-Alright. Today is Thanksgiving 2011.
I'm not committing gluttony on pounds of turkey, gravy or pecan pie (I typed puh-con, not pee-can) this year. Or watching the Macy's Day Parade. Or taking my turn at the table saying what I'm most thankful for. Those things are like hunting pastel eggs on Easter, opening up overstuffed stockings on Christmas morning and getting smashed on July 4th- we all do it but it has nothing to do with the holiday itself.
-So another year home alone for this holiday, I'm trying not to focus on the fact that I'm not washing down my sister's famous green bean casserole with a big glass of iced tea, and focus instead on the true meaning of Thanksgiving.
>Over the years the literal meaning of the Thanksgiving celebration has dramatically changed. No, we don't celebrate the year's awesome harvest with a giant stuff-yo-face-barf-repeat feast, but the age-old tradition of being thankful for our many blessings is still there. Hopefully.
-I, for one, have an infinite list of things to be thankful for this year.
>The cherry on top is the fact that it was important to my parents to teach me about God. We weren't front and center every single Sunday, we didn't always say grace before meals and we sho nuff didn't carry Bibles in our back pockets. Not that those things define you as a person of faith- not what I'm saying. My parents sent me to church camp every summer- some of the best times of my childhood. Had my parents not told me about Jesus and His love, I would've had to find Him on my own- who knows how long that would've taken. Every good thing in my life- He put there. Every person in my life- He put there. Even my old, lung-hacking, mean as all get out neighbor- God gave him to me for some reason. All my experiences and memories- God allowed me to have. Without Him, well...I wouldn't even be here today writing this, but without him in my life....that's just a scary thought. I keep seeing the same saying every time I'm on Pinterest- "What if you woke up today with only the things you thanked God for yesterday?" True, right? I thank God every day for the blessings in my life- who/where would I be without those things/people?
>Nine years ago this month I was almost taken from this Earth- just a few days before Thanksgiving. I am thankful each year to be here celebrating another Thanksgiving- be it by myself or with 10,000 people, I'M HERE! And I'm thankful- not just on the 4th Thursday of every November, but each day.
>At the end of my freshman year of high school my dad got orders for the first time in 18 years to move. We were nothing short of devastated. We'd lived in the same town forever. That night we went to church to meet up with our pastor seeking some comfort and encouraging words. He had something to say for each of us about how this move would bring positive changes into our lives. When it was my turn he said a few things, but the only thing that really stuck in my 14-year old head was, "...and who knows, Rebecca, you may meet the love of your life in Alabama." "Ewe," "Yuck," "Gross," and "Rednecks!" were the only thoughts I could muster! As luck would have it, I DID meet the love of my life in Alabama. And far from "redneck" was he! It was his first time in the States- we actually met just a week or so after he got there. I was 18, he was 21. It was just...supposed to be. I thank God every day for this man! He is, hands down, the most amazing person I've ever met in my life. (I'm totally bawling right now!) I said once if I could be like anyone in the world, I'd be just like him. It hurts to breathe when I think about how much I love him. I hope to never, ever, ever take him for granted. Every little girl dreams of growing up and being a princess and meeting her prince charming. Well, I'm sorry little girls...Prince Charming is taken! :)
I am grateful to infinity and beyond for my husband/partner/soul mate/best friend/baby-daddy. (Sorry, I had to throw baby-daddy in there, it was getting too serious.)
>I am out of words to express how thankful I am for our little angel, Junior Gator Chittlin' Frank. We aren't announcing his name until his birth...so as you can imagine he has acquired many nicknames in the mean time. Poor baby. Some people just call their baby-in-waiting "peanut" or "bean" or...hell, I don't know...anything but "Gator" or "Chittlin'." Anyway, we tried for 10 months to get pregnant and thankfully after only 10 months were referred to a fertility specialist. Turns out I have real lazy ovaries, or something known as PCOS. So, for me, getting pregnant without any help is like playing Russian Roulette. One day I'll bore the socks off of you and blog more about this. Everyone talks about the love you'll have for your children as something indescribable. Unmeasurable. A love unlike anything you've ever felt before. Well, no convincing needed here- I can't put ol' Gator Chittlin's 3D ultra sound pictures down for longer than a half hour. I am so obsessed with this little boy and he's not even here yet. Better yet, I am THANKFUL for the precious little angel we have been blessed with. Now hurry up and get here, Ol' Frank!
