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.
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.
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