 'fro up'

We race to the bathroom, and get there in the nick of time.

Poor guy.

Once we were done, and I cleaned him, and the bathroom up...I hurriedly made our way back to our table, informed my mother she was taking him out to the car...practically boxed my dads dinner while he still had a forkful and we got out of there. 

He was fevered.

Of course he was....he was coughing up his toes...

The pediatrician was closed for the Holiday weekend...goodie. 

Let's see what happens overnight. 

I left him home with my parents on Friday while I went to work for part of the day. 

My mom reported he wasn't eating, coughing up his toes, and still running a fever. 

Once we shut down the office, I picked him and my mom up and back to the Pediatric Urgent Care and guess what...



So Toddler Tween has been on 'Roids for a few days, and mega doses of an antibiotic....and lots and lots of breathing treatments...he's doing ok today...four days later.

Just how I wanted to spend Memorial Day weekend...playing lots and lots of Play Doh.

I depsise playing Play Doh. 

I'm so sick of Play Doh.

But it keeps him occupied...thankfully.

He is doing better though...

I won't be sending him to Daycare tomorrow...one more day of 'stay at home in my pajamas' and I will feel more comfortable.

It'll take one coughing jag and him puking...and I'll get the call to come and get him because he is throwing up.

Deployment Disaster Number One.


Wednesday, May 25, 2011

The Good Doc

Today was the day.

To go get mashed, poked, prodded, and sonogrammed.

I will admit, on the drive there, I was OK.

Got to the office...I was OK.

Got to the little room...I was starting to talk a hundred miles a minute and giggle.


The nurse and I shared a bond.  Husbands that were Deployed.

So I got left to change into the very fashionable flowered 'cape'.

And I waited...and waited.

Sitting on the table was uncomfortable, so I resorted to standing against the wall, and reading my book.

Otherwise, I was going to start pacing...in my hot flowered cape.

Then the Good Doc came in.

I like the Good Doc. 

Precisely why I didn't call my OB on Monday morning.  She would have had me come in, wait a few hours, feel the lump, send me for a sonogram, find the lump, send a report back and THEN send me to the Good Doc.

I cut a lot of crap out and called the Good Doc. 

He poked.  He prodded.  He felt my good ol' Lactating Adenoma on the right side.


He poked.  He prodded.  He found the new Pain in the Breast.



Hmmmmm...he says. 

Hmmmmm?  What the hell does Hmmmmm  mean!?

Poke...poke...stroke...poke.  POKE.

So he literally marks and X over the spot...and goes to get the sonogram machine, and his nurse.

I am left alone...

And now is when I get scared. 


What the hell does HMMMMM mean?!

In they wheel the sonogram machine...ultrasound machine...whatever it is...thing with the wand and gel stuff.


Where have I heard that before?!

I am literally keeping my eyes shut tight.  I don't want to see the screen. 

I don't want to see his face.

I don't want to see her face.

This is it...the Big C finally caught up with me.

"That's a nice little fibroadenoma you have there.  Do you drink a lot of caffeine?"

My eyes pop open. 

Caffeine?  Uhm...Yes.

I don't admit to how much...like four cups of coffee in the morning and about six Diet Mtn Dews a day. 

I am NOT kidding.

"Stop the caffeine.  Soon."


"You're breasts are full of fibroadenomas.  This one just happens to have gotten irritated or angered"

Yes, he said 'angered'.

Bitch felt angered.  It HURTS.

"Come back in ten weeks...we'll take another peek.  You're fine"

And he patted my shoulder and smiled.

I almost choked up, but I was so relieved that I just 'uhm hmmmm'd him.

So I was sent home with a prescription for 'essential iodine' to help shrink the Pain in the Breast.

Not sure what that is all about...I haven't sucked it up and Dr Googled it yet.

And I have to cut back the caffeine, and wean myself off...or apparently I am going to have more of these.

You know...like I didn't need anymore stress....

I like my coffee...and my Dew.

Caffeine Free Diet Mtn Dew...it does exist...however they do not sell that in my state.  But they do where my In laws live. 


Sunday, May 22, 2011

I get to make a call tomorrow

I get to call my OB tomorrow.

Because my left breast HURTS.

And has been hurting for a month.