>My family. My crazy, dysfunctional, wonderful, beautiful family. Family is strange. God chooses a group of people for you and calls them your "family." These people will hurt and piss you off worse than anyone else in the world. At the end of the day, they're still your family. You better love these people (even if it needs to be from a distance) because they're God's (non-refundable, non-returnable, non-exchangeable) gift to you, as you are to them. And you don't treat gifts from God as trash. You cherish them, and are THANKFUL for them. I have a few family members that I'm not exactly.....close with. But I ain't gonna lie, sometimes I just want my family. Every one of them. Drama and all. I just want to see them, hug them, be with them. At least once a week, I just want to crawl (with my big pregnant arse) in my moms lap and have her rub my back. I wanna be spoiled by mom, cut up with my sisters, roll on the carpet with my nieces. Great, now I'm a freakin' mess again.
>While I was just getting myself back together, my father-in-law called. Which brings me to my next point. My awesome, amazing in-laws. Seriously, there cannot be any sweeter in-laws than mine! I have a great relationship with both of Reesh's parents. Since the day I decided to move here they have been fully supportive of everything in our lives. I know so many other people who are way less fortunate than I am with their in-laws, and it's such a pity. God has blessed me with TWO families. How awesome is that? Very thankful for my family-in-love. :)
>My amigos. How would we survive this world without friends? Unlike our families, we can choose these folks. Some come and go, some will stay a lifetime. Some are just good for having a good time, some you can trust your life with. Either way, we'd go crazy with no friends. So I am very thankful for the people God has put in my life to keep me company. 8:00-5:00 can be a long time when you're not working, hahaha. OH! Speaking of friends. I've got a girlfriend, Red. I got to see her for the first time in like 7 years last month while I was back in the States. She's a strong woman of God and lives her life accordingly. When I saw her last she went on and on about wanting to become a mom, but wasn't sure if it was her "time" yet or not. But I could hear the pain in her voice- she really wanted to be pregnant. All the while, she WAS pregnant and just didn't know it yet. Yesterday she had her first OB appointment and got to see her precious little miracle already at only 8 weeks. Today her and her husband are making the big announcement to the family. God is good. And seeing my friend so happy does my heart good. Love you, Red. You and sweet baby G.R. :)))
On another friend note, I was supposed to be all alone today. I had a lunch date planned for tomorrow, but my girlfriend called me and rescheduled for this afternoon! Cha-ching! I didn't tell her right away how excited I was, but I let her know today over lunch. Which btw, I did prepare with a bit of sliced deli turkey meat. Woot woot! So, after all I was not as pathetic today as I had anticipated. Thank you, God, for my friends. :)
>Another thing I'm very thankful for is Reesh's job. In today's day and time, we're lucky he even has a job. He LOVES his job! LOVES IT! Had it not been for his job, we would have never met. (Or would we have....I go back and forth on this question.) Either way, it sure helped! His job supports our family- we have a roof over our heard, clothes on our back and food on the table, and THAT is enough to be thankful for.
-Aside from these things (and they weren't intentionally set in any order) there's about a million materialistic things I'm thankful for.....but those aren't nearly as important.
I hope anyone reading this (if anyone is....cricket cricket...) takes the time, not just today but everyday, to remember to be thankful for all that you have- even if you don't think it's much.
Happy Thanksgiving, Y'all!
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
There's some good energy flowin'
-Had a nice day today with a nice third-world friend. Sorry, K, if you're reading this. (She's from Macedonia. One time I was telling a story and made reference to people from "third world countries"...there was a moment, she said something, then we both busted a gut laughing.) We have a funny friendship anyway. We barely understand each other, and when we do maybe it's better if we hadn't of. We're just too funny, what can we say? Anyway, we "get" each other. OH! And today I taught her the expression "I got a wild hair up my butt"-- unfortunately while telling a story about cooking. Then she was grossed out and I'm not sure I even finished my story. She's one of my only friends here in the NL that likes to cook/bake/entertain like I do. Today I went so far as to wine and dine her with a cheese quesadilla, canned croissants and a packet of apple cider. What? I wasn't feeling it today. You got fed though, didn't you K?
