Reasons Why Being Married To The Army Is Fun, 2nd Edition

Here it is, the 2nd edition of why being married to the Army is fun...Better late than never I always say. I realize that just a couple of days ago, I posted about how hard this deployment has been on my sleep schedule. Of course, once again, sleep is still eluding me as it is four o'clock in the morning and I am still up. Deployment aside, Dave's job allows for great social opportunities with wonderful people that we may not have otherwise met. The group of ladies in the photo above are a small group of the spouses married to some of the leaders in our squadron. We got together earlier this month for what is called a "coffee." Basically, it was a few hours to hang out, have some food and drinks (which this month was spiced cider made wicked good with the addition of Captain Morgan by Kristine!)


During this particular get together, the theme was an Ugly Sweater party, along with a "Dirty Santa" White Elephant gift exchange. The idea behind the Dirty Santa was to lift our spirits through either re-gifting a previously received-unwanted gift, or a gag gift, or just something inexpensive. Most of these gals were very nice and gave nice gifts like candles and Starbuck's gift cards. And SOME were kind of "dirty" in their gift giving which made for much needed laughter!

At the end of the evening, we all walked away not feeling so glum. We definitely missed some of the girls that were unable to come, but look forward to seeing them at future get togethers. Friendship and companionship are wonderful bonds created in this atmosphere. It's because of our spouses that we are brought together, and that is priceless given the time that we must spend apart from our loved ones. We will all eventually part ways, and some of us may not speak again, but some of us will remain life long friends no matter where we end up in the future.


They will be true friends who even though they are in Colorado, and you are in Washington, they will stay up with you until one in the morning playing "Words With Friends" over the phone because they know that you can't sleep. Or they will be the friend that will stay by your side for fifteen hours of labor even after you've barked at them, "why are your hands so damn hot?" while they are rubbing your aching back in place of your husband who is half way across the world! They will be the ones that stick it out with you through the deployments and field problems throughout yours and their spouse's careers, and when you look back, you cannot imagine your life without them.If ever there was a gift that comes out of being married to the Army, friendship is truly the one thing that I cherish. 

Insomnia...

I had the idea when we found out that Dave was going to deploy that I would create my own version of a "Project 365" blog in correspondence to him being gone. It seemed easy enough; he would be gone for a year, I should be able to write about our days while he is gone. What I never anticipated was that I would not be able to bring myself to actually write about him leaving us. God knows that I have tried, and try as I might, I have not been able to put those feelings to paper--or in this case keyboard. I have only been able to talk about my feelings in regards to his departure to a very small circle, and writing about it I guess made the situation too real for me, and honestly it makes me feel too fragile. I say fragile, because I don't like the word weak. I don't identify myself with that word, and I've always prided myself on the fact that Dave said that he couldn't have married a more perfect wife for his line of work. On the other hand, he has also referred to me on occasion as "the ice queen" as I have been known to be somewhat cold and distant. Given his opinions, somehow, the word weak doesn't seem to fit.

Today marks exactly a month since he left, and I guess by now everything concerned with David being gone should feel REAL. I guess that is where my disconnect is. I have spent so much time in this last month avoiding the idea that he has left that I have made this so much harder on myself than it needed to be.

          This is the moon the night Dave left 28 Nov 2011


I returned home the night that I dropped him off to a quiet house, and I stifled the tears that I probably should have cried. Instead, I sat at my computer with the intent of blogging my heart out about my feelings, and all I could do was look at Facebook, upload a few photos, and update my status. I gave myself twelve hours to pull myself together, and put on a strong face, and be the role model that I should be. However, by doing this, I now realize that I was just delaying the inevitable, proverbial ripping off of the bandaid. 

Things were going very well for the first two weeks that he was gone. The household was running smoothly, the kids were in bed on time, the dishes were done after dinner, and I was going to bed by ten o'clock every night. About two and a half weeks in, I began having problems going to sleep. First, I would lie in bed and my mind would begin to race, and then it progressed to a point where I would be so tired,and as soon as I would walk into my empty bedroom my heart would begin to pound, and I wouldn't be able breath. Bedtime had become an event that I dreaded.By my own doing, I developed Separation Anxiety over my husband not being here. Say what??? Gosh that sounds so silly--and dare I say weak?

However, as silly as it sounds this anxiety is what is allowing me to be up writing this blog at three-thirty in the morning when I should be in bed sleeping. But, sleep eludes me...thank goodness the kids are still on winter break!

