The Family Who Withdraws Together Stays Together

Since returning from Iraq, James has been on the nicotine patch, and I must admit, it’s going better than I expected. Apparently the dentist over there informed him that he had the gums of a 70 year old, and he decided to quit. What?? That’s what I’VE been saying for six years!!! Anyway. He’s not the one I’m worrying about. Since we moved out of my in-laws home, the kids have been going through MAJOR Nana and Papa withdrawal.

“But when I cry Nana gives me what I want!!”
“You just wanted to come home from Iraq to spank me!!”
“But…. Papa ALWAYS lets me have candy before dinner!!”
“Can I call Nana please?”
“I don’t want to live here!! I want to live with Nana!!”
“It’s too early to go to bed! Nana ALWAYS lets me stay up and watch SpongeBob!!”
“But Papa ALWAYS makes me ravioli if I don’t like dinner!!”
“What can we do? I’m sooooo BORED!!”

I tell you. It’s a circus around here. I’m still deciding what I want to withdraw from in order to join in on the fun.

School Fool

The kids started school a couple of weeks ago. Lily is now in 2nd grade, Caleb in kindergarten. They grow up so fast! When I first started this blog, Lily was in Pre-K!

I LOVE to buy school supplies. I like the paper, pencils, crayons, rulers, etc. But what I do NOT like is the INSANE amount of supplies they want. Case in point: kindergarten students needed 21 brad folders. 21!!! Are you MAD?!! And 2nd grade needed 15!! They also requested 42 pencils PER STUDENT!! With an average of 15 kids in a 2nd grade class, that comes out to 630 pencils!! Are they going to build a shed or something? Good grief!!!

James also needed school supplies, less in amount but more expensive altogether. For instance:

Gun: $554
Ammo: $650 (estimate)
Uniforms: $58
Handcuffs: $30
Two 3 inch binders, dividers, highlighters and paper: $27 (stinking binders are $10.90 a piece!!)

Luckily my step-father is a PO and we’re borrowing his duty belt and holster. The Lord provides!!

On an end note, the kids are getting their bunk beds today. Yay.

Workout Fallout

First, a weight update:

Weigh-In: 210.
Lost: 20.
To Go: 30.
New motivation: husband. The former Marine, I might add.

So yes, we have been getting up at 4:45 IN THE MORNING to lift weights, do some abdominal work and cardio routines. I. AM. DYING. Literally. Between the early wake ups and horrific gas, I am running low these days. Oh, the gas. I guess I should explain.

Every morning for breakfast James has a protein shake made of chocolate flavored chalk protein, soy milk, a banana and ice. Now I don’t know if it’s the protein or what, but fella has some hella odor for the remainder of the day. Every day. It’s so bad our apartment smells like fart when we return from errands. Even the kids are gagging, and I think my sheets are turning green. As for me, I’m staying on my low carb, low fat diet even though I have the occasional (daily) splurge. You can’t pay me enough to drink that protein crap. It tastes like chalk and sticks to your teeth. Ugh.

Going to Jail

If you are a faithful reader of this blog, you probably already know that I am frugal, sometimes obsessively, much to my husband’s chagrin.

“But… we’ve always had cable…”
“No we haven’t. Not a year ago in Ennis, and you did fine.”
“But… I’ve been in Iraq for a year…”
“And… you have two kids to play with.”

So after four days of being puppy-dog eyed 24 hours a day, I gave in and ordered cable. I also gave in and agreed that he needed a new cell phone. It is looking a little Iraq-ified nowadays. So we surfed Ebay and found one with functionality but not too many bells and whistles. Upon arrival of the phone, we called Sprint to activate it and found out that the phone was still under someone else’s plan. Not the seller’s though. Someone he got it from. Sounds kinda fishy to me. So we began packing it all back up to return it to the seller.

“What are you doing?”
“Trying to get the battery door off.”
“I just thought, uh, if it’s stolen, I should wipe off my fingerprints or something.”
“Right. You’ve been watching way too much CSI. Give me the phone.”

--shoves it into envelope and seals it before he could erase any evidence

Moving and Grooving 2

SO… I know I haven’t blogged in a while. But I have a REALLY GOOD, LEGITIMATE reason… JAMES IS HOME!!!!! WOO HOO!!! And well, I’ve been busy. You know how I roll.

Upon arrival (or shortly thereafter…or the next day… whatever) James informed me that he still wanted to be a police officer, and since I have been praying for God to guide James, as the leader of our family, in the direction that we should go, I agreed. While he was gone I, being the totally awesome wife that I am (his words, not mine), filled out his applications for the school and GI Bill, requested and copied all paperwork, and corresponded with the police academy leader dude. He starts on the 28th. We have also passed the time by moving into the city to be closer to said academy. I think the kids are going through Nana and Papa withdrawal. More on that later.

Now I knew that James becoming a police officer would entail spending a significant amount of money on gear and other toys, mindless worrying on his part, and teeth clenching on mine. But seriously, it hasn’t been too bad. I mean, I brought a book with me when he insisted he had to be an hour early to his psychologist appointment (to sign off that he’s sane and all) and waited patiently for him to explain his reasoning for expensive extras, one of which was a trigger lock. Oh yes, he bought a gun. A Glock 22 or 40 or something. I dunno, it’s small and black.

“Babe I don’t like the lock that came with my gun.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because you have to loop it through the loading mechanism and trigger part and by doing that it suppresses this spring mechanism and I don’t want the spring to wear down from constant suppression.”


“Um, maybe that’s how it keeps it from, you know, accidentally firing or something.”

“I still don’t like it.”

So he went and bought a trigger lock, the kind that runs through the trigger part and…. locks. But was it safe enough? NO.

“I still think it could come off.”

“Are you serious?”

“Maybe I should keep it in the safe.”


“But what if someone jimmies the safe?”

“Babe, you don’t even have BULLETS for it yet.”

Exactly. Story of my marriage. Running from the tornado on a clear day.