Switching it up

Well...The Toddler will be starting a new daycare on Monday.

Not because I am moving, or have changed jobs, but because 'it's time for a change'...or at least that is what I am telling everyone not criticallly involved to keep the whole thing neutral.

You see, he's been going there since he was eight weeks old. Things were fine up until about December, then I started getting uncomfortable with how things were being done. I tried to chalk it up to being a overprotective mom who obsesses.

But then my kid got called spoiled and labeled as an 'only child...I can tell'. Gee thanks.

Then I was hounded for three weeks off and on about his attention span and not wanting to work on projects.

HE'S TWO. He has the attention span of a fart. Have you ever worked with two year olds? They want to PLAY not cut and paste.

I had a finger waved in my face over another attention span conversation.

Then I found a bruise on his ribs. A big hulking green and black bruise with a scratch mark. No one said a thing about it...nothing.

That was it.

I'd had enough.

So I full time enroll him at another daycare that I had already been researching, and turn in his two weeks notice...

Tripping before our Trip

I am a Type A , ragingly obsessive, overplanning freak of a person.

I obsess about vacations, road trips, trips to the grocery store, restaurant trips, innocent forays to a state park...all are mapped, planned, replanned, researched, plan B'd until they are nearly not worth going to visit because I now know everything there is to know about the location. Something that I do not go to everyday, or often, I need to learn everything about before I go...therefore there are no embarassing surprises and confusion.

I know where to park and how much parking will cost us.
I know where the bathrooms are, and what condition they are in.
I know their hours of business.
I know things to do and not to do while there.
I know discount deals and hidden non-advertised specials.
I will dig until I found the cheapest way in.
I will scour the internet to read reviews and weigh all the options.
I find little special things about each location. Hidden perks.
Do they take a credit card or do I need to bring all cash?
New restaurants...I will look their menu up online...read reviews...check out their website from top to bottom...

We're going on a cruise in April and then spending two days at Disney. Do you see what is coming?

Thank goodness we are avid cruisers and have cruised and visited Disney before (before the Toddler mind you). The groundwork research is already done, but there are so many new things to add on!

It took me three hours to decide on a hotel for this trip to stay over for ONE night on the way to Florida. Three hours of reading reviews, weighing the rates, reading more reviews, weighing more rates...of course I was also eating breakfast, taking a Toddler to pee pee, keeping an eye on my husband in the backyard using a huge piece of equipment called a stump grinder...but the majority of the three hours was research. I don't want to ever end up in a dump like we did on our second trip to Florida. That was frightening.

I have planned this thing forward and back. I have the money spelled out in the check register for the Fun Fund. Right down to the parking fees.

Dog Boarding HOLD $250
Parking at Pier HOLD $75
Parking at Disney HOLD $60 (four days)
Hotel HOLD $550
Hotel in SC HOLD $75

You get the point.

Yes, I have a problem.

I know where the characters do meet and greets at Disney.

I know when these meet and greets are supposedly not as busy.

I know of a quiet secluded area of deck space on our ship that hardly anyone uses.

I have researched the thunder out of an excursion we are taking in the Bahamas. I could probably tell the guide all about it at this point.

I am a planner. And yes, again, I have a problem. There has got to be a support group somewhere.

There is! Its websites like TripAdvisor that allow us to tell other fellow travellers how things REALLY ARE. I love that site.

I have a manilla folder that contains a slew of gift cards that I have earned in the past six months for prescription transfers (don't offer me a $25 gift card...I'll FIND a prescription that needs transferred) and the credit card points redeemed for gas cards.

I have also printed out ALL the confirmations for the hotel rooms, the character dining at Disney, our boarding pass for the cruise.

We will get our passports next week...and those will be packed.

By the time we leave that manilla folder will be bursting at the seams.

There will be extra pens in the folder...and phone numbers...and back up hotels to contact. There will be odd assortments of information like places where "KIDS EAT FREE!" and all that jazz.

And then...I will open it and reopen it no less than fifty times on the way to Florida...checking everything, to make sure it is there. Last vacation we took, the clasp came off I fiddled with it so much.