-So as usual, when all the gossip was out and the last dirty joke was told we got into our serious talk. Isn't it funny how you realize things about yourself once you say them out loud? Like, maybe you always knew that you were a certain way, but until you openly admitted it it never became a reality? Well, that happens to me all the time. Maybe I should just walk around talking to myself. Hell, what am I even blogging for- I should be sitting in the corner somewhere just telling myself all of this stuff. Hehe. So my realization today was that I put forth so much energy, too much energy, into thinking about what everyone else is thinking about. Mostly about me. "What are other people thinking about me?" I think the things that bother me about myself don't really actually bother me that much. But I think maybe they might bother someone else. So then I let it become my problem. It's also possible that no one else has ever been bothered by that thing, I just think they might, so I get bothered about it myself. So I create the whole problem in my head....and then act it out. I may have lost you at cheese quesadilla. What I'm getting at is, I really shouldn't give a damn and I know I shouldn't but I do. So maybe I should try to work on that. I know that I am critical of other people at times, so I guess I just always expect other people to be critical of me all the time- and most of the time I have a difficult time being comfortable in my own skin. I'm pretty sure all of this started when I moved here to the NL. I had always been a fairly confident person. Very outgoing. Never shy, never met a stranger. Over here I'm like my own evil twin. Insecure, shy, stand-offish, intimidated. I also find that I'm afraid to finish things because of failure in the end. That's a big thing to admit, but I'm keepin' it real here in blog-land. So as I acknowledge these things, I throw them into the prayer bucket and give them up to someone bigger than me that can help me deal with them. :)
-On a more positive note, I did get some special treatment this afternoon. Remember my third-world girlfriend K? She is a Reiki practitioner. I'd actually never heard of Reiki until I met her and then I read up on it a bit. Here's the Wikipedia link if you've never heard of it: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reiki
Once I found out that it's not religion-based and really just a spiritual practice, I was more open to it. Jr., here, is still a breech baby at 31 weeks and hasn't changed positions since at least 19 weeks gestation so I'm wondering if he'll ever flip, or if he's just cozy and content with his head wedged in my ribs. While googling ways to turn a breech baby, I came across an article that promoted the use of energy and reflexology. Well, Reiki = use of energy. So I wrote K and asked her what she thought and if she'd be willing to do a session with me. So we did today. No funny business- incense or anything, haha. I just layed down on my back on the couch and she used her hands to hover over or touch certain points on my body (eyes/temple area, jawline, ribs, belly, knee caps (my favorite) and the soles of my feet.) She asked me afterward what I felt, and I just told her I liked the knee cap part- really, it was nice. Anyway, each position got held for about 5 minutes before moving to the next. Had she gone any longer I probably could've taken a nap- which she says is normal. She explained to me that she wasn't going to use the energy to try and get Jr. to move because he will move when he is good and ready, but maybe there is an underlying issue (maybe even with me) preventing him from the great migration. So the energy knows where it needs to go without being directed. And sometimes energy can be directed towards something we want, but might not necessarily be the best thing for us or the best answer. Kind of like prayer, I think. Ya know the country song about how some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers? We don't always get what we want, but instead we get what's best for us. So, energy, what ya got?