So, it is in the spirit of the New Year, and new beginnings, and my desire to move past this anxiety and be able to sleep, that I am ripping off this bandaid. I have finally allowed myself to cry tonight over this blog..partially because I feel like such a schmuck because I have always subscribed to the idea that crying is not going to change the situation, but mostly because this is the first time that I have allowed myself to truly FEEL this deployment--the emptiness of David's absence as well as the joy of anticipation that he will be back again.

This coming year holds so many milestones for everyone in our family and accomplishments to be made and be proud of. With the joy of those milestones will also be the empty pain in our hearts of knowing that we can't share those accomplishments together. However, I think I may have made one of my biggest accomplishments this morning with this blog. I allowed myself to feel emotion which is something that I haven't really done in years. I've rediscovered that it's okay to be emotionally attached and vulnerable to someone. I also discovered that it's okay to cry, because even though it may not change the situation, sometimes it just feels pretty damn good to take inventory of one's emotions and get them out.

Mr. Hankey...

Mr. Hankey Exists...

I know this because I found him in my main floor bathroom.

The kids and I settled down to watch “Dolphin Tale” this evening after our wonderful Christmas Day and dinner. The boys begrudgingly joined in after I made them put their new toys on their chargers. Ten minutes into the movie (that is based on a true story), the plot revealed that the older cousin was in the Army going off to war, and he gave his younger cousin a special gift while telling him that, “Family is forever, and don’t worry, I’ll be home soon” I began to second guess my decision to make them watch the movie. I’m thinking GREAT, he’s going to get shwacked, and this is the last thing the boys need to see right now with Dave being in Afghanistan. What was I thinking??? How could I have made such a faux pas? So, in an attempt to do pre-damage control, I told the boys that they could go back to their games, and of course they had been sucked into the movie by that point, and didn’t want to stop watching, with the exception of a trip to the bathroom by Hunter. 

Fortunately, we made it through the movie without any casualties. *I apologize for the spoiler for any who have yet to see the film. “Dolphin Tale” was a tear jerker for sure, but I still highly recommend this flick for an evening of family viewing. 

Once the movie had concluded, the kids returned to their normal lives; the boys went back to their video games, and the girls went into their room to check email, listen to iPod, etc. It was very heartwarming for me to see Jayson helping Hunter get through a particularly difficult section of his video game. I was content. 

It was when Alina went into the bathroom to take her shower and promptly came out and grabbed Alyssa saying, “You need to come see this,” and then Alyssa in turn came and got me and said, “Mom, you need to come see this,” that my evening took a bad turn, and we discovered that we indeed had had a visit from Mr. Hankey. 

Anyone who has watched the Christmas episode of “South Park” is familiar with Mr. Hankey. He even has his own song, “I’m Mr. Hankey, the Christmas poo, Seasons Greetings to all of you...” and a trade marked phrase, "Howdy-Ho!" Well, I found him in the girl’s bathroom. For when I walked into the bathroom, upon first sight, everything looked fine, until I turned my attention to the waste basket. There at the top, was a pile of poo, and on the floor beneath was a small puddle of water. Who had done this? WHO DOES THIS kind of thing??  My 6 year old son, Hunter that’s who.

First thing I asked during his impromptu interrogation was indeed, “WHY DID YOU DO THIS??” Hunter, “Because I was afraid to flush the toilet because I thought that (now tears are falling) the toilet would clog.” (insert rubbing eyes as a futile attempt to stop crying.) As I see his hands balled up, rubbing his crying eyes, the thought of HOW the poo ended up in the waste basket dawned on me, because I noticed dark brown crap (literally crap) embedded under his nails. “OH.My.Gosh, Hunter, did you pick that out of the toilet with your hands?” Hunter, “Yes (still crying).” “Did you wash your hands?” “NOOOO (sobbing).” As I quickly went to remove his poo laden hands from his face, I realize that his pajama sleeves were damp with poo water.

I lost my mind as it was racing with images of Hunter rubbing his eyes with poo laced fingers; on to him playing his 3DS and then handing it off to Jay who then also played the 3DS, so now Jay’s hands have been defiled by Hunter’s poo residue. It is at this point that I snapped, and was now screaming, “GO WASH YOUR HANDS!” Now, let me preface Hunter washing his hands by telling you that Alyssa happened to break the drain in the sink earlier in the day by yanking up on the plunger too hard. Just hours prior, I had sacrificed a beautiful Calphalon steak knife by prying the drain cover out of the drain. I had placed the drain cover on the side of the sink so it would be readily available when the repairman came. 