My husband doesn't mind it though...he doesn't have to worry about anything. He just asks me...'do we have?' and away I go. Digging and flipping and pulling out said information.

I have it all labeled, post it noted, paper clipped and filed in order of event.

It's insane.

But I LOVE it!

Skinny people clothes

I am on a diet...

*insert understanding nod here*

Which means I am cranky, foul, crabby, and starving most of the time. But I am determined to get 20 pounds off of my tail.

However, that 20 pounds doesn't want to move.

I've been hungry since the 8th of January, and have lost three pounds. Wow...three whole pounds.

Five years ago I was a size 22. My best friend (who abandoned me this summer and moved to Maine) started losing weight. I got tired of being the obligatory fat friend, so I worked on it. 75 pounds later, I was looking cute.

Then I got pregnant.

The day I had my son, I refused to let them weigh me. At that point I KNEW I was over 200 lbs and I didn't want to physically see that.

I lost ALL of my baby weight really fast. I am talking 10 pounds a week. By the time I went back to work 7 weeks later, I was close to my old weight.

Fast forward nine months until hubby came home from Iraq. During that nine months I hadn't even looked into a gym...but I was still at my cute weight...considering the child didn't let me eat anything but cereal at midnight.

Then suddenly I get to eat again, and go to restaurants, and stuff.

I am now knocking on 200 pounds again. Well...I'm on the sidewalk.

But this weight doesn't want to let go!

I'm doing WW points. Puhlease. I can't eat anything without wondering how many points it is. I am sick to death of broccoli and cauliflower and spinach... I want FOOD people. I don't want to eat another cup of yogurt, or a cheese stick. Yum.

I am calorie counting too...no more than 1500 a day. That's fine until dinner time. By that point I am ready to eat anything in the house if it isn't nailed down.

Six small meals a day, 1500 calories limit, moderate working out...that's how I did it before. Apparently my ass doesn't want to let go this time.

Ass....

I want to get on the scale this morning and be below 180 pounds. I can't get there. I am stuck at 181 with a nice roll of back fat, jiggly butt and jiggly thighs. I have a gorgeous muffin top that I can hide with sweatshirts, but in a few weeks, it's gonna be summerwear time, and I am going to be THAT person that can't wear anything.

Because they don't make clothes to fit semi-fat people. You are either skinny with bigger sizes to accentuate the bulges and stretch over the parts that are not skinny anymore, or you are plus size with nice clothes cut to skim over the bulges. I know, I was once a plus size. I am now in the category of 'gotta get this weight off my ass'.

I want to buy skinny clothes again, and not be tugging at my clothes all day. I want to not have my back fat roll out if my shirt happens to ride up and show off my tramp stamp.

I want this weight to BE GONE! Find a new home...find a hobby, just get off my ass!

All done

I grew up as an only child.

I was not spoiled as my parents were lucky to keep the bills paid, a roof over my head, and food on the table. I did learn how to work hard, and I have an awesome friendship with my parents.

My husband has a sister, but they don't talk much. I actually sent her an email yesterday to make sure she was still alive. She is.

My son will be an only child. There will be no more children in this house.

It's not a biological problem, so please no one feel terribly bad that I am barren or something. We decided that we are one and done, so to speak.

Our reasons, as I have to give to everyone because apparently we are freaks in society are as follows:

1: I had severe PPD after our son was born. My husband was in Iraq, I managed to draw 'the sickest kid ever' out of the genetic pool, and I have had issues with depression before. I really never ever ever want to go through that again.

2: Finances: Have you seen the cost of daycare now? I would be giving my entire paycheck over to these people. No thank you.

3: Lifestyle: We like being comfortable. We're just selfish like that.

4: My husband is military and is set to deploy again. I don't want to do it with two, alone, for another year, and have him miss out on everything AGAIN. That was fun enough the first time around. See number 1.

5: I just don't wanna.

But, here's the kicker. I've now developed a lovely case of Baby Fever, and it makes no sense to me whatsoever. I have never had Baby Fever. Our son was not the result of Baby Fever, he was the result of a 24 hr miscalculation in my cycle.