-So as usual, when all the gossip was out and the last dirty joke was told we got into our serious talk. Isn't it funny how you realize things about yourself once you say them out loud? Like, maybe you always knew that you were a certain way, but until you openly admitted it it never became a reality? Well, that happens to me all the time. Maybe I should just walk around talking to myself. Hell, what am I even blogging for- I should be sitting in the corner somewhere just telling myself all of this stuff. Hehe. So my realization today was that I put forth so much energy, too much energy, into thinking about what everyone else is thinking about. Mostly about me. "What are other people thinking about me?" I think the things that bother me about myself don't really actually bother me that much. But I think maybe they might bother someone else. So then I let it become my problem. It's also possible that no one else has ever been bothered by that thing, I just think they might, so I get bothered about it myself. So I create the whole problem in my head....and then act it out. I may have lost you at cheese quesadilla. What I'm getting at is, I really shouldn't give a damn and I know I shouldn't but I do. So maybe I should try to work on that. I know that I am critical of other people at times, so I guess I just always expect other people to be critical of me all the time- and most of the time I have a difficult time being comfortable in my own skin. I'm pretty sure all of this started when I moved here to the NL. I had always been a fairly confident person. Very outgoing. Never shy, never met a stranger. Over here I'm like my own evil twin. Insecure, shy, stand-offish, intimidated. I also find that I'm afraid to finish things because of failure in the end. That's a big thing to admit, but I'm keepin' it real here in blog-land. So as I acknowledge these things, I throw them into the prayer bucket and give them up to someone bigger than me that can help me deal with them. :)
-On a more positive note, I did get some special treatment this afternoon. Remember my third-world girlfriend K? She is a Reiki practitioner. I'd actually never heard of Reiki until I met her and then I read up on it a bit. Here's the Wikipedia link if you've never heard of it: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reiki
Once I found out that it's not religion-based and really just a spiritual practice, I was more open to it. Jr., here, is still a breech baby at 31 weeks and hasn't changed positions since at least 19 weeks gestation so I'm wondering if he'll ever flip, or if he's just cozy and content with his head wedged in my ribs. While googling ways to turn a breech baby, I came across an article that promoted the use of energy and reflexology. Well, Reiki = use of energy. So I wrote K and asked her what she thought and if she'd be willing to do a session with me. So we did today. No funny business- incense or anything, haha. I just layed down on my back on the couch and she used her hands to hover over or touch certain points on my body (eyes/temple area, jawline, ribs, belly, knee caps (my favorite) and the soles of my feet.) She asked me afterward what I felt, and I just told her I liked the knee cap part- really, it was nice. Anyway, each position got held for about 5 minutes before moving to the next. Had she gone any longer I probably could've taken a nap- which she says is normal. She explained to me that she wasn't going to use the energy to try and get Jr. to move because he will move when he is good and ready, but maybe there is an underlying issue (maybe even with me) preventing him from the great migration. So the energy knows where it needs to go without being directed. And sometimes energy can be directed towards something we want, but might not necessarily be the best thing for us or the best answer. Kind of like prayer, I think. Ya know the country song about how some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers? We don't always get what we want, but instead we get what's best for us. So, energy, what ya got?
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Broken jello pelvis. I know, right?!?!
-If I had known I was to be doing half-naked pilates at my physical therapy appointment this morning, I might have taken a few extra precautions....like shaving all the way up my thighs instead of stopping at the knees. How was I supposed to know? I even put extra thought into choosing my best sweatpants to wear so I wouldn't have to do lunges in jeans. Ok, obviously this was my first physical therapy appointment. Ever.
>I'm about 8 months pregnant. So it's not too strange (I hope..) that I haven't shaved my legs in two weeks. Maybe three. Who's counting? But by the sweet grace of God I had the urge to do so this morning- and thankfully so. And for the first time in a long time it actually paid off. While singing Deanna Carter's, "Did I shave my legs for this," I can confidently say to myself, "Yes, yes I did."
>Another thing. My underwear. Maybe I'm the only one who fusses over such things, but let me explain. At my very first midwife appointment I wore a dress. I was adamant about wearing that dress (it was finally nice enough to wear a summer dress in the NL) even knowing I would have to pull it up to my chin during my belly exam. It's all good as long as you have the right britches on. See, I couldn't wear granny panties, for obvious reasons- you don't wanna be remembered by your midwife as "the frumpy lady". I couldn't wear a thong and be remembered as "the thong lady." Finding the right pair of panties took me about 20 minutes that morning. Cute boy shorts....full coverage (in the front at least), not frumpy, non-sheer material, double-checked for holes...right on. Had I known the first words out of this lady's mouth this morning would have been, "Ok, go ahead and remove your pants and lay on the table," (but in Dutch, of course) I would've landed right back in the "picky panty party." Once again, big man upstairs had my back(side) and I chose the red polka-dot boy shorts. CUTE! It's the little things, folks... :)
>So she had me lay in all kinds of funky positions while she poked me and asked "Does this hurt?" Well, yeah lady, your bony fingers pushed into my back actually does cause a bit of discomfort now that you mention it. Then she had me, in my cute polka-dotted britches, walk around the room several times so she could watch my feet, legs and hips as I walked. Closest to a catwalk I'll ever come, I guess. Ha!
