Really really tragic news.....

Please, everyone. Cry with me.

I just found out that there is not a Dunkin' Donuts in the City that we are moving to in Louisiana . As a matter of fact, there isn't even one within reasonable driving distance either.

What am I going to do without my Mocha Swirl Latte?

Oh man. My heart is aching.

Small Town Parade.....

I have spent 4 years complaining about this small town. It just isn't for me. I grew up in a big city, with lots of things to do, places to go, and people to see. And my whole life was really thrown for a loop when we transferred here 4 years ago.

You see, I'm not really one that just dives in head first and tries to make friends right away. I like to dip my toes in first, test the waters, and gradually warm up in the waters of friendship. And that takes time. Unfortunately, time isn't something that you have a lot of when you are in the military. We are constantly moving on....and leaving whatever friends we made behind.

Today, we went to the small town parade. Now if any of you have ever attended on of these, you know that it is nothing like what goes on in the big cities. This particular town parade consisted of 75 motorcycles (people are very serious about their motorcycles around here!), every fire truck and cement mixer in the county, a couple of police cars with officers that tossed candy to the crowd, and Miss Shrimp Festival waving to her adoring fans from the back of a convertible.

But there were 2 floats that struck a cord with me, the only two floats in the whole parade. The first was the Veteran's Float. It was completely full of empty chairs, to signify all of of the men and women that paid the ultimate sacrifice in service to our country. Taps played from the stereo.

The other float, (which I wish I had a picture of but silly me left the camera at home!) was from a church. My church. It had nothing on it but two pews that had been removed from the sanctuary, and they were filled from end to end with members of our congregation. My middle child spotted her favorite pastor and screamed, "Hey, there's Pastor Steve!" Chaos ensued, as the members of our church screamed their hellos, waved madly, and blew kisses at us. We returned the affection with equal adoration.

It was at that moment that I got all misty eyed and realized, that although it was tough to make friends at this location, I have some wonderful memories here, and met some really terrific people. I am really going to miss this place. Small town atmosphere and all.

Funny story of the day.....

I took the baby to the doctor's office today for her 2 month well baby checkup. I had several concerns about the wee one (what mama isn't concerned about SOMETHING!) to address. One of them being her extreme fussiness and her spiting up so much. My other 2 girls never cried as much, nor did they spit up the fountains of milk that this little one does.

The doctor came in and immediately wanted to hold her. Why wouldn't he? She's pretty darn adorable! I warned him that he would really need the burp cloth, but he declined. I did my best to warn him. Ah well, he asked for it! He was just holding her and I was telling him all about her fussing and crying and puking.....and all the while he was gently bouncing her, and trying to get her to smile. MUHAHAHAHA

The baby let out a tremendous belch, followed by a huge gush of spit up. All over the doctor.

I congratulated him, the baby had taken yet another victim.

He thanked me, looked down at his shirt and remarked, "Well, I was going to write you a prescription for reflux, but she has spit up all over my prescription pad."

I suppose it might have been her own little way of getting back at that mean doctor in advance for the shots she got later. Fair trade, I think.

I have a secret blog.....

I'm starting to post on a separate blog, reserved for pictures of my family. I'm a little weird about posting pictures of my little rugrats. So, if you would like to view it, and I haven't already sent you an invitation, let me know!

The 'pies' have it....

Someone came by for a second viewing of our home yesterday. We worked really really hard to make sure the house was it's best looking. It's crucial that we sell this place. So, I was willing to pull out all the stops to get these people to buy our house.

I baked a pie.

Somewhere I heard that the smell of bread or cookies baking triggers something in the brain that reminds people of home. And what reminds people better of home than a freshly made apple pie?
Nobody makes homemade apple pie anymore, usually we leave it to Sara Lee...nobody does it like her! But I do. And I must admit,(not to toot my own horn or anything!) I make a pretty pie. Almost something like you would see in a bakery for sale the day before Thanksgiving.

So I put it in the oven to bake, and an hour later, my house smelled incredible. I left it on the counter to cool, with a note propped up "Please take home." This could have 2 meanings really...take the pie home or PLEASE TAKE OUR HOME! :)

We left the house and went out for dinner. When we returned a few hours later the pie was gone! So now I am sitting and waiting by the phone, anxious of course, for our Realtor to call to say that these people want to make an offer.

After all, who can say 'no' to pie?!?!!??

Ewwww...look what came off my kitchen floor!!!!

Today, I sent my husband off to the store to buy some vinegar to scrub my floors with. He came home with this. Okay, I thought...looks like a Pinesol bottle, but better for the environment.
Give it a shot.

We hands and knees scrubbed the floor. Then when we dried it with towels, you wouldn't believe what came up off the floor. It was nasty. See for yourself....

Happy Mother's Day!!!!

