2011 in review

 I've done this the past few years, it's kind of stupid and MySpace-ish but oh well

1. What did you do in 2011 that you’d never done before?
Hmmmm, I guess went to California.  We drove through it then went back to go to the San Diego zoo.

2. Did you keep your New Year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
Well last year I said I just wanted to survive, did that.  Once again I am saying I want to get back to a weight that I am comfortable with after having a baby.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Yes, other than myself a few people did.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
close to DH, my grandmother is still hanging on back home.

5. What places did you visit?
San Diego, just the zoo but it was a great day trip.

6. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?
Some peace of mind, I wish we had answers (I'm keeping this the same as last year)

7. What dates from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
Feb 5 - TC's first B-day, it was such a nice day and my mom was able to come and celebrate
April 21 - the 10th anniversary of my dad's death and the day we found out we were expecting #2
August 8 - the day we took off from WA to AZ
December 17 - the day Little A was born


8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
being a great mother of 2!

9. What was your biggest failure?
Is it bad if I am having a hard time thinking of one?  I know I've had some but nothing so major that it sticks out as the biggest.  I can just think of running, my shins but that's not really in my control.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
2nd degree tear haha, killer shin splints

11. What was the best thing you bought?
kitchenAid Stand mixer, I am sure I will want to upgrade to a bigger one soon but for now I'm happy

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
once again, TC.  She did so great with the move, my pregnancy, and becoming a big sister.  She amazes me.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Doc's old unit as a whole and the TBI clinic

14. Where did most of your money go?
bills

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
having a second baby, really really scary and exciting!

16. What song will always remind you of 2011?
hmmmm, Till The World Ends, TC loves dancing to some Britney

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder?
happier
b) thinner or fatter? fatter but the baby weight is coming off
c) richer or poorer? poorer

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
kept in touch with my friends back home

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
feeling sick, that pregnancy was hard

20. How did you spend Christmas in 2011?
With my husband, daughters and father in law at our new home in AZ.

21. Did you fall in love in 2011?
like you wouldn't believe, Little A is amazing and watching TC around her makes me love her more than I thought I could.

22. What was your favorite TV program?
ummm...Glee I think

23. What did you do for your birthday in 2011?
packed the moving truck all day then went out to lunch

24. What was the best book you read?
yikes, I didn't!

25. What did you want and get?
a healthy baby (again)

26. What did you want and not get?
to move to the east coast

27. What was your favorite film of this year?
Bridesmaids

28. Did you make some new friends this year?
I did

29.What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
my family, seems to be coming together

30. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?
maternity crappy

31. What kept you sane?
no other choice, one pf us has to be :)

32. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Ugh non - I am not impressed by those people

33. What political issue stirred you the most?
those stupid occupiers...

34. Who did you miss?
Everything about home but that's no different than any year

35. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011.
We really have no control.  (Keeping this one too)

hurting (and other complaints)

I know it's only been 12 days but by this time with TC I was working out already.  I should have expected the recovery to be harder this time, TC weighs 25lbs and I pick her up countless times a day.  I'm still taking Motrin 600 but my uterus just plane hurts.  When we are out I start limping after about 20 minutes and when I stand up it takes about a full minute before I can stand up straight.  I don't know if this is entirely normal, I called the nurse at my OB's office and she told me to take it easy for a few days and see if it gets better. 

Take it easy, I don't really know how to do that.  I told Doc that I wasn't supposed to pick TC up for a few days and he thought that was pretty funny, honestly who can stop picking up their kid?  She needs to get in and out of her crib, her booster seat, her car seat and also needs momma cuddles now more than ever.  Yesterday my take it easy included taking down the Christmas tree and moving my furniture back into place.  Doc has been a lot of help, the problem is that I need to ask for help.  I am not so great at this, I love that he's helping but I feel bad asking - in my mind if he wanted to help he would just do it.  I told him this and he's doing his best to take initiative but he doesn't see the same messes that I see. 

My major annoyance is my father in law, but that is a post of its own.

These past few days I've had some really bad bleeding, it makes me really nervous because I thought I was done with that.  And I've been researching what the bleeding and pain can mean and it scares that crap out of me.  So far I haven't hit the mark the nurse told me to look for so I haven't been checked out (trying to not be too graphic).  I just hope it goes away so I can stop stressing.  I would also like to stop hurting so I can start working out, or at least walking!  I've lost 15lbs but need another 12 to get back to mt starting weight (which was 150 - remember after TC I was stuck on 157 for ever but started using the daily burn app and dropped some weight).  I really want to get back to 140 but at this point I just want to fit into at least one pair of jeans with a zipper.  If my size 4s never again see daylight I will survive. 

