Beaches

I came to realize on our vacation that I really like the coast. James had a harder time getting me out of the water than the kids (Please can I do just one more wave? Please?). It was so peaceful and pretty watching the waves break and seeing all the beach scallops dig themselves into the sand. The only thing I didn't like was the salt. I couldn't get it off my lips. I think I still taste it. Plus, it gets everywhere!
Do you know how much a pair of water shoes costs in one of those souvenir shops? $11 freaking 50. Do you know how long it takes for a four and six year old to pick out which shell they want to buy? One freaking hour. Do you also know how many steps it takes to reach the entrance to said shop because they are by the coast and are built on stilts? Freaking 30. Ugh.
As a result of our trip I REALLY want to live in Hawaii. Awesome beaches, mild climate, hardly ever gets above 90, lots of sea life. But I don't know yet, we'll have to wait and see.

Vacationing With The B's

I figure it's time to blog about our pseudo-vacation. We all went down to Corpus Christi for a few days before we dropped James off for training. That's right; while everyone was worried about the hurricane, we were the ones saying "Screw it. It's freaking 105 degrees here and I want to swim in the OCEAN." We had a lot of fun, until we had to tell James goodbye. More on that later.
We arrive in CC at around 1 a.m. and the first thing I notice is that it is HUMID. Freaking humid. And our motel is kind of... in the ghetto? Is that the nice way to put it? It wasn't bad, I mean it had running water and all, but it kind of had this boiled egg/burned hamburger smell to it. But hey, it had clean beds and air conditioning for only $60 a night.
The next day we headed down to the beach, where gently rolling waves beckoned. Let me tell you, those gentle waves are only gentle until you wade out to the break line. Then they'll freaking take you (and your tankini bottoms) under. That's right. I can't seem to inhabit a body of water without losing part of my clothing. I was wearing my cute maternity tankini and I love it but the thing is, my bottom half is slightly smaller than my top. That means the top of my bathing suits fit but the bottoms will slip right off if I have my back to a gigantic wave that sweeps me off my feet.
After a few hours at the beach (and tracking down Lily who had wandered off), we headed inland to eat and I can honestly tell you after this trip, I never want to see another fast food restaurant again! We had take out every meal for three days!! After a recouperative night's rest we headed to the farewell ceremony at the armory. Only men would plan a ceremony in a crowded warehouse at noon in Texas during the summer. Thankfully it was a short one, and we quickly booked to the beach again. We collected beach scallops and sea doodle bugs (?), body surfed some waves and guess what? Ate at a freaking restaurant.
Sunday morning we all got up at the crack of dawn to drop James off at the armory. I call this D-Day because it was the last day we got to see him before he left for training and deployment. Now I can take the kids crying, the in-laws crying, the president crying, but for some reason when James starts to cry I get all cracked up too. So we all sat there crying in the parking lot (well, the kids didn't; I think they were still half asleep) and he had to go inside and all that. Then we headed home.
Now we're back and I'm in my usual my-husband-just-left-me-with-the-children-for-a-year funk and Caleb has regressed in his potty training and I'm THIS CLOSE to going insane. On the plus side, the kids will be starting school soon and I'm looking into some college courses to keep me busy.
Oh, and my brother and his family are leaving for freaking Italy in two weeks. Yay.