So, Hunter was now washing his hands, and I left the bathroom to go get paper towels and Lysol to clean the disgusting Christmas gift that my adorable son had left for me. I came back to a sink filling with water as Hunter had replaced the drain stopper back into the drain, and the water was getting higher and higher. Now, having to sacrifice Calphalon steak knife number two to pry the stopper out, I made Hunter sit in the hall while I cleaned the bathroom.

So, 25 minutes later, the bathroom was finally cleaned up, the trash removed to the outside garbage can, the wastebasket liner replaced, and floor cleaned; sigh, I have now calmed down enough to take Hunter upstairs for a bath. 

I am happy to report that we made it not only through the movie, but also the rest of the evening with the only casualty being my sanity. Hunter ended the evening being grounded from his 3DS for the rest of the night (which he was going to bed anyway), as well as for the entire next day, and I ended the evening by wiping down his 3DS with Lysol wipes, and drinking a glass of wine. All in all, I can say that this Christmas will be unforgettable for me, and I’m sure for all of my kids as well. I can now say that with some degree of certainty that Mr. Hankey does exist, although I would prefer is he stayed in the toilet as he definitely did not spread any Christmas Cheer. Merry Christmas, and here’s hoping for a Happy New Year!

Reasons Why Being Married To The Army Is Fun...1st Edition

I have decided that every Friday I will list a reason why being married to the Army is fun. Honestly, deployments, and work schedules aside, it truly is fun! If you're not part of it, you have no idea. So, this is my way of shedding a little light on the matter. So let me begin with last evening...

As I gussied myself up for the evening...totally ignorant of what would unfold later on, I decided to wear my black leather boots...the ones with stiletto heels. (The hubby likes them, so I figured, I'd be nice.)When we arrived at Famous Dave's BBQ, the waiter came to take our drink order. Given the week that I have had, I felt that I was entitled to a "Smokin' Tea" last night at 1-14 CAV's Hail and Fairwell. I didn't realize how large the glass was going to be, and before I knew it, I had polished off one, and had ordered another. So, you can only imagine my angst when I found out that I had to stand up on a chair!

Imagine me...tired from lack of sleep, slightly buzzed, in 3 1/2 inch heels with skinny jeans that I could hardly breath in. I get up on the chair, which by the way had a padded seat (All I could imagine was my sharp heel puncturing the pleather upholstery), whilst Dave's friend exclaimed "Holy Heels Batman!" which about made me pee my pants! Yes, I was now standing on a chair...waiting for my hubby to place a garter on my leg, without using his hands...and I was still worried that my heel would punch a hold in the chair...

Last night, I was inducted into the "Order of the Garter" an Army tradition specific to the Cavalry (the Army is HUGE on tradition).

According to legend...and the card that I received last night, "when Calvary Troopers went off for several days and weeks scouting, their wives, and girlfriends would wear yellow ribbons in their hair while their Troopers were away." Over the years, the idea has morphed into many different things, like yellow ribbons on the trees, etc. The Cavalry tradition has become that when a new wife comes to her first Hail and Farewell, she will be welcomed into the "Order of the Garter." The Trooper will bestow a yellow garter upon his lady's leg, and kiss her on the cheek for good luck.

I was unable to attend the previous Hail and Farewell, and therefore did not receive my garter...so they got me at this one. So, I'm standing on the chair...now on one foot while Dave shimmies the yellow garter adorned with the small, gold, crossed sabers up my leg. Thankfully, this task was uneventful, and my heel did not go through the pleather seat, and I did not fall while trying to balance myself on one foot.

For ever more, I am part of a special group of women...the wife of a Cavalry Trooper. As long as we are in a CAV unit, I will wear my garter to every unit social function (hail & farewells, balls, stable calls, etc.)

So, this will conclude my first installment of reasons why being married to the Army is fun.  Many, especially those in the non-CAV sector of the Army may find my above mentioned accounts a little hokey, but then again there is a saying: If you aint't CAV, you ain't...well, you get the gist I'm sure...

Happy Valentine's Day...A couple of days late.

Okay, so I realize that I have been slacking on the posts. Things have been very busy as of late, and I can't lie, the stupid "Zuma" game on Facebook has been WAY to entertaining for me! I cannot believe that I just admitted that. With that said, let me take a moment to reflect on this year's Valentine's Day, and the special relationship that I have with my sons. I have the most thoughtful boys, and all three of them will make wonderful husbands one day (this thought truly saddens me because that means I will have to share them!)