Right now, I would like to twist it off and be done with it. 

Thought it was just my underwire bras...so I bought a bunch of shapeless no wire bras.

That helped for a day, and now the blinking burning hot probing pain is back.

Thought it was stress, because well, we've had a little stress in this house lately.

I played it off as reaction to the amount of caffeine I have been drinking.  See above.

Convinced myself it was a pulled muscle from helping The Husband pack and haul his stuff outside...even though it had started way before then.

I know it is another fibroadenoma...but with my history, and especially that stupid booger in the left breast, I need it checked out.

Can't put it off any longer...cause it HURTS.


Saturday, May 21, 2011

Here's what happens...

Toddler Tween used to be a HUGE Sesame Street Fan.

Then he discovered CARS.

Followed by Thomas the Train.

He hasn't watched a SINGLE episode of Sesame Street in probably nine months.

His Big Bird, Ernie, Bert, and Snuffy were packed away upstairs when we did the house purge back in January.

And I cleaned out the DVD collection last week and resold 99% of them to a consignment shop for a sweet price.

Last night, I ask Toddler Tween... "What movie do you want to watch tonight?"

He answers "Sesame Street...Big Bird Movie"

O. M. G.

I had saved two Sesame Street DVDs...that was it.  Big Bird Sings and the 25th Anniversary Musical Celebration.

I knew he didn't really mean either of those...but I gave it a go.

So I stuck in the 25th Anniversary and hoped for the best.

He was satisfied and watched it. 

Then we went to bed...with Big Bird and Snuffy.   That I had to go find out in the attic.  In the box.   With the other Sesame Street characters, that are now littering my living room...AGAIN.

This morning...he wants to watch Big Bird again.

O. M. G.

So I replayed the 25th Anniversary...and he was ok with that.

But the problem hit after nap.  He wanted "the Big Bird movie with the Dodo's"

You know Follow that Bird.

The movie that I DEFINITELY do not own anymore.

I stuck in Big Bird Sings...and he watched that.  Until it ended...and there were no Dodo's.

I was in a pickle.

So I explained, with a sad face and apologies...that I had given that movie to another little boy.

I was not about to mention that I sold it for store credit.

He hadn't watched it but maybe twice...how was I to know that as soon as I cleaned out the DVD rack that he would have a sudden resurgence of interest towards Sesame Street?

Netflix only has one Watch Instantly video too...dang it.

But I am set if he decides he wants to watch Backyardigans for 24 hours straight.  They have LOTS of those.

Friday, May 20, 2011

Riddle Me This...

During our foray to see Thomas the Train in Baltimore MD, we stayed at a hotel that had very good reviews and was in a good location.

The price was OK, but for Inner Harbor, that's pretty much what you pay.

We had an OK experience.  It wasn't a hotel I would seek out to stay in again, and it wasn't so bad that I checked out early and am still grossed out about (that story to be fully posted later once the credit card dispute is taken care of).

I wrote my unbiased good/bad review this weekend on TripAdvisor, as I do with nearly every property we stay in.  I heavily depend on TripAdvisor when looking for a new hotel, and I feel it is necessary that my opinion be posted along with those that I depended on.

I'm mouthy.

Within an hour of my post clearing their review, I was contacted via email by the Hotel Manager.

He was very apologetic...especially the part where the check out clerk kept saying Toddler Tween was 'pissed'  'really pissed'  'he's pissed isn't he?' because we were leaving and he wanted to go see Thomas again.

I was taken aback, but as my kid was yelling his lungs out in the atrium, I didn't ask to see her manager.

The other problem was the fact that we had reserved a two queen/1 bedroom suite and ended up with the teeny tiny 1 king/1 bedroom suite with a pullout sofa.

For my good/bad review...the manager is giving me a free weekend next year to try their property again.


Cause I am really having a fit with the property from last weekend that wanted us to be closer to nature and left the remnants of the dog and human that had slept in the bed there for me to find.  Boogers, hair, greasy body print and all.

I just want my second night refunded.  That's all...I'll pay for the first night.

But nope. 

Uhmmmm?  What?