Rain, Rain, Go Away

James' 20 days of leave are coming to an end. On Thursday we will all travel to Corpus Christi to sit through a boring four hour ceremony instead of spending that time with our soldier. And I have to take my two kids. Grrr.
We had made plans to take the kids to the beach and take a lot of good scrap booking photos and build sandcastles and stuff, but then stinking Dolly showed up. I even found the PERFECT bathing suit for this trip, even though it is from the maternity section... who cares, right? At least in the maternity section I'm only a L, instead of the customary XXL. Woo hoo! Anyway, Dolly is supposed to bring 15 inches of rain and I'm hoping that James' unit will just tell him to wait it out and come next week. I can hope, right?
This 20 days with James has been very good. Lots of family time and eating out. When James is on active duty we tend to make more money, and when we make more money we tend to spend more money, and James decided he needed a knife.
Not just any knife.
An $85, stainless steel, grip handle, cuts through sheet metal, has a "skull crushing handle" and has a leg strap knife, because "I met this guy who had just come back from Iraq and he had one and he said it was good to have one on you just in case, you know, you get into hand-to-hand combat and have to use it, or say an IED hits your vehicle and you have to bust out a window and...."
"Okay, that's enough."
So he starts looking online for a knife. I mean staying up into the wee hours of the morning looking, not just Ebay and buy. For three days he looked, and finally settled on this particular one, I can't even remember the name of it.
"Babe look, it has blah blah blah, and blah blah, oh and look! A blah BLAH blah!!"
"That's GREAT dear."
"Can I get it? Please please please?"
So I agreed that he needed a knife and let him buy it. I mostly wanted to shut him up. Then it came to shipping.
"Hey babe, I called the company and they're based in Tennessee and said it would take four days to ship here. That means it would get here next Tuesday."
"Yup."
"Well, we're leaving on Thursday and what if it doesn't get here by then? I mean what if we leave and RIGHT THEN they deliver it and it has to sit on the porch for three days before you get back?"
"Oh, horror!"
"Seriously!"
"Seriously, you shouldn't have taken three days to decide on what knife you wanted. It will be fine."
--ponder, ponder--
"Okay."
"Thank you."
"What about insurance?"
"Oh good grief!"
"But what if it like, falls and breaks and gets all smashed?"
"It's a freaking stainless steel KNIFE for crying out loud!! It won't get broken!"
"What if it gets... LOST?!"
--shaking my head--
"Then we call the company and ask them to send a new one."
"Or get our money back from UPS."
"Whatever. Do what you want to do."
So he orders his knife and the world starts revolving again. Later on we're lying in bed, I'm trying to go to sleep, and James pops off
"I should have gotten that insurance."
"Go sleep on the couch."
The next four days were the LONGEST four days OF MY LIFE.
Today on our way home from swimming, James turns the corner and lo and behold, there's the UPS truck sitting in front of our house.
"Oh no! Wait WAIT!!!"
He yells and floors it, not even slowing down going over the speed bump, and you can just see the UPS guy's eyes get wider as James flies towards him. By the time we get to the driveway the UPS guy has torpedoed himself inside his truck and starts to pull away and James is yelling, inside the car, "Thank you! Thanks!" and waving frantically.
The knife was fine. I don't think the kids were, though.

Who Wears Short Shorts?

On the way to visit my Dad yesterday Caleb quipps from the back seat "I shaved."

Stunned but prepared, I asked "Really? Where?"

"In the bathroom."

"Yeah, but where?"

"In the BATHROOM!"

"But where on your BODY?"

"My arm."

"Let me see."

So I check it out and indeed his arm is very smooth compared to the other.

"I shaved ALL OF IT off."

"I can see that."

"And I didn't even use SHAVING CREAM."

"Where did you get the razor?"

"From the BATHROOM!!"

Ugh.

Note to self: Hide razors in a higher place.

Granny's Stuff

I love my Granny, but she just has too much stuff.

In the past five years our family has moved her three times, and every time I have been absolutely astonished at the amount of possessions she has. This most recent move my sister-in-law and I packed most of her belongings. Here's just a partial list of some items that we found:

• Five pillows BESIDES the four on her bed, saved because "They're so comfortable and we got them for our 30th wedding anniversary and, well, I just need them." They'd been in a closet for two years.
• Seven complete sets of full size sheets saved "Just in case."
• 17 coffee cups
• Three irons
• Six bread pans
• Ten purses to complement the over 150 (seriously) articles of clothing she owns
• Over 20 pairs of shoes
• Food in the refrigerator with expiration dates from 2005

We did manage to get Granny to give up a few things. Well, a few of the multiples. Then the other day, Mimi calls and tells me that Granny bought five coffee cups at a garage sale and also went clothes shopping! Am I the only one who is screaming OVERKILL?