>So anyway, today was pretty much my assessment day and then I go back in two weeks or so for some of the real stuff. Don't worry, I'm already planning out my underwear situation for that appointment. Oh hey, did I mention this lady is a pelvic specialist? I guess this means mine is still there, otherwise she might have noticed. My pelvis...
......I'm totally sitting here at the dining room table (excuse me, my FABULOUS antique French farm table from the year 1880...yes, that was my moment) bouncing on a stability ball. I've been doing this for almost 2 weeks now. Supposedly a great (one of the best) workouts you can do for your back/stomach muscles. Sit/bounce/wiggle on a stability ball with a straight back for at least 30 minutes. And it's totally helped with the pelvic pain. Like, tremendously!
-I had a tea date today with a nice friend, M, who is also the owner of the B&B down the street where my mom stayed for our wedding. She'll also be staying there when she comes for Junior's birth. I learned that I'm not the only one who has a difficult time telling people how I really feel. What's the deal with that anyway? I find myself having problems with people and instead of getting it out there in the open, I avoid confrontation at all expenses and keep my mouth shut. Then I start to resent those people. That's not fair. To me or them, I guess. So anyway, I know this about myself and it's something I really want to improve on. Just let them heifers have it! Haha, kidding. In all seriousness though- I'm about to be a mom. How can I stand up for my family if I can't even stand up for myself. It's easy to talk smack. Gotta grow some.
>Speaking of crap that really annoys me, I have GOT to delete myself from that retarded Zulily site. Seriously? I don't even remember my log in info and they send me an e-mail everyday! I'm sitting here trying to blog about important stuff and my phone is dinging non-stop. Well, my mother is also stalking me on facebook with Madea videos.
*I want to be just like Madea when I grow up* That fool is straight crazy! And don't nobody, NO. BODY., be messin' with her!
-Somehow the day has slipped away from me between my p.t. appointment, a nap, a tea date and blogging. I have a lunch date tomorrow here at my house, and to put it nicely....well, I just can't. My house is to' up from the flo' up. And I need to bake cookies. Yes, I NEED to. And instead of cleaning and baking and going to the grocery store like I NEED to, I just wanna sit in the floor like a big pregnant hippie and work on my rag rug and miss my husband. Responsibilities......
>I'm about 8 months pregnant. So it's not too strange (I hope..) that I haven't shaved my legs in two weeks. Maybe three. Who's counting? But by the sweet grace of God I had the urge to do so this morning- and thankfully so. And for the first time in a long time it actually paid off. While singing Deanna Carter's, "Did I shave my legs for this," I can confidently say to myself, "Yes, yes I did."
>Another thing. My underwear. Maybe I'm the only one who fusses over such things, but let me explain. At my very first midwife appointment I wore a dress. I was adamant about wearing that dress (it was finally nice enough to wear a summer dress in the NL) even knowing I would have to pull it up to my chin during my belly exam. It's all good as long as you have the right britches on. See, I couldn't wear granny panties, for obvious reasons- you don't wanna be remembered by your midwife as "the frumpy lady". I couldn't wear a thong and be remembered as "the thong lady." Finding the right pair of panties took me about 20 minutes that morning. Cute boy shorts....full coverage (in the front at least), not frumpy, non-sheer material, double-checked for holes...right on. Had I known the first words out of this lady's mouth this morning would have been, "Ok, go ahead and remove your pants and lay on the table," (but in Dutch, of course) I would've landed right back in the "picky panty party." Once again, big man upstairs had my back(side) and I chose the red polka-dot boy shorts. CUTE! It's the little things, folks... :)
>So she had me lay in all kinds of funky positions while she poked me and asked "Does this hurt?" Well, yeah lady, your bony fingers pushed into my back actually does cause a bit of discomfort now that you mention it. Then she had me, in my cute polka-dotted britches, walk around the room several times so she could watch my feet, legs and hips as I walked. Closest to a catwalk I'll ever come, I guess. Ha!
>So anyway, today was pretty much my assessment day and then I go back in two weeks or so for some of the real stuff. Don't worry, I'm already planning out my underwear situation for that appointment. Oh hey, did I mention this lady is a pelvic specialist? I guess this means mine is still there, otherwise she might have noticed. My pelvis...