I sat gazing at a baby at the restaurant last night and wondering what it would be like to do that again with a baby that isn't running a 103 degree temperature and screaming his head off 24/7. Then of course, my dream last night was about us having another baby. His name was Isaiah (I had to type it three times to spell it right if that tells you anything), and I gave birth without the epirdural and it was NOT my old obstetrician (who would not deliver any more of my children even if I was having another one). But I digress.

My husband was so good during the dream, and there wasn't the stress and drama of our son's birth underlying everything. I locked down in labor for him to get there and refused to have the baby until he was there. Ever hear of a woman stopping her own labor? I did. I flat out refused. Plane delay or flood...our son was not coming until my husband got there. He got there many hours later, I shot to 8 cm and was pushing an hour later.

I'm a control freak, and my husband got his vasectomy done back over the summer. I don't want to get pregnant again, at least I didn't. But now I am all warm and fuzzy over the thought of it. Which is totally freaking me out!

I can't get pregnant. Thank goodness. The vasectomy took, and there are no swimmers. I can't sabotage birth control and make it happen. I don't think I would though...I really don't.

I feel lonely for our son though. He won't have any close cousins as we are hours from our nearest relatives (we like it like that), and no siblings. He'll just have to make friends like I did I guess.

My heart aches for him when I see two brothers playing together and tackling each other. He won't ever know that. Or the strained relationship of siblings that can't stand each other.

He wont' ever know what it's like, and it's all our fault.

We've mulled over adoption in a few years. Otherwise, it's just the pitter patter of one set of feet in our house.

But then I think of what he will have. We can provide a decent financial base for him to start out in life if we chose to release it. If my kid turns out to be a greedy turd, that dough is going towards momma having a big vacation.

He will have a close relationship with us, I hope.

He won't see mommy sitting in the middle of the living room floor sobbing for hours on end.

I think that one is the best reason of all.

Technology has Robbed us

Technology has robbed us my Fellow Americans.

It has taken one very satisfying frustration venting tool out of our lives. It is slowly being removed from our world.

No, its not the stupid squeezie ball thing they hand out everywhere. Seriously, who uses those anyway? My dog just chews them up and my toddler thinks they are 'icky'. What corporation keeps making these toxic balls of hardened goop with weird logos? Come on, we need more PENS, not weird squishy balls!

Anyway....

Its a slow progress of removal...one you may not have noticed yet...but you will soon.

You cannot , under any amount of stress and anger, hang up a cell phone and make an angry, vent satisfying, loud, attention gathering impact. It doesn't happen.

There is no satisfying SLAM of a landline phone back into its cradle. There is just a measley little 'beeeep' and a 'click' if you have one like mine, and that's it. Or if you have my husbands phone, there is a 'swoosh' when you hang up.

WOW...that's just scary.

'Swoosh'.

What was that? Was that an ANGRY 'swoosh', or just a 'swoosh'?

You can push that red button really hard, and make gutteral noises and angry faces at the phone itself, but its just not the same.

Go ahead, try it....I'll wait. Get your cell phone out and hang it up in an angry manner...do it hard! Be angry at the cell phone.






See....not much venting satisfaction with pressing really hard on the little red button.

Not the same. Not even close to that satisfying slam of a land line phone back into its cradle. Or the classic 'missed the cradle and get even madder' moment when you get to slam it again and again.

You can't make your co workers jump with a 'beeeep' and a 'click' can you? Or even a 'swoosh'.

They aren't going to look out of their cubes to make sure you are ok.

They aren't going to whisper amongst themselves about you acting out.

Nope...business as usual, because no one heard the 'beeeeep' and 'click' , or 'swoosh' when you angrily closed that cell phone.

However, with a cell phone, you CAN sling it after you have angrily punched the little red button really hard. Just make sure you sling it onto a soft surface, or you're out a cell phone.

Not at a co worker please.

It's still not the same.

Farewell angry hanger upper...we will miss you!

Well, what am I going to do about it?

Standing in the kitchen the other night, my husband looks at me and asks 'Do you want me to deploy?'

Now, how in the hell am I supposed to answer this question?