Swimming With The B's 2

I went swimming the other day with my children and reminded myself why I don't do it often. The kids have been driving me crazy because it's been so hot and I make them stay inside during the heat of the day. I finally reached my breaking point and agreed to take them swimming if they would patiently wait for mommy to squeeze her fat self into her wheezing swim suit. They did pretty good, although my idea of patience may be different from others. Glad I have a lock on my door.
We arrive at the pool and of course Lily jumps in and paddles off to make friends ("Do you know what happened to me? I got stung by a wasp! And my eye swelled up REALLY BIG!!"). Caleb hasn't learned to swim yet so he walked down the steps into the water with me. The He-child I can safely say is a tad less adventurous than Lily when it comes to water. After a few minutes of trying to coax him to at least try swimming, I took him under the arms and tried to pick him up.
The kid went crazy.
I succeeded in picking him up, and he succeeded in grabbing one half of my tankini in his fist and screaming "NOOO!! I DON'T WANT TO MOMMA DON'T TAKE ME OUT THERE PLEASE! PLEASE!" Now the entire shallow area of the pool is staring at us and the only thing I can think to do is to pull Caleb close to me to cover up my almost exposed boob. He gets rigid and starts fighting and pushing me away, and all I want is for him to let go of my bathing suit.
"MOMMA STOP NOOO STOP IT LET ME GO LET ME GO!!"
"Caleb! Let go of my bathing suit and I'll let you go!"
"NOOO!! STOP PLEASE OKAY I'LL SWIM LET ME GO!!"
"Let go of my top first!"
"NOOO!! LET GO LET GO LET GO!!"
So now he's flailing around and pushing me back with both hands now conveniently on my chest. I panic and crouch down into the water to cover myself. Which was a bad idea because now Caleb starts to yell
"HEEELLPP ME!!!!"
and now I have the lifeguard's attention. All three of them. Having decided that he won't let go of his hostage (my boob) unless his demands are met, I turn back to the steps and set him down, which is probably what I should have done in the first place. He stops yelling and lets go, I rearrange my top and I hear Lily say "Yeah. He can't swim yet."
I don't think I was ever really exposed but I didn't have the nerve to ask anyone.

Moving And Groving

So we got moved back to where we left one year ago. We're currently living with my in-laws to both save money and... I guess that's it. Well, also to spend time with them if James decides to go active duty after this tour in Iraq.
My desktop computer is currently on a side table that is exactly two feet tall. FYI, I am 5'6". So here I sit hunched over on one of the kids' teeny chairs tapping out this blog. My butt and thighs are numb.
I started my Tae Bo again. Fourth day straight! Woo hoo!! One pound down, 59 more to go!! I still want a Wii Fit. Maybe if I pout long enough James will but me one. Or I could wear a baggy shirt the next time I go to my cousin's house....
On a lighter note (ha ha), I believe I've mentioned before Caleb's facination with breasts. Particularly big breasts. More specifically Nana's big ones. While he has cut down on groping her and I in public ("Nana. Nana. NANA! *honk* Nana!!"), he still makes offhand comments like "Nana, I sure would like to see one of those..."
My kids are on a bug kick right now. Catching them, examining them, letting them die all alone in the bug catcher.... Today I found a jumping spider held captive in a plastic bubble (the kind you get out of crap vending machines) and mounted onto the wall with poster putty. I caught it just before it suffocated.