Monday, May 16, 2011

Well...that's done

After an adventurous weekend complete with a bottle of ruined Augmentin, dirty sheets at our cabin retreat that resulted in the owners showing up at 10pm after I left a not-so-happy message on their 'emergency voice mail', and a new hotel that cost us out the nose but was fantastic...we are done.

The Husband has shipped off to his Mobilization Station...and then will head Over There.

Not being hugely pregnant and dealing with all that emotional drama...it was actually just a touch easier this time.

The Deployment Ceremony was formal and unemotional.  It was crowded and hot...and they got to spend the night with us that night.

Not like last time, when they marched them out and they were GONE.

I'm not saying it was the most fun thing in the world.

Nor something I ever want to do again.

But I did manage to NOT cry the entire drive home this go round.

And I did not sit in the parking lot with an entire roll of toilet paper in my hands like one wife.

But The Husband had to report at 5am this morning, and get on his way.

My tears started rolling at 6am when I realized it was time for me and Tween Toddler to depart the Armory.  The soldiers were getting rather busy.  We were in the way.

We needed to yank off the Band Aid...it was time.

So I sobbed all the way out the door as The Husband carried Tween Toddler to the truck.

Tween Toddler kept asking "Daddy are you not going home with us?"  "Daddy are you going to Drill?"  "Mommy...you are silly...why are you crying?"

We managed to get in the truck...say our goodbyes and I pulled out of the parking lot.

Two blocks away I get a phone call.

It's The Husband.

He has Tween Toddler's watch...


So I have to do this freaking again.

Back we go...Tween Toddler is excited to see his watch...tells Daddy 'Thank You!' and proceeds to do as all Tween Toddler's do...find something else to holler about.

We say our goodbyes again...and we are out of there.

About an hour down the interstate, The Husband's bus passed us.

That was cool.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Date Night

So The Husband is SICK.

Like raging-cough-sneezing-fits-snot-snorting-oh-my-god-will-you-stop kind of SICK.

You know the kind...where you start looking at your spouse/child/co worker and willing them silenty to STOP THE COUGHING!    And then you want to start throwing something at them.  Then you sigh everytime they cough.  Finally it progresses to 'Really!?!' everytime they start up again.

He couldn't help it.

Having two parents that chain smoked really didn't set him up very well.

So sick...his Command sent him home early last week so that I could take him to the doctor..AGAIN.

I guess they couldn't take it anymore and got him away from them so that they could hear themselves during the briefings.
And we were at the clinic for two hours.

While he coughed...and coughed...and coughed...

Did I mention he was coughing?

I had a moment with the Physicians Assistant. 

Because she said it had to run its course...as he started hacking up another lung.

Eh hmmm...uhm...this is our third time here...in three weeks.

Really don't want to see you EVERY Friday...sooooo....

Here goes:

We don't have time for course running sweetheart...he needs a steroid, and an inhaler, and some Azythromycin...please and thank you.
Oh yeah...and some Mega Make This Guy Stop Coughing Cough Medicine.
And then I smiled.
Cause I was sick of hearing him hack.

And he leaves in a few days...and I don't want to be annoyed with him over the COUGHING.

Then we had a date...because my parents were watching The Tween Toddler for the evening while I hauled Mucous Boy all over the place.

We ate Taco Bell while sitting in the parking lot waiting on his prescriptions.

It was kinda fun and really nice.

And a lot more expensive than it used to be.

I remember a Soft Taco Supreme being 89 cents.

That sucker is like $1.67 now!

So for a Chicken Gordita, a Soft Taco Supreme (cause he hadn't eaten in four days and really wasn't hungry but I made him eat so he could get doped up in the pharmacy parking lot once they were through putting stickers on the boxes of medicines they pulled off the shelf)...and two drinks...it was almost $10!

Hell...are you kidding?

But it was a nice date...at 10pm...in the Pharmacy parking lot.

And he coughed...

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Where's My Village?

I’m not a huge fan of Hillary Clinton…but she made a point a number of years ago when she wrote her book “It takes a Village”

I’d like to ask…Where is my damned village?

The Husband is getting ready to leave for Over There.

I’m going to be alone with The Toddler (almost a Preschooler…he’s kind of a Toddler Tween now) and I am schlepping him on a stupid long commute every morning, and schlepping him on a stupid long commute every evening.