......I'm totally sitting here at the dining room table (excuse me, my FABULOUS antique French farm table from the year 1880...yes, that was my moment) bouncing on a stability ball. I've been doing this for almost 2 weeks now. Supposedly a great (one of the best) workouts you can do for your back/stomach muscles. Sit/bounce/wiggle on a stability ball with a straight back for at least 30 minutes. And it's totally helped with the pelvic pain. Like, tremendously!
-I had a tea date today with a nice friend, M, who is also the owner of the B&B down the street where my mom stayed for our wedding. She'll also be staying there when she comes for Junior's birth. I learned that I'm not the only one who has a difficult time telling people how I really feel. What's the deal with that anyway? I find myself having problems with people and instead of getting it out there in the open, I avoid confrontation at all expenses and keep my mouth shut. Then I start to resent those people. That's not fair. To me or them, I guess. So anyway, I know this about myself and it's something I really want to improve on. Just let them heifers have it! Haha, kidding. In all seriousness though- I'm about to be a mom. How can I stand up for my family if I can't even stand up for myself. It's easy to talk smack. Gotta grow some.
>Speaking of crap that really annoys me, I have GOT to delete myself from that retarded Zulily site. Seriously? I don't even remember my log in info and they send me an e-mail everyday! I'm sitting here trying to blog about important stuff and my phone is dinging non-stop. Well, my mother is also stalking me on facebook with Madea videos.
*I want to be just like Madea when I grow up* That fool is straight crazy! And don't nobody, NO. BODY., be messin' with her!
-Somehow the day has slipped away from me between my p.t. appointment, a nap, a tea date and blogging. I have a lunch date tomorrow here at my house, and to put it nicely....well, I just can't. My house is to' up from the flo' up. And I need to bake cookies. Yes, I NEED to. And instead of cleaning and baking and going to the grocery store like I NEED to, I just wanna sit in the floor like a big pregnant hippie and work on my rag rug and miss my husband. Responsibilities......
Monday, November 21, 2011
That took too long.
-Ok, so far I suck at blogging. I really need to discipline myself into making it a regular habit...amongst others such as flossing daily, turning off lights in empty rooms and rinsing off dishes before stacking them in the dishwasher. Just keepin' it real.
-Today is Day 2 of being home alone since Reesh left for Germany. Sometimes his job really cramps my lifestyle. But then I remember I am a stay-at-home mom to a dog and wouldn't have a lifestyle if it weren't for his job. Shit.
>So anyway. Let's chalk it up to pregnancy hormones if you will- I was SUCH a whiny baby about him having to leave this time. I mean, as a military wife, it pretty much goes without saying that you might be spending a good amount of time playing bachelorette (and, no...I don't mean the slutty military wife kind who takes that a bit too literal) waiting impatiently for him to come home. But does it ever get easier? I was raised in a military home. My dad was gone a lot. I always remember my mom saying she thought it would get easier, but instead it got more difficult with each "goodbye."
>Ok, he's only gone for two weeks. Not the end of the world, I know. But I've teared up less when he's gone to Afghanistan. What's the deal? I don't know, PREGNANT & EMOTIONAL, why don't you tell me?
>Before I'm done bitching, let me ice this cake. Fifth year in a row sans a Thanksgiving dinner. Second year sitting home all alone because Mr. Apache pilot is in Germany. Both thumbs down!
-So what am I doing with myself for two weeks? Every time Reesh leaves I always get super motivated to do crazy stuff. Like, crack-head clean the pantry, save some money and lose 10 pounds. I usually spend too much money at the grocery store, cram it all in the pantry and eat it all before he gets home- thus definitely not losing 10 pounds.
