Week four - no puke and nice weather

We pretty much spent our entire week out at Monica's house. Her husband is gone for Army stuff too, so we just let the kids run wild outside, throw snacks at them, and referee when needed. It's been amazing. And possibly the best part of the entire week- there has been no puke. Sam ate a bit of junk food one day and then jumped on the trampoline and complained of a tummy ache. My mind instantly went to the worst possible scenario, but a few minutes of sitting in the shade seemed to make it all better. I just.... I can't with the puke anymore.

One day this week I had to fax some paperwork down to the housing office at Ft Polk (I have a legit baby in my belly, y'all! And he qualifies us for an extra bedroom to boot!), and previously I had looked on the housing website to see what this five bedroom home looked like. I was pleasantly surprised.

Yes yes yes, that'll do thank ya

I was so excited. Super cute, right?? Then I called housing to make sure they received my fax and tried playing dumb to see if I could get any more info out of them.

Me- "So I think my husband said we qualify for a five bedroom home? Is that right? Or is there already one reserved for us? Pregnancy brain I don't retain anything he tells me ha ha!"
Housing, clearly heard this schtick before- "Yes ma'am, that's right. It's in Old Palmetto and his appointment is on Monday."

OLD Palmetto? Nothing about this place looks old.... maybe there are some oldish palm trees lying about? Why am I suddenly feeling like this might not be our place?!

I went straight home and back to the website. And there it was. At the bottom of the page. The most dreaded link of all. VIEW MORE RESULTS. Nooooooo I don't wanna view anymore! I like what I see! I want that one! Please don't make me look at another page of results.

But I did. And y'all. Oh. My. Gosh.

THIS. This CAVE with roof bangs is what was reserved for us! Shock. Horror. Where are the windows? At what rank do we qualify for more windows?! Forget the extra bedroom! I need natural light! Anyways, no need to fret- I have wrung my hands enough this week for all of us. We no longer have this cement wonder reserved for us. Steve couldn't sign for it this week due to a host of other reasons, so they couldn't hold it for us. Shucks. We will look at plenty of four bedroom homes and if a five bedroom is available, we can check that out too. It would be nice to have the extra space, but let's be real- coming from a two bedroom place, four will already be a massive upgrade. This also opened up a nice discussion between Steve and I about the importance I place on natural light in a home and I think that will ultimately help in our house search at Ft Polk. So no worries there. Lots of stuff available at Polk apparently so we will be able to move right in when we arrive.

Will had his first ever popsicle this week. Loved every last drop of it that didn't happen to fall on his shirt, arms, me, or the ground.

Let's be real though, most of it ended up on him. And me.

Monica has introduced me to the world of morel mushrooms.

rinsed

and fried

I'm not a huge mushroom fan, but I will eat just about anything that's been fried and they were really good. I had no idea I was eating such a pricey delicacy, but we probably ate at least $300 of mushrooms at dinner that night? (They can't seem to figure out how to grow them in a harvest sort of setting, so you can only find them in the wild, and only for a small window of time when the temperature is just right and the stars align. Monica and kids found these around their property so we lucked out on the price tag. I initially thought we were just eating some hillbilly foraged food but I have since been schooled. Ha!)

On Thursday evening, Molly dropped my phone in the tub while we were facetiming Steve. On Thursday night, the power went off at midnight. Really a non issue for most folks but my kids sleep with a sound machine with the volume cranked up as loud as it can go. So it became A Very Big Issue for me. Molly alerted me to this outage by yelling from the top of the stairs that there was no noise and it was very dark. Normal things for midnight in most places. This woke the other two of course. I convinced them all that everything was fine and the power would be back on soon. In the meantime Molly had flipped every switch in the house just to be sure and continued to ask why none of the lights or clocks worked. I grabbed the ipad to light my way up the stairs initially because my phone was in a rice bath and looked at the clock. 10:15? How could that be? I went to bed at 10:30??? Oh it was 10:15AM KOREA TIME. SILLY ME. Took me longer than it should have to correct that and figure out the time and get everyone back to bed. I finally got back in bed but couldn't go back to sleep. It was TOO QUIET. I wondered how long it would take for someone to realize the power was out. Nothing was open. I doubt there was even a police officer on duty to notice the lack of lights. Eventually I fell back asleep but was jolted awake by the sudden burst of light in my house once the power was restored at 4am. I got up to turn all the lights off that Molly had tested earlier. Went back to bed. Heard a beeping that almost sounded like the smoke detector at 5am. Turned out to be the timer on the oven. I had no clue that even worked until then. I smashed buttons until it shut off. Back to bed. Kids up at 6. OY. (Insert that "days are long" quote here. THE DAYS ARE HELLA LONG WHEN THEY START AT MIDNIGHT.) We played out at Monica's again that evening and the kids slept through the night that night. (Thank you, Jesus. Thank you.)