And slinging crap food on the table…with the TV turned on…while I run around like a mad woman feeding Dog and Cat…and doing laundry…and keeping a slight semblance of order.

Then we go to bed...well Toddler Tween does...I don't.  

Hell…I had to hire a housekeeper to keep up with my own freaking life.

We’re all tired.

And I don’t think it was meant to be like this.

When our Warriors go off to battle…the Women and Children and Old would be left behind to tend to the Village, take care of things…TOGETHER.

I’m alone in my house, with the Toddler Tween…the Dog…the Cat…

I don’t have any one to field the kid so that I can cook…

I don’t have any one to field the kid so that I can forage…alone…in silence…

I don’t have any one to share in raising my child.

Except The Husband…whom by the way…is LEAVING.

And I get that is how the modern family is supposed to work…but I think we jumped off the Village Train a little fast.

I would have made a heck of a mid wife…doctor…gardener chick…

I want to go home right now and poke something in the dirt and watch it grow.

I’ve brought bags of lettuce and arugula and parsley and dill and mustard greens in to the co workers this week.


This is what I am SUPPOSED to do.

Not what I AM doing.

My primordial instincts are telling me so.

I am NOT supposed to be sitting behind a desk all day.   


I’m exhausted…I’m stressed…my freaking neck hurts.

Best Friend is along with me…and I quote “As long as I am going to continue to retain water for a trek across the desert, and grow hair all over my body to keep warm…then give me the Village and shove this shit”

Cause I am tired.

We are all tired…

And I feel like something is missing.

I need to find my Happy.

But Happy doesn’t pay the mortgage, or electric bill.

I need to find it though.

Yeah…I get the wonders of Modern Medicine.  And I am glad to have given birth during an era of which most women survive childbirth. 

And the whole typhoid thing scares the beejeebers out of me.

And the infant mortality rate…

We are modern people now.

We can have a Village with modern amenities right?

I’m sure I can find a pile of over stressed working women and men willing to trade in their commute and suits and heels for some Village Life.

My requirements…running water, flush toilets, electricity…close to good shopping and fine dining (didn’t say we were going all primitive here) and some sanity.

That’s all.

Who’s with me?

Cause I think we missed something here…about two generations ago.

Don't get me wrong though...I will keep shaving my legs...Village or no.

Monday, May 2, 2011

Thomas the Tank Engine...oh the joy of Marketing

The Husband and I have been planning this HUGE trip to Baltimore MD to do the whole Day Out With Thomas adventure.

Insert yet another Thomas Marketing Ploy here.

But we knew The Toddler would love it…and we had never been to Baltimore…so why not?

We purchased the tickets TWO DAYS before The Husband got the notice of this Deployment.

Guess which weekend he wasn’t going to be available…

Go ahead...bet you can't guess.

You guessed it…the weekend we had just freaking purchased.

So I called, and begged them to change our tickets.

Pulled the whole 'military family' card...

And those lovely people did…without much hassle at all.

Thank you!

We didn’t tell The Toddler at all…it was a BIG SURPRISE.

This past Wednesday I told him that the Surprise was going to knock his socks off…

He proceeded to chew that over a moment then informed me ‘Mom…I wanna keep my socks and shoes on for my Surprise’

All righty then…

On Friday, we drove north…I hate our GPS.

It kept wanting to take us out ‘unnamed roads’. 

Yeah…I want to go on an ‘unnamed road’ in an unfamiliar area.  No.

I know Baltimore is north of me…via I-95 N…we’re good.

Arrived at hotel without much drama…checked in…got in room…settled in. 

Toddler proceeds to have fit of all fits to keep from going to bed.  He actually fell asleep while I was reading him a story. 

He was tired.

We all slept in thankfully.

We wandered around The Inner Harbor area…which I find to be a tad overrated but I am not huge into chain restaurants and bars.  The shops were not on our side of the water, and we have the same ones back home anyway.

The ships were cool…the Aquarium (for the three hours we were there in ONE section) was pretty amazing.  My son was the most thrilled by the diver in the tanks cleaning the windows. 

$70 in admission tickets later, he is still talking about the girl diver getting her regulator hose hung on a rock. 

His daycare teacher heard about that FIRST this morning.

Then it was time to head back to the Hotel to get to Thomas.