Anthony and Hunter both approached me a few days prior to Valentine's Day to let me know that they wanted to get me a necklace for the big day. I thought that was so sweet that they had thought of this all on their own. This past weekend, Jayson, Alyssa, and I had dental appointments, so David kept Anthony and Hunter with him. He took them to his work to help transfer his belongings from his old office into his new one. When he offered to treat them to lunch afterward, they both were very specific in their choices for lunch...both places where they wanted to eat were located in the food court at the PX here on Lewis, lol. Unknown to Dave, they had motives alterior to just eating lunch. When they arrived at the PX, both boys led my husband right to the jewelry counter. These two were on a mission, and somehow, they knew exactly what they wanted to buy, and where it was located (the idea that they had done such good reconnaissance scares me, lol). They left the PX that afternoon with bellies full of Taco Johns, and Anthony's Pizza...and a 14KT gold pendant that says #1 Mom.

They were so excited that they could not wait until the 14th, so they gave it to me that afternoon. They were so happy to give me that gift, you could tell that it actually made them happy to do so. While it's a little gaudy, and totally unlike anything that I would normally wear, it has earned a spot as my favorite piece of jewelry. I will definitely be sure to display it proudly around my neck!

Jayson was more subtle in his Valentine's gifting. Jayson has had some struggles in school, and he has been working extremely hard...especially this last quarter. Instead of buying me a gift, he got me a card. Upon reading his card, I was reduced to tears...

Dear Mom,


Happy Valentine's Day to you. I wish that your Valentine's Day is special, and I hope that my grades are good because those are your Valentine's present. I've been working my butt off to earn those grades. You are special to me because you helped me earn those grades. If it weren't for you and Dad helping me, I would have failed. That's why you are special to me and you mean a lot to me. So I will give you all of my love on Valentine's Day!

I Love You Mom,
Jayson

I cannot express how special, and how loved his card makes me feel. The fact that he took the time to actually write a personal message in addition to what the card said was so thoughtful. Heck, he could have written this down on a sheet of paper, and I would have loved it just the same. In reading his words, I see how much my son has grown, especially in this past year, and I could not be more proud of him. I will keep this card always, and cherish it forever.

My boys are wonderfully thoughtful. In their own ways, they made my Valentine's Day feel more like Mother's Day! While the gifts and cards are nice, I hope they realize that they make me happy just by being themselves...although...the gifts and cards are definitely a nice bonus for being a mom to such great guys! I know one day the time will come when they are giving gifts and cards to someone else. While the thought truly saddens me now, I know that I will be able to pull out my cards, artworks from school, and gifts from years gone by, and relive these memories for the rest of my life...or until my memory fails...

The Love of a Brother

If any of you have siblings, then you know what it is like to have someone in your life that you can constantly annoy, compete with, and fight with. You would also know what it is like to have unconditional love for them, and someone who will have your back when life turns against you...well in most families that is, unless your family puts the "fun" in dysfunctional. At any rate, with four kids in our house, things are always very hectic, there is usually never a quiet moment, and the arguments are plenty--with the exception of Jayson and Anthony for the most part.

My fourteen year old son Jayson, and my seven year old son Anthony get along perfectly (quite the contrary to my sister and I who are the exact age difference). They are so close that I was just telling someone the other day that I do not ever recall a time where Anthony and Jayson have ever fought. You will never know how monumental that fact was to me. Anthony is going through a tough time..he has a temper, and he is having a hard time controlling that temper. While the most affectionate, loving child you could ever want, he is also not the type of child that you can confront head on with anything, and he does not transition well with changes. Because of this, every day is carefully planned to include letting him know in advance what his day will consist of, down to the simplest things like letting him know in the morning that he can have an hour afterschool to go out and play, and then he will come inside and do his homework. Emphasizing that he cannot be angry when I tell him it's time to come in. I have to let him know in the morning that he will go to bed at eight o'clock, and when I tuck him in, I have to remind him that he will have to get up early for school and that he cannot get angry about that fact. It's tiring, and frustrating, and I would not wish this on any parent.