>Well, the night before he left we royally jacked up our beautiful white leather couch- an obvious pre-"we want kids"-purchase. My mom bought me, in every color, these warm cozy socks with anti-slip rubber dots on the bottom. Ya know, the ones that come off in the first use...you walk around your house picking up rubber dots asking yourself, "WTH is this??" Yep. Those. Anyway, I happened to be wearing the black ones the other night, all warm and snug on the couch. Then, THEN, I notice little black polka dots all over our WHITE couch. It happens. White couch = magnet for any and everything. But it's all good, it's leather. A bit of spit on your index finger, a swirly motion and voila!- it comes right up. Except this time I'm left with spit on my finger and a Dalmatian couch. Alright, if the spit finger doesn't work, I just whip up a bit of baking soda paste, apply, let sit, and wipe off. Does the trick every time. No such luck this time, no sir. In one (very) dramatic attempt to salvage our couch, we began adding a little bit of everything to the spots to get them up. Shout it out, bleach (don't judge me), vinegar, white laundry soap, some powder stuff I have for removing stains, non-acetone nail polish remover. Ok, that was HIS idea. He found it on Google. "I will have nothing to do with that," said I. So now there's two spots (about corn kernel size'ish) where the top layer of leather....is no more. ON TOP of the polka dots. Lovely. In my desperate attempt to rid our perfect couch from the spots, I grabbed an old toothbrush and began scrubbing away. What I discovered was the "graying" that slowly happened to our couch wasn't denim stains, or general usage- it was scum (yuck) in the grooves of the textured leather. Who knew? So back to my original question of how I will be spending my next two weeks- that's right...scrubbing a large corner couch with a *blankety-blank-blank* toothbrush. See, hunny, I told you that me not having a job would pay off one day. We've got the cleanest couch on the block. Because your pregnant wife spent 6 days scrubbing it with a toothbrush. She rocks, doesn't she? :)
>Other than that b.s., I'll be crafting (uh oh, you guys don't know nothin' 'bout no rag rugs yet!), entertaining a few girlfriends, cleaning, organising Jr.'s nursery, and whatever else I can find to keep myself from..... finding more cupcake recipes on Pinterest.
-In pregnancy news: I have an appointment bright and early tomorrow morning with a physical therapist for my jello pelvis. I told Richard the other day, upon listening to some dumb joke, that if I had a pelvis I would "get off this couch and smack you." Haha. Seriously, folks, this is no joke. For the past month every bone in my below-the-belt region has felt like it's fallen victim to a Jackie Chan karate kick. No. More like Chuck Norris. Yeah. That's how it feels. So, tomorrow I will see a pelvic specialist and here's to hoping she can provide me with some much-needed relief.
>OH! Tomorrow I will also be raising the bar to 31 weeks. Can I get a woot woot?
-Yo, that's it for today. I'm outie!
-Today is Day 2 of being home alone since Reesh left for Germany. Sometimes his job really cramps my lifestyle. But then I remember I am a stay-at-home mom to a dog and wouldn't have a lifestyle if it weren't for his job. Shit.
>So anyway. Let's chalk it up to pregnancy hormones if you will- I was SUCH a whiny baby about him having to leave this time. I mean, as a military wife, it pretty much goes without saying that you might be spending a good amount of time playing bachelorette (and, no...I don't mean the slutty military wife kind who takes that a bit too literal) waiting impatiently for him to come home. But does it ever get easier? I was raised in a military home. My dad was gone a lot. I always remember my mom saying she thought it would get easier, but instead it got more difficult with each "goodbye."
>Ok, he's only gone for two weeks. Not the end of the world, I know. But I've teared up less when he's gone to Afghanistan. What's the deal? I don't know, PREGNANT & EMOTIONAL, why don't you tell me?
>Before I'm done bitching, let me ice this cake. Fifth year in a row sans a Thanksgiving dinner. Second year sitting home all alone because Mr. Apache pilot is in Germany. Both thumbs down!
-So what am I doing with myself for two weeks? Every time Reesh leaves I always get super motivated to do crazy stuff. Like, crack-head clean the pantry, save some money and lose 10 pounds. I usually spend too much money at the grocery store, cram it all in the pantry and eat it all before he gets home- thus definitely not losing 10 pounds.