Aunt Monkey

I think my nephew has taken to calling me "Monkey" now. Awesome.
He and I were checking out at the store and I heard very plainly "monkey." Now, Zayden usually doesn't just pop off a random word, in fact he is very particular about what he says and when he says it. So I commence acting like an idiot saying, "Did you say monkey? Wow! Say monkey, Zayden! Say monkey again!"
What is it about little kids that have those looks that make you feel so stupid? Zayden has a very good one, and he was wearing it as I enthusiastically tried to get him to say what I KNOW I heard. But he didn't, so I gave up.
Yesterday my bunch and I saw Zayden and his staff at Wal-Mart, and we stopped and talked to them for a minute. Shortly after saying our goodbyes, my SIL called me back over and informed me that he said monkey again. That leads me to only one logical conclusion:
He knows me as Monkey.
I don't know why. My name is Talia and my nickname is Tally, neither of which sound like monkey. Personally, I would rather be called "ook" or "geek," hey even "Bom Bob." Nope. I guess I'm stuck with Monkey.

Type B

I took a test online to see if I had a Type A or a Type B personality. Surprise, surprise:

"You seem to be far from having a Type A personality. Your attitude to life is more of the "smell the roses" kind. You know how and when to relax. The hostile, aggressive and competitive part of you surfaces rarely. You are easy to be around, and people tend to feel relaxed and comfortable in your presence. It's a very healthy attitude towards life. Just make sure you don't miss important opportunities because of being too cool and relaxed. Picking up a challenge and competing a little bit for your place in the sun can add some spice to your life."

I like being relaxed. It makes life more fun! Who do you know that is uptight, stressed, irritable but HAPPY? I'm not so laid back that I'm apathetic; I still have emotions. Well, hormones I should say. For instance, I was excited when James got home two days ago from training. I was ecstatic to get to the hotel. I was happy to hang out with friends. I was dreading the four hour ride home. See? I also have many spices in my life, namely James, Lily and Caleb. I also have a new kitten and two dogs and a blog, and I am actually trying to decrease my place in the sun by losing weight. Now leave me alone so I can calmly watch my children play with matches.

Two Years Down

Holy crap. I've been blogging for two years back on March 12th. I now have roughly 113 raw pages of blog that maybe one day I will publish. Consider yourself lucky that you're reading it for free.
Ha ha ha.

I Want A Hunk Like That!

Ah, it's good to have the Internet back. I was tired of going to the library to pay my bills and stuff. Plus, I can't concentrate in a library to blog. I don't know what it is. All the books or something. Like my words are inferior to theirs... I'll stop.

James is in training for a little while and I've entered wife-of-a-deployed-soldier mode. You know: phone attached to me 24/7, taking control of the finances (oh wait, I already do that...), budgeting money for said soldier, being both mom and dad to the kids, getting extremely frusterated when soldier won't go into detail about what they're doing in training, etc. because he's SO convinced the Taliban are listening in on THIS PARTICULAR CONVERSATION, sex withrawals... blah. I get depressed even thinking about it!

Caleb turned four a few days ago. I am proud to announce that he is 100% fully potty trained!! Yeah!! I haven't had to buy new underwear for a whole week! He's on this Incredible Hulk kick, only he calls it the Vicious Hunk. I love it when he gets mad at me and loudly proclaims that "I'm getting into a vicious hunk, Mom!!" Woo. I'm scared. Bring it on.

Lily has been in a kind of funk lately. I think she's getting bored like I am. We both just sit on the couch and ho-hum to each other. But with it being 100 degrees outside, there's not much to do but swim, and even that gets expensive. We work it out though.

Sunday we hung out with my cousin and her family. There's nothing like playing with a chubby baby to lift your spirits! Oh, and they have a Wii Fit that I am so going to steal. You can measure your BMI and hoola hoop and all sorts of stuff. I've actually lost two more pounds.

I am in a "vicious" cycle. I don't sleep well, so I don't have enough energy during the day to exercise, which keeps me fat and causes me not to sleep well. I did a little research and figured out that I don't sleep well pretty much because of my antidepressants. GREAT. They may also be the cause of my twitching at night. Did you know that your brain is less active while watching t.v. than it is when you're asleep? Do you think that's why I feel more rested after watching t.v. than when I wake up in the morning? Why am I asking a computer?

I think I need to go to bed now..... whatever good that will do me....

I'm Still Here!!!

I've moved, unpacked, reattached, ordered the internet AND will be back soon!!!

I Died Yesterday.