Yup, I want you to leave me for a year to sixteen months, alone, with our son, while you journey off to a desert region and deal with all that mess. Yup, every girl's dream there darling.
'No... I don't want you to deploy,' was my answer. But so far, that Army thing really doesn't consult me when it comes to deployment rotations. And we are facing another one, rolling up fast.

You see, I had the unfortunate, actually fortunate, luck of getting pregnant November 2006. My husband deployed in August 2007. Do the math. He made it to our son's birth with three hours to spare, spent four days with him, and didn't see him again until he was 10 months old. Thankfully, our child had some kind of psychic gift, knew who Daddy was right off the bat, and never blinked an eye.

I spent the first year as a new mom, on my own. Except for my own mom, who moved in with me and completely took over and made me nuts for about four months, I did it on my own. That's a whole other story. I am grateful she helped me. But sometimes help comes with a huge price.

I really never ever ever ever ever want to do that again. Therefore, we are not having any more children. I honestly began to wonder why people choose to be single parents. Divorce I get, widowed I get, but to just be a single parent for the heck of it...give me a break. I was trying to work, keep the house going, keep the kiddo well for more than ten seconds straight, and keep my sanity. Who in their right mind would do that ON PURPOSE!

Yup...I want you to deploy...right now, so I can do the single mom thing all over again. It was great.

But I know it's his job and it's what the Army does. Not a huge shock there. My husband and I have been together 17 years, married 11, I think I get it by now.

This time will be different though. Our Kiddo is older. He's not as sick. I have my head together. But, my husband will miss our son so much, and he will miss his Daddy so much...and Mommy will miss him so much too. There's email, and Facebook, and webcams. It helps. But when you have to shut down the computer after a web chat, and you proceed to sit and bawl yourself stupid for thirty minutes, then you don't want to put yourself through that again.

We'll know what to expect after Homecoming. It really sucks about two weeks later when all the resentment finally breaks in. And then there's that stress they've been under that starts rolling out in the weirdest places...like on the highway, as they dodge IED's on the side of the road...in America...where we don't really have a lot of IED activity the last time I checked.

Then it takes a day for every day he was gone to get our lives back together. I really didn't think we were going to make it last time. New baby in the house. Stressed out Mommy. Stressed out Daddy. It was not the best time there for a while.

But we did it, and I really don't want to do it again...but what am I going to do about it?

The Army is my husband's mistress, and sometimes that Bitch gets all the attention.

My kid has a gift

Well...today is the Munchkin's appointment with his pediatrician to do his pre surgery physical. Ear tubes are being put in, for the second time, on Wednesday.
My son has a gift.
He gets ear infections.
Lots of ear infections.
As of today, we are on lucky number 21.
He's two. Do the math.
If I was playing a game of BlackJack, I would be thrilled.
We're not playing BlackJack.
The first ear infection was on December 4th, 2007. 103 degree fever at 2am with a new mom, a four month old, and a husband in Iraq quickly adds up to a frantic trip to the emergency room. I was terrified! Thus, I very clearly remember the date. It's one of those 'where were you when...' moments for me.
He's had 20 ear infections since then. Yup...20 more. Some with high fevers, some with drainage, some with lots of crying on everyone's part.
Tubes put in at 6 months, adenoids removed at 11 1/2 months. Allergists, ENT's, doctors, nurses, nutritionists, chiropractors. Thank goodness we have good insurance...
They slowed down, and I will say we had a six month stretch without a problem!
But the ear infections are baaaack with a vengence. To the point I have my own otoscope at home.
We are making strides though. We've dropped dairy, which has really helped with the snot that he is really good at collecting. So this last ear infection hasn't been as nasty as the one before.
By the way, rice milk tastes like watered down coffee creamer.
I'm tired of my kid being miserable.
I'm tired of checking his ears all the time.
I'm tired of my toddler being so used to having his ears checked that he asks 'do I have goop mom?' when I do. No toddler should ever lay perfectly still to have his ears checked and ask if they have goop.
I want them to stop...please.
But he did pee pee in the potty this weekend...even in public bathrooms. So maybe he's trading his talents...we can only hope!