Saturday we had a little birthday party for Nic (Monica's nephew, turned 12) and let the kids run wild all day. They had hot dogs and chips and sun and fun.

We also learned the hard way that the spray-on Coppertone (SPF 50) does not offer nearly as much protection as the Crisco-like speshul snowflake sunscreen that I normally buy. Noted.

Found more mushrooms. And look at how filthy she is!!

filthy, and still freakin' gorgeous

I know it appears my children never change clothes, but in reality, I just do laundry THAT OFTEN and they grab whatever is on top in their drawers. So they tend to wear the same three outfits until they literally fall apart.

What a handsome devil this curly-headed boy is. I love him SO. MUCH.

The kids ended up spending the night out at Monica's house Saturday night and they were extreeeeeemely excited. It was such a vacation-like feeling coming home and only bathing one kid and putting him to bed. And the cleanest one at that! Monica obviously gave me the greatest Mother's Day present with that. Will slept through the night and we slept in til 6:45. Which is sad, but that's what sleeping in looks like right now. Martha Stewart, I mean Monica, cooked up a pancake feast for the kids and they watched Tom and Jerry until Will and I arrived to kick off the outside playtime.

Lots of jumping and running and basketball and playing. They eventually made their way down to the creek to catch minnows and crawdads.

Literally Sam's idea of heaven. He loves this stuff.

Molly picked me some flowers for Mother's Day.

Livin' the dream

And the Fonz (my 70-something next door neighbor who frequently wears a Canadian tuxedo with his long sideburns and cowboy boots) brought me over some beautiful flowers. "Happy Mother's Day, darlin'."

Molly picked out the tulips for me at Costco this past week

I thought it was the sweetest thing that he would remember me on Mother's Day. We had some other neighbors come by and wish me a Happy Mother's Day and all in all it was a really great day.

We had frozen pizza and yogurt and fresh strawberries for dinner before facetiming Steve and the kids giving me the presents they made for me at school.

Gahhhh I love this kid!

I absolutely love these questionnaires and was so relieved that "my mommy likes to say....." wasn't one of the prompts. Molly answered very diplomatically on all of these and had me laughing so hard!! Sweet girl! Thanks for presenting a nice image of me to your teachers, however incorrect it may be.

Supah guh!

One of the greatest presents was given to me by anutha' mutha' (or mudda' as Molly says)- Mother Nature. Everything is finally starting to bloom/get leaves and this tree right outside our kitchen window opened up completely on Mother's Day and it is stunning.

I want to bottle it up somehow. Kinda similar to how I wanna bottle up this last week of school for Molly. How is it almost summer break already? Sam has another week left after this, but this is Molly's last Monday. Then it will be her last Wednesday. And then.... her last day, Thursday. We have no timeline yet on when we will be joining Steve in Louisiana. We actually don't have a timeline on anything. The only thing I know for sure is that I am going to have a baby at some point. But even the timeline on that is iffy. Babies don't come on set days! They says 6ish weeks but who really knows?! My whole life is up in the air right now, but the nice weather is really distracting me from all of it, THANK GOODNESS.

You know I love you when I risk getting an infection/virus/ebola for you

So the day before Mothers Day, I went to the post office. I am always very on top of holidays and think gifts and cards out well in advance. I am never late in getting someone a gift on time. And I weigh exactly as much as my ID says I do. This paragraph cannot possibly be loaded with any more sarcasm so let me start a new one.

I was at the post office on Saturday trying to find boxes to fit my mother-in-law's and mother's gifts. This post office is.... less than desirable, as most post offices tend to be. I think, as much cash as I spend keeping that bankrupt institution afloat, they should be rolling out the red carpet every time I pull up. Open my car door, offer to carry my packages (or a kid or two), usher me up to the front of line, past all of the idiots (who, despite having sent packages overseas 15 zillion times before, cannot remember WHICH form they need to fill out), and then offer me the pretty stamps, not the god-awful Garfield stamps that are last month's rejects, and zip-bang-boom, I'm done. This trip should take no more than five minutes. Ah, my post office fantasy.