I really think I did. You see, I had an endometrial ablation done. It's where they go in and... hey, I provided a link. Go see for yourself. Sorry if I come across a bit... grumpy. You would be too if you smelled burnt poon every time you took a pee. I had no problem with the procedure and all (although in my stupefied anesthetic funk I faintly recall telling the doc about the kids finding James' vagina...), but what they failed to tell me was that shorty after arriving home I would have cramps akin to delivering my own uterus. I kid you not. I have a fairly high pain tolerance (I was enduring contractions with nary a grunt when I was six cm dilated in labor with Lily) and that shiz SUCKED. I am officially better now. If you're ever bored on a slow weekend, consider one of these. NOT.

Vag Finder 3

Note to self: Hide toys better.
James was deployed to Egypt in 2006 for a year and well, deployments get lonely. So I did what any loving wife would do and mailed him a suitable substitute, which he brought home when he came back. For some reason, it failed to reach the trash can. In packing the other day I found it and, rather than throw it on top in the trash box, I put it on the top shelf of the closet for a more discreet disposal later. Then I took a nap.
Guess what I woke up to?
Yup. A pink vagina dangling in my face by my six year old who is asking
"MOM!! What is THIS?!"
I grabbed it, chastised them for being in my closet and hustled them downstairs. Let me assure you that NO parenting manual has a chapter on this. Later on I told James about it and we had a good laugh. That evening my darling children come traipsing upstairs right into my closet, and we hear:
"Caleb, where did you put it?"
"I dunno."
--rummage, rummage--
"I can't find it!"
"Wow! A guitar!"
"Caleb! Help me look!"
"Look at this Sissy! A guitar!"
So they come out and Lily says to me, eyes sparkling:
"Mom, where did you put that thing?"
"Uh, what thing?"
"That PINK THING that was in that bag!"
Caleb: "Yeah that thingy that looks like your BODY."
Oh great.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"MOM. That thing we gave you that sticks to the WALL."
By now James is beet red and I'm laughing so hard I almost pee myself.
"Mom where did you put it? I want to see it!"
Caleb: "Let's stick it to the wall Sissy!"
"Lily, what did you do with it when you found it?"
"I got it, and gave it to Caleb, and then we took it out and looked at it, and we stuck it to the wall and it STUCK! and then I brought it to you. Mom, what WAS that thing?"
James: "Anyone hungry? I'm gonna get a bowl of cereal...."
"Well Lily I just found it in the closet and I threw it away."
"But MOM, we wanted to play with it!"
Caleb: "And stick it to the WALL!!"
Ugh. Pardon me, I need to go put my toy in the safe. I can hear it now:
"Look Mom, we found a SWORD!!"

I Need A Tonic To Go With My Gyn, Please

Don't you just LOVE those yearly below the waist exams? Who came up with this crap? Ugh. I only do it because... well... I guess they're good for some reason. Anyway I went the other day for my annual and it wasn't really remarkable except for the mirror.
The exam room had a full length mirror in it. Try as I might, it is positioned just so that you HAVE to undress in front of it. How horrifying. Interestingly enough, it is also positioned so that when your gyno is elbow deep in vagina you can see what she is doing. Kind of. From a side view. But you can still see her!!
Ugh. What's up with all that lube? That stuff NEVER comes off you know. I wonder what brand it is, because it SUCKS. I'm bringing my own next time. And why does it smell so funky? I KNOW that's not me. I smelled rosy before I got here. I have a husband you know, one I have to make excuses to because even after five years there's no way I'm offering THAT FUNK for his pleasure.
Why do they have to be so violent with your cervix when they scrape it? There are nerves down there, you know. That evil Q-tip from Hades HURTS, now stop! Why do they need two scrapings? One for the office scrapbook? Then for the mauling of the ovaries and uterus. Stop it!! My gyno told me I have a small uterus. I wish my thighs could take a hint. And why do they try and carry on a normal conversation with you while they palpate your breasts? PLEASE. Just get it over with so I can get dressed in front of your terrible mirror.
Am I the only one who hides their underwear inside the pocket of my shorts just in case my clothes get knocked to the floor?
On a side note, I'm getting an endometrial ablation done on Tuesday. That's where they fry your inner lining so that your harsh periods will stop. Sounds like fun, huh?