The Toddler was beside himself with joy…not really.

Until we gave him the stuff we had ordered with the tickets.  His engineers hat, his Thomas Train Whistle, his Thomas badge on a rope (whatever that is called).

Out the door we went…to the B&O Railroad Museum.

And we arrived…and there were a million gazillion little boys with their hats, and whistles, and Thomas stuff…

Then THOMAS rolled by! 

The Toddler knew then what having his socks knocked off meant…and I got all choked up.

Yes…I did.  I’m a sicko like that.  I like seeing my kid thrilled…and he was THRILLED.

I waved like an idiot on crack as the conductor rolled by…and it was AWESOME.

We checked in…and started our fun.

Sir Tophamm Hatt was the first stop.  SCORE.  We only waited a few minutes in line. 

The Toddler stood nicely next to the poor guy in that big fat suit with the solid head (The Toddler noticed that he wasn’t real…but that occurred to him much later in the day).  While in line, I got to talking to the nice gentleman that was keeping the line in order.  Apparently, the day before…Sir Tophamm Hatt passed out. 

And had to be wheeled out by the EMTs.

In front of all the kids.

One…I hate that I missed that.

Two…I’m glad that I missed that.


Explain that one to your two or three year old.

Once he posed for his photo…we went and found other fun.

The model train yard…

The bounce houses…

The pony rides….

The petting zoo…

The train tablesssssss....yes...tablessssssss.  All covered up with the Under Four Foot barely producing Testesterone Crowd.

Everything was awesome.  Lots to do...lots to see...a comfort station for changing diapers and feeding the babies.  

The staff was super friendly and helpful...and very kind. 

And each one took the time to make The Toddler feel super special.

Then there was the store…the Thomas Threw Up Over Here Store.

But I was really impressed.

They didn’t gouge on the merchandise.  I paid what I would have paid at Target or Toys R Us.

However, I was not in any need for Thomas The Train hand sanitzer…nor was I needing a Thomas the Train ice pack.

The Toddler picked out Diesel 10 as his prize.

We get outside…he opens Diesel 10…Diesel 10’s claw doesn’t extend.

Duh…I could have told you that…but to a three year old…that has been so good all day…this was the breaking point.

So back into the Thomas Threw Up Over Here Store to buy another train.

The Husband is a Sucker.

He bought a boat instead…Bulstrode I think.  I have no idea.  Swear…they put the character in ONE show and make a whole marketing theme on that ONE character.

He was happy.

We milled around a bit more…and then it was time to RIDE THOMAS.


A few things here:

One….when standing in line, and a family asks me to take their picture, I do the best I can.

I count to three...I line up the photo...I do good.

Why in the hell can’t any one give me the same damned courtesy?

Why do I always get the half assed attempt at someone attempting to take a photo when I have put plenty of effort in theirs?


Because seriously…it took us five different attempts at a photo…and it still sucks.

We are standing in FRONT of Thomas…yes, we want THOMAS in the PHOTO.


But I digress.

We usher into the train…

We sit down.

We wait.

We wait.

Then we start slowly backing up and they start playing Thomas music.

And we back up for ten minutes.

Past junk, some more junk…oh look, there some junk with graffiti painted on it.

People standing by tracks…

More junk…

More odd people….

More odd people probably getting ready to tag some more junk when we are out of eye sight.

Then the train pulls forward….

Past junk, some more junk…oh look, freshly graffittied junk.

Here is where they could have done ONE small thing and made this a lot more fun, and distracted us all from the ‘view’.

Sing alongs! 

If you are going to play the music…have a sing a long…its easy...invite the kids to sing along.

Do some trivia for the kids to answer (shout at).

Some interaction.

Cause this was a snoozer.

The kid behind us went to sleep.

His parents spent $60 on tickets, for him to doze off.

Uh huh.

But our Toddler LOVED it.

So much he had to be carried off…because he didn’t want to leave.

He screamed…he kicked…he pouted…he sat down.

He threw himself across the bench in front of Thomas and refused to have his photo taken…

I took it anyway.

On his sixteenth birthday, I’m going to share everyone his tail sticking up in the air in front of Thomas the Tank Engine…having a meltdown.

And I had to laugh….it was just too funny.

My poor child…

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