Happy Mother's Day everyone! I hope that you all have fond memories of the day....I for one want to remember it for always.

I don't think that the pleasure of opening a gift or smelling the pretty flowers are going to be my most memorable events of the day. No, what I will be remembering most about this year will be my husband gearing the kids up to go shopping today.

Around 9 AM, he came up with this brilliant idea that he wanted to give each girl a dollar and take them to the dollar store and let them pick out something for me. He told his plan to the kids....they decided that no, they had to spend the dollar on what they wanted for THEMSELVES. *sigh* I thought for sure I had taught them about giving by now.

By 10 AM, he finally had them fed breakfast. I would have helped some, but I was getting just too much satisfaction watching my husband attempt to do what I do every single day. First, he served the cereal...accept he didn't know that my second born does not eat raisins. So he ended up eating her bowl and making her a bagel.

Then it was time to get dressed. After sending them into their room 3 or 4 times, the girls finally emerged wearing clothes that almost matched, and an exhausted Daddy. I just giggled. Especially with the first born wearing her orange socks with the pink crocs. You see, I don't give them choices on what to wear, I just hand them what they will be wearing and tell them the family motto. "You get what you get, and you don't pitch a fit!" My husband must have forgotten that motto. Then they had to brush hair and teeth. Ever seen a grown man try to do hair clips in a little girl's hair? It is a beautiful sight to behold :) The hairdos were, um......rather interesting. But hey, he tried.

It's almost noon now and they are finally about ready to go. Now since we live 40 minutes from anything that even remotely looks like shopping, he needs to pack water bottles (don't ever be caught anywhere in NC in the summer without a water bottle!), snacks, toys for the car ride, fill the coffee thermos, etc. He's lucky he doesn't have to take the baby, he'd have a diaper bag to fill too. So while he is preparing, the girls have stripped off their clothes and put on bathing suits. Just for fun. Then they start complaining that they are hungry for lunch.

He struggled. I chuckled. He finally managed to get them redressed, reshoed, and out the door.

I put my feet up and enjoyed a nice leisurely afternoon. Thank you, darling.

On your mark....get set...... GO!!!!!!!! I'm sorry, but it's a RANT!

Yesterday was my husband's last day of work, for this particular unit anyway. Usually for the last day at one's unit you should expect some sort of send off, or at least some sort of recognition for the time that you served there for a job well done. My husband had no knowledge if anything had been planned for him, so I asked for him to give me a call when he knew when whatever festivities were planned were going to occur.

At 8:45 my phone rings. It's my darling husband, who says "How fast can you get here? There is a ceremony thing at 9:30." I look down at my unshowered self, still in pajamas, the kids with their snarled hair, and at the baby unfed, but napping on my bed.

"Um...." I wimpered, "It will be a miracle, but I will see what I can do." And hung up.

20 minutes later, I had 2 beautiful girls dressed in their Sunday best with their hair in pigtails, myself showered (is it considered a shower if you only get to stand under the water for 2 minutes?), dressed, with make-up applied, and the baby, who was content with a dry diaper and secured in her carseat......we peeled out of the driveway.

I squealed into the parking lot exactly 0928, and herded the brood into the building at precisely 0:930, feeling very proud of my accomplishment. I was feeling even more proud of my husband, who was expected to receive some sort of medal of achievement that day.

We stood and watched as several men were commended for their work that day. When the ceremony was over, I realized that my husband was NOT one of them and was very very confused. My husband was as well. As a matter of fact, several people looked confused and asked why I was there....if my husband was supposed to be getting something too.

Come to find out, that my husband's medal had been LOST. Lost??!?!? Are you joking me??!!?!? My husband puts in four years of his time, shedding his blood, sweat, and tears for this unit, and they were going to do nothing for him? NOTHING! I really wanted to just cry. His XO came over and apologized for the mistake and promised to get to the bottom of it.

They put together an impromptu "Paddle Passing" in which whomever is holding the paddle got to say some nice things about my husband. That was all fine and dandy, but it wasn't my husband being publicly recognized for his achievements. He really deserves that. I was literally biting my tongue to keep from chewing some people's heads off.

What I would like to know is how it is possible for an office full of people who have months of advance notice of my husband's last day of work and can't seem to get prepared for one little ceremony? I had exactly 20 minutes to prepare the rest of my family, manage to look good myself, AND not get a speeding ticket getting there. I know it's comparing apples to oranges, but it is still really frustrating.

I did want to mention, however, that the girls grabbed hold of the paddle during the "Paddle Passing" so they had to say a few things about their Daddy. The middle child beamed, "I have the best Daddy ever!", and the oldest proclaimed proudly that "My Daddy rocks!" Well, even though my husband's co-workers don't seem to know it, we do. And I guess that that is what is important.