There is nothing more heartbreaking than having your child melt down and tell you that they hate you. Having to watch them lose control, and punch your husband because they are so angry over something like him saying that he cannot stay up as late as his older brother, and it's time to get ready for bed...or that it's time to practice math facts when they were not expecting to do so because they literally cannot mentally handle something out of the blue, or a non-structured bedtime schedule. Let me add that these are not normal tantrums, and I do not spoil my children. Their actions have consequences. This is a legitimate issue in which normal consequences do not apply.  Because of this I have the planning of Anthony's day down to a science, or at least I'm working very hard to do so. My afternoons are gone, I spend them with him, sitting beside him during homework time because he wants me there. I've now realized that I have to prepare dinner before he gets home because otherwise we will eat at seven!

I made a mistake yesterday morning. I woke up late, and was then running late. I asked Jayson to go upstairs, wake Anthony and have him get dressed for school while I prepared breakfast. I should not have done that. Anthony did not want to get up, and Jayson wanting to make sure that Anthony got up and dressed for school, decided to dress Anthony for school while he was trying to sleep.

This resulted in the first argument that I have ever seen between Anthony and Jayson, and the first thing that came to my mind was, "Why on Earth did I open my mouth and say that I had never witnessed a fight between them?" I called Jayson downstairs before things escalated and explained that I realized that he was trying to help me, and that he was not in trouble,  but next time to just come get me. I then went right into calming Anthony down mode. I had him come downstairs and sit in his area by the front door to calm himself down. Then I reiterated to Jay that he was not in trouble. We also talked about how not to deal with Anthony when he's mad, and Jay felt bad. He tried to apologize to Anthony, and Anthony would not accept Jay's apology.

While I was talking with Anthony, trying to put the mental pieces back together in time for him to go to school, Jay took it upon himself to assemble the lunches for the day. I was very thankful for his help yesterday morning, and so happy to see how mature and responsible he has become. His help kept me from falling apart. Before I took Anthony to school, Jayson apologized to him again for trying to get him dressed while he was still in bed. Anthony finally accepted the apology, but did not offer any apology in return.

As we were driving home from school yesterday afternoon, Anthony told me that when he opened his lunch, Jayson had written a note on his napkin. He said, " I love you little brother." That melted my heart, and I think it also made Anthony realize that he had no reason to flare up at Jay the way he did, because he apologized to Jay as soon as he walked in from basketball practice. Once again they were best friends, and all was well. Jayson taught me a valuable lesson in forgiveness yesterday...and a valuable lesson in how to be a brother--or sister. He showed me that your brothers or sisters are who they are, but they are always your siblings, and you need to get past what they do wrong, and let them know that you still love them.

I love my children for many reasons. I'll admit that I often wonder why I was given such challenging children to raise. I now realize that even as adults we still have many lessons to learn. Some of us are a little harder to teach. My children are giving me a wealth of knowlege that I need to put toward better use...

Farts are Funny, Farts are Cute...Farts are Sh#t Without the Mess...

Anyone who has children knows that at one time or another, your children will receive gifts that you wish they didn't. You know what I'm talking about, those loud obnoxious toys with lights and sounds, that when the children aren't looking we stealthly slide the switch to off. The ones where once the batteries die, we make up a fib that we don't have enough batteries, can't find the batteries, or we will go buy more batteries...with full intention of not replacing them. While the toy I'm speaking of was extremely obnoxious, I can't say that I have ever switched it off, or lied about replacing batteries. It has disappeared a time or two (not by my hand), and thankfully been recovered. I've even saved it from the hallowed depths of my washing machine by checking my son's pockets before throwing his pants in. It was temporarily lost in our past move, which was devastating for my son Anthony, but thankfully recovered. It was The Fartmaster.

For Anthony's 6th birthday, more than anything else, he wanted a "fart machine." I had no idea where to begin the search for such an item. In fact, I believe that I was pretty sure that I really didn't want to embark on that search. One of my friends who lives in North Carolina, happened to be at a little trinket store, and found by accident The Fartmaster. Being the thoughtful lady that she is, and I totally adore you chica..you know who you are! She sent Anthony The Fartmaster. She didn't tell me that she had found it, she didn't tell me what she was sending...I remember her saying "It's a surprise! You have to let me know when you get it."

I knew right away what I was in for when I checked the mail the day it arrived. As I am bent over pulling the mail out of my mailbox (we have those silly mail kiosks, and our box was toward the bottom of the kiosk), I grabbed the padded envelope, and it farted! Thank goodness nobody else was nearby, they may have thought it was me! When Anthony tore into the package, he resembled Ralphy from "A Christmas Story" unwrapping his Red Rider Air Rifle. He was so excited. After all of the gifts that he had received for his birthday, this little fart machine on a key ring, was the greatest gift he could have received. The joy on his face was unforgettable, and he immediately went to work making his siblings and myself "fart." The smiles, and giggles were intoxicating since David was deployed, and unable to be here for his birthday. I was in bliss seeing them all so happy.