BUT I DIGRESS. I go to this post office and find the boxes. Mind you, they are all scattered in bigger boxes all over the floor. I guess I'm supposed to know post office code (FBR 4-210 means "medium flat rate box" DUH JENN) instead of ripping open every box in the place, but unfortunately, I am a mo-ron. After doing my good Samaritan deed of opening all the boxes, I start stuffing my boxes. I am so smart to bring my own Sharpie with me! And return address labels! And tissue paper! I ROCK at mailing packages!! Oh, except I forgot packing tape. Hm. There's some lying here on this germ-infested counter. But no scissors... How do I get the tape off of this spool? I try cutting it with my keys. No bueno. I attempt to rip it apart with my bare hands. Am not very strong. Crap, I just wasted a lot of tape. A guy walks in and starts getting his package ready. I try to anticipate how he's going to handle this tape situation. I expect him to look at me and say, "Where are the scissors?!" And I'd be all, "I KNOW, RIGHT?" But instead, this resourceful young barbarian used HIS BARE TEETH to cut through the tape. Gack. No mouthguard, no mouthwash, and from what I could see, he did not bleach the tape before he bit into it. Now maybe I'm what you'd call a germaphobe (but probably not since I abide by the 15-minute rule at home), but that's straight up nasty. God only knows how many people have touched (and bit off) that tape, let alone that dirty old counter, and you're going to just invite that mess into your MOUTH?!
For a brief moment, I contemplated asking this man if he would bite me off some tape too. I only need two long pieces! But dammit he was too quick and rushed off to get in line. Also, I think that might have been a wee bit embarrassing for me. "Um, sir? Could you gnaw off a couple pieces of this tape for me? I'll hold it. Just bite.... right there. Thanks!"

So. I did the unthinkable. I bit it myself. It was gross and I might have swallowed some (because I'm an amateur tape-biter and all), but I got the job done. Was feeling very pioneer woman and proud of myself for being so resourceful. Then I realized that I left my mom's card out of her box. CRAP. This was after I had scribbled "MAMA" on the front of it. Whatever. I stuck a (pretty) stamp on it and sent it on its way.

Despite the hassle of the post office, I was very happy to send the gifts to my mother-in-law and mom. They both deserve far more than my late packages. My mother-in-law has given life to my best friend! I love her! Muah! Thank you for raising such a great man!

And my mama, well, she's the best. I love her to death and am so thankful to have such a wonderful role model. Now if she could just visit a little more often... I'm hoping that if I sit close enough to her, some of her patience will rub right off on me...

Mothers' Day recap

My second Mothers' Day (I was pregnant with Sammy on my first, technically!) was AWESOME. Awesome awesome AWESOME. I got to take a shower, SHAVE MY LEGS, go to church, receive a rose and a special blessing for mothers, expose myself at church again, pick out a new phone, my husband made dinner, and Sammy was extra-cute. I even got a card from the dogs!

Yes, I guess I can't slip anything by you, Internet. I had yet ANOTHER wardrobe malfunction at church. I'm not sure what sort of a sign that is. Why does God want me to expose myself (my CHUBBY, WHITE self) to lots of innocent people? Maybe they aren't so innocent and God wants to punish them by making them look at me, exposed? I can't get inside the Big Man's head, but it happened again.. At least it didn't happen IN church this time. I was walking to the car (go figure, we got a REALLY good, close parking spot Sunday) and I was wearing this cute white dress that I wore way back in the day (like, possibly high school) and Steve had to get on his knees and wrestle with the zipper just to get the stupid thing on me, but it finally zipped. So I'm wearing my cute heels and I'm feeling good, just got out of church, fixin' to head to the store to get my new phone and then, dun dun DUN... My heel gets caught in a little crack in the sidewalk and I ALMOST face-plant (which probably would have been more embarrassing), but I do that whole crazy-waving-arms thing to steady myself and then comment on how graceful I am. Only then do I feel a light breeze through my dress and realize that when I was wobbling around on the sidewalk, I must have inhaled deeply (like I normally do when I get nervous about eating concrete) and POPPED THE ZIPPER. I thought I just popped the top snap thing off, but upon closer inspection (inside the car) Steve pointed out that, no, the actual zipper was still at the top where it was painstakingly wrestled a few hours before. The actual zipper was busted, and steadily creeping down, further and further to reveal..... my panties (You: Oh no not again, please tell me you weren't wearing the same ones as last time.). Rest assured Internet, between flashing the church at Easter and now, I have re-stocked my underwear drawer with good quality Target panties. We can all breathe a big sigh of relief. And after seeing pictures of myself in the dress I decided that I didn't care for that dress much anyways. Makes me look sort of.... pregnant? Not exactly the look I'm going for these days...