>Well, the night before he left we royally jacked up our beautiful white leather couch- an obvious pre-"we want kids"-purchase. My mom bought me, in every color, these warm cozy socks with anti-slip rubber dots on the bottom. Ya know, the ones that come off in the first use...you walk around your house picking up rubber dots asking yourself, "WTH is this??" Yep. Those. Anyway, I happened to be wearing the black ones the other night, all warm and snug on the couch. Then, THEN, I notice little black polka dots all over our WHITE couch. It happens. White couch = magnet for any and everything. But it's all good, it's leather. A bit of spit on your index finger, a swirly motion and voila!- it comes right up. Except this time I'm left with spit on my finger and a Dalmatian couch. Alright, if the spit finger doesn't work, I just whip up a bit of baking soda paste, apply, let sit, and wipe off. Does the trick every time. No such luck this time, no sir. In one (very) dramatic attempt to salvage our couch, we began adding a little bit of everything to the spots to get them up. Shout it out, bleach (don't judge me), vinegar, white laundry soap, some powder stuff I have for removing stains, non-acetone nail polish remover. Ok, that was HIS idea. He found it on Google. "I will have nothing to do with that," said I. So now there's two spots (about corn kernel size'ish) where the top layer of leather....is no more. ON TOP of the polka dots. Lovely. In my desperate attempt to rid our perfect couch from the spots, I grabbed an old toothbrush and began scrubbing away. What I discovered was the "graying" that slowly happened to our couch wasn't denim stains, or general usage- it was scum (yuck) in the grooves of the textured leather. Who knew? So back to my original question of how I will be spending my next two weeks- that's right...scrubbing a large corner couch with a *blankety-blank-blank* toothbrush. See, hunny, I told you that me not having a job would pay off one day. We've got the cleanest couch on the block. Because your pregnant wife spent 6 days scrubbing it with a toothbrush. She rocks, doesn't she? :)
>Other than that b.s., I'll be crafting (uh oh, you guys don't know nothin' 'bout no rag rugs yet!), entertaining a few girlfriends, cleaning, organising Jr.'s nursery, and whatever else I can find to keep myself from..... finding more cupcake recipes on Pinterest.
-In pregnancy news: I have an appointment bright and early tomorrow morning with a physical therapist for my jello pelvis. I told Richard the other day, upon listening to some dumb joke, that if I had a pelvis I would "get off this couch and smack you." Haha. Seriously, folks, this is no joke. For the past month every bone in my below-the-belt region has felt like it's fallen victim to a Jackie Chan karate kick. No. More like Chuck Norris. Yeah. That's how it feels. So, tomorrow I will see a pelvic specialist and here's to hoping she can provide me with some much-needed relief.
>OH! Tomorrow I will also be raising the bar to 31 weeks. Can I get a woot woot?
-Yo, that's it for today. I'm outie!
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Hello, blog-world!
Alright, here goes.
After writing a few blogs/notes on facebook, I've decided to give the real world of blogging a chance. I am no fashionable writer, nor will I scour the pages of a thesaurus trying to imitate one. I simply want to blog for blogging's sake. I hope to keep it real and let this be a venture in which I can learn from myself. I'm not here to offend, criticize, lecture or rack up dozens of "followers"-I just wanna put my thoughts and experiences out there in cyber land.
A bit about myself. I'm a twenty-something living abroad in The Netherlands with my husband, who we'll call Reesh, and our questionably ugly Yorkie, Remy. We're expecting our first little angel in January, who we call Junior. Life couldn't be sweeter! I'm originally from Texas, but decided to make the move across the big pond after meeting this super charming Dutch guy. We tied the knot last June (yay for June brides!) andalmost immediately began "trying." That's a whole other blog in itself to come.
I hope in this blogging experience to learn something from/about myself and hopefully reach out to someone else. Again, I'm totally amateur so bare with me.
Happy Blogging!
After writing a few blogs/notes on facebook, I've decided to give the real world of blogging a chance. I am no fashionable writer, nor will I scour the pages of a thesaurus trying to imitate one. I simply want to blog for blogging's sake. I hope to keep it real and let this be a venture in which I can learn from myself. I'm not here to offend, criticize, lecture or rack up dozens of "followers"-I just wanna put my thoughts and experiences out there in cyber land.
A bit about myself. I'm a twenty-something living abroad in The Netherlands with my husband, who we'll call Reesh, and our questionably ugly Yorkie, Remy. We're expecting our first little angel in January, who we call Junior. Life couldn't be sweeter! I'm originally from Texas, but decided to make the move across the big pond after meeting this super charming Dutch guy. We tied the knot last June (yay for June brides!) and
I hope in this blogging experience to learn something from/about myself and hopefully reach out to someone else. Again, I'm totally amateur so bare with me.
Happy Blogging!
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