House Of (No) Poo

If Caleb was having gross poop explosions last week, we have reached the other end of the spectrum completely.

Now the kid won't poop at all.

His doctor recommended we give him a teaspoon of mineral oil up to three times a day to help his bowels pass without much pain.

He has now consumed six teaspoons of mineral oil without one pebble of poop.

He just went to Nana's today. I think she's in for a BIG surprise.

Bagged

I saw a billboard the other morning actually telling these gangsters to pull their pants up! It was hilarious, it had a picture of a granny on there and she was saying "Pull those pants UP!!" I don't understand how they walk, honestly. This kid the other day had his pants below his butt cheeks with his belt cinched up so that they wouldn't fall. He was walking bowlegged too. If I was a single chick looking for a decent guy, I would NOT be looking twice at these dudes. Come ON. What if they fell off? For one they wouldn't have far to fall, they're almost on the ground anyway. If that happened to me I would feel embarrassed, not gangsta cool. Good grief. My son will NEVER hang his butt out like that, which I don't have much to worry about because he has his daddy's no-butt.

That Holy Feeling 9

Lily and I were conversing on the way home from visiting our family and she began to ask a lot of God related questions. It went something like this:

"Mom, what is the Holy Spirit?"

"It's the part of you that can communicate with God."

"How does it do that?"

"When you pray. The Spirit also helps you grow into a good Christian."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You know that little voice in your head that when you start to do something bad says, 'Oh, you better not do that!'?"

"Yeah?"

"That's the Holy Spirit guiding you to make the right decision."

--silence--

"Do you have any other --"

"Mom wait!!"

"What?"

"God is talking to me!"

"What's He saying?"

"I don't know, I have to listen!"

Then she asked a few more questions that I can't recall. If only she listened to me as well as she listens to Him.

We Got A New Car!!!

Yeah!! We got a new car!! It's a 2008 Dodge Caliber (hey, I remembered!). It's silver and it has a sunroof and we got it for $19K and it has a lot more room than the other car and.... I'm rattling aren't I? You know what was funny, I kind of hated to see the Monte Carlo go; I guess because it was my first brand new car. The day after we got the new car I remembered I had left the CD's in the old car, so I ran up to the car lot to get them. While the saleslady went to get the old car I actually found myself anticipating seeing the old car! Isn't that weird? Then I was like, Hey old friend! One last goodbye! But I didn't cry, so that was good.

But the new car has presented some new problems, and I think they are unique to me. So far I have gotten the windshield wipers stuck to ON, driven a few miles in the dark because I couldn't freaking figure out how to get the lights on, bumble-boobed my chest on the steering wheel when I forgot about how good the new brakes work, and almost had a wreck trying out the new stations on the SIRIUS satellite radio. That thing is cool. It's like having a TV in your car! Oh wait, people have those already? Huh. Go figure.

Here, Kitty Kitty

I love my friend's kids.

They're so.... indescribably unique.

I gave her a couple of tampons to try, and a few days later she found her seven year old son with one unwrapped, dangling it over the side of his bed, trying to lure the cat out by swinging it back and forth. Classic!

Today I spied a paper plate with the following message written by her eight year old daughter:

"Bye Mom. I am becoming a homeless person because I can't take Skylar. (turn over) I'll visit you on holidays. She presses my self-destruct button." My friend told me she actually had a bag packed with a change of clothes, her CD player and a can of Lysol to disinfect the spot she chose to sleep. This is the same child that told me I didn't make her feel peaceful. She kind of freaks me out, to be honest.

We have discovered that Lily is allergic to cats, which really sucks because she really loves cats. I have to remind her to put the cat down and she always replies "Oh I forgot. I'm lellergic."