We can all agree that for whatever reason God made that zipper pop, it was probably for the best. Amen.

So the second most interesting thing in this post would be... the new phone! As Steve so bluntly put it, "Twelve-year-olds have cooler phones than we do," and it was time to do something about that. My phone was on its way to a slow, lingering, painful death, so we pulled the plug on it early and I got an iPhone! Now I am so "with it." Well, until you ask me to do something on it. Then I turn into some (VERY UNCOOL) 70-year-old who is sort of squinting and poking at it with one finger and saying, "How do you make a call on this dagblasted thing?" But I am slowly figuring it out. (S-L-O-W-L-Y being the operative word.)

I also gotta thank y'all for your suggestions about what to do with all of the Rapidly Reproducing Strawberries. I've made smoothies, put them atop yogurt, fed them to Sammy (although he was not a huge fan), and made that strawberry pie- which completely DISAPPEARED in two days flat. I would love to say, "Oh that Steve! Such an appetite!" But I would be LYING. I was a true partner in crime, doing my fair share of the pie-eating. So maybe desserts would be something I'd consider making more of since we eat them faster than green grass goes through a goose.

Just look at those sweet rolls!!

Or maybe not since I am still staring at my broken-down-zipper-dress that popped open on its own free will (probably due to the PIE).

Don't forget

Mothers' Day is Sunday!! As in, THIS SUNDAY HURRY UP AND GET YOUR MAMA SOMETHING!! I'm not sure why I'm screaming in all-caps because Steve doesn't even read our blog. Not to worry though, I've been dropping some MAD hints starting three weeks ago about Mothers' Day and how I'm a mother and all and no, I may not be YOUR mother personally, but I am Mother to YOUR CHILD, a child who can't burp very well on his own much less drive to the store and buy me flowers and a sweet card with nice sentiments written inside.

Cute though, isn't he?

We'll see if he remembers or if he wakes up early Sunday morning, realizes his fatal mistake, and makes the Early Morning Trip To Walmart to do the Walk Of Shame to the greeting card aisle with all of the other men who forgot what day it is.

I never gave a TON of thought to Mothers' Day before now, even though I was and am very thankful for my mother and all she's done for me throughout my life. I guess I could never imagine just how MUCH she had done for me until I had a little nugget of my own to care for. And now I know. Mothers' Day now holds a TON of significance as I have a whole new way of looking at my mother. I'm looking at her through Mama Eyes. My own Mama Eyes. And now I have the full-on right to say things like, "I've just got that Mama Feelin'," or, "If you don't stop that right now, I'm gonna snatch you bald-headed!" or, "Let me tell you about your birth... You see, it all started with 23 hours of labor..."

I also don't think so highly of my own birthday anymore. Before I was all, "Oh cake and presents for meeeee!!" but now I'm wondering why on earth Sam would get presents and cake for just surviving another year of life. (Although with us as first-time parents, it is definitely something to be celebrated with wonderment and awe.) I'm feeling that when Sam's birthday rolls around, someone should bake a cake for ME.
"Good job Jenn! A year ago today you worked and worked and worked some more to bring that giant watermelon of a baby into the world! You also shared your body and bodily resources with this (not-so) tiny person for nine months, rendering you the only designated driver for miles around. And since then you've endured months of sleepless nights (and days!), turning your own body into a virtual Dairy Queen, cleaning carrot-poo diapers that stretch from butt to neck, being drenched in stinky baby vomit, and crying over the silliest things, like teeth and diaper rash and the thought of sending the little person to kindergarten. Happy birthday to YOU."
Now that's more like it. I appreciate (times a THOUSAND) what my mother put up with and did for me when I was a helpless, needy, floppy (and possibly very annoying) infant. And not only that, but she did it all with another small person to care for! And then she had twins! Four children under four years old! (Insanity or courage?) Regardless, my hero. I can only dream of having the organizational skills and extreme PATIENCE (my GOD, the patience in that woman) that she possesses.

So... all of that to say, be thankful for your mother. She's done SO MUCH to make you who you are.

And now, a few funny quotes about mothers.

“A mother is a person who, seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she never did care for pie.”
-Tenneva Jordan

"There never was a child so lovely, but his mother was glad to get him asleep."
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

"It's not easy being a mother. If it were easy, fathers would do it."
-The Golden Girls

                                                                                   
"My second favorite household chore is ironing. My first being hitting my head on the top bunk bed until I faint.                                                                                               
-Erma Bombeck