The Fartmaster even inspired a "fart war" in my house when my parents came for the holidays that year. My Dad went to Spencers and purchased his own fart machine that had a wireless remote, allowing him to hide the speaker in different places and use the remote to set off farts when unsuspecting children were around. My house was full of happiness and flatulence for the holidays in 2009...thank goodness it was only of the electronic nature!

Over the months The Fartmaster continued to bring much joy to my children, especially Anthony. Although, I have to say that I wasn't thrilled when he brought it to the grocery store on a couple of occasions. Overall, I have to admitt that of all of the toys my kids have received over the years that make sounds, this has been the most tolerable. Nobody knows for sure how the little fart machine met it's demise. Did the battery finally fail from over use? One thing I know for sure is that the last time I saw it work was two days ago when Anthony hid it on Dave's leather club chair. Unbeknownst to him, he sat on it, and due to the placement on the leather, it let out a louder sound...it was hysterical! Could the weight of my hubby have killed it? We'll never know. Dare I say that I might actually miss it? I may. Will I replace it? I'm not sure yet...

My version of the Cascades...Mt. Laundry & Mt. Dishes.

On a clear day, I can see Mt. Rainier from my front yard. It is one of the most spectacular things one can imagine seeing, and I feel lucky everyday for being able to see something so beautiful. One of the things that made me happy for moving back to the west coast was being able to see real mountains again. In my book, mountains covered in trees are not mountains. I want to see the hard, jagged rock protruding out of the ground, glowing in hughs of purple, blue, and orange in the backdrop of the evening sunset. What I totally detest seeing is the mountain ranges that crop up in my home on a daily basis.

Why is it so hard for me to keep up on my laundry and dishes? With six people in my family, I have at least a load of laundry every single day. If I miss a day, I'm screwed. Dishes are no better. I try to be green and not use paper plates, and plastic silverwares, but seriously, I spend a chunk of my day in the kitchen between cooking and cleaning it up! What is a girl to do?

I'm a realist. I know that the idea of not throwing clothes after one wear into the laundry is lost upon my children. I also realize that my hubby's job requires him to wear PT's in the morning for workout, and a full uniform each day. My people eat breakfast, they eat lunch, they eat dinner, and snacks in between. These foods must be cooked in something. I know that there will never be an end to the circular file of laundry and dishes, it's just nice to be able to vent about it...

FINALLY Almost Settled In!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!! It's been a while, I know. We moved, school started, and then came the holidays--and the cold weather! I realize it's winter, but I've been accustomed to HEAT in my house over the course of my life. We have come to realize during this long holiday weekend of sub freezing temperatures that some of the radiators in our house are not working. Compiled with the fact that our 1940's home has the original exterior doors, and single pane windows...well, I'm in my own personal ice box thank you very much. I say this while I am sitting on the loveseat in my living room dressed in winter clothes from head to toe..to include socks and slippers, whilst covered in a quilt with my Shih tzu peacefully snoozing on top of my feet to keep them warm. Meanwhile, I can hear my neighbor's daughter playing "The Spinning Song" on their piano which happens to be on the shared wall between their living room and ours.


Ahh, the joys of living in military housing. It's actually not that bad. I'm enjoying the fact that my husband is still able to be home  by 6:30 pm (because he doesn't have a 45min. commute). I like the fact that I can walk my son to school, and that the grocery store is less than 2 miles away. The close proximity to grocery shopping has proved to be worth it's weight in gold during the last few weeks (the holidays). David ran countless trips to the store for me to pick up items that I needed.[Really, how could I run out of ginger when I knew that I was going to make Gingerbread Cookies??? Better yet, how could I have forgotten to pick it up when I was grocery shopping?] Thank goodness the holidays or over, and I can stop cooking, and spending so much money at the grocery store.


Yes, indeed the holidays have concluded, and all things must go back to normal. The kids go back to school tomorrow, and Dave and I will take down the tree, and put away the decorations. Kind of funny that his last day off is spent "working". We will no doubt quickly return to the fast pace with work functions, school functions, and field problems. Hopefully the fast pace will return with some warmer weather...