Doc really has been great, like super great.  He's a good father, he has been since day one with TC and he's juggling both of them so well.  It's obviously harder for me because I have the baby attached to my boob several times a day and TC uses that time to act out.  I just with Doc had a little more patience with her when she acts out but that's nothing new.  The lack of sleep has been really hard for him, his headaches are horrible when he can't sleep.  He's slept on the couch a few times just to get some sleep.  I'm alright with this, he can't do much at night anyway.  Addie's been sleeping so well, I've been putting her down around 11 in her bassinet then she usually wakes around 2 and around 6 then we get up around 9 (Doc gets up with TC).  I can't complain about that!  Last night she was up every 2 hours but I was able to get up with TC this morning which was nice, I miss our mornings together. 

The hardest part has been the dynamic change with TC.  I can't pinpoint it, I am not treating her differently and she's not really acting differently but something is different.  She's the big sister now, not the baby.  I miss her even though she's usually right next to me.  Gah, I'm going to cry even just thinking about it.  It's an adjustment, I just hope I'm doing enough to balancing it all and TC knows that she is still my little lady. 

Santa

I know some people will think I'm crazy for taking my 6 day old to see Santa but yesterday that is exactly what I did.  I did keep her wrapped up in her own blanket to try to keep any germs away.

The first success of the day was that I survived on my own with both girls, TC was in the stroller and baby sister was in my Moby wrap (seriously, how do moms of more than one exist without this thing? not only is it hands free but it keep people out of her face).  You may remember last year when TC and Santa became best friends, this year she was a little stand offish at first.  I think a lot of it  had to do with everyone making such a big deal about the baby but once she was safe in Santa's arms it was ALL about TC.  And she hammed it up as she always does.

The best part about it all was that I won a $55 package from a local mom's website so I didn't have to spend a dime.  Santa pictures weren't really in the budget so this was a big plus. 

Sure this might be picture overload but I can't pick which I love best.

frustrated with my care

Let me start by saying that my doctor has been great, I had a few long waits before appointments but that's my only complaint with him.  I would have preferred to have my old doctor from Ft. Lewis but oh well.

When we went into triage last week the nurse who checked us out, well I don't want to get into it because I know it's upsetting for some but she started talking to me about baby loss.  As if that wasn't always on my mind.  At that point I thought that was uncalled for and when I told my doctor he was floored.

The nurses in L&D were great, they listened to my requests and answered all of my questions.  If I pushed the button they were in very fast.  After A was born they were all about letting me hold her and getting as much skin to skin and breastfeeding time as I wanted before they took her for her vitals and stuff.

My first nurse in recovery was great too, I'm glad I had the good one first because she had to help me use the bathroom and get me fitted into my sexy mesh undergarments.  After her shift was over it went down hill.

The day nurse that came on had an accent so thick that she had to repeat almost everything she said, I think that annoyed her because she stopped coming in really.  I asked for information about Group B Strep because I was positive and I wanted to know if there was anything specific that I had to look for, I asked her 4 times and she finally brought them in.  Later when she was in asking about TC's feeding schedule and I told her the last time I tried she wasn't into it and just wanted to sleep.  The nurse then asked if I was planning on supplementing with formula and I said no and she acted shocked and concerned "you're not?!".  She knows I plan to breast feed and I think she should have been more supportive of that and offered a lactation consultant before a bottle.  Had this been my first time and I was feeling bad about A's hesitation to eat I would have been very flustered and who knows what I would have done.  (No I don't think formula is poison but choosing to breastfeed and sticking to it is hard and if that is what one wants to do they need as much encouragement as possible). 

Because this nurse was so frustrating I decided that I would be leaving that night, I would be alright to go when A hit 24 hours at 7:51.  This nurse knew all day that this was my plan.  The baby still needed her genetic testing and I needed my DTaP... I made sure several times that we would be good to leave at 8 and she said yes.  The shift change happened at 7 and we were there, waiting.  Finally my new nurse came in and I again asked about our discharge and reminded her of everything that we needed done.   This woman was even worse, I asked her to repeat what she was saying a few times and later decided that I would never understand her so I gave up and just did the nod and smile thing.

At 8 she took A for her testing after I finally got my shot.  Then she got my paperwork together and started signing me out.  I asked if I would get anything with information about my birth and A, the regular hospital discharge stuff that I got with TC and after every ER visit I've had.  She said no I don't need any of that.  I told her I did for my Aflac paperwork but she said they don't give that out.  Well today when I got the A's first appointment I was asked for it - they seemed annoyed that I didn't have it but I assured them I asked for it.  The doctor today had no information about my baby.

Finally I have to bitch about my doctor today.  She told me that I need to "step it up" on breast feeding because A's weight was down 10oz.  I haven't gotten more than 3 hours of sleep a night because I am up all night feeding and I feed on demand all day.  I am perfectly fine with the dip in weight that she's had, and when TC had a similar dip everyone assured me she was fine.  This doctor wants me to wake her to feed every 2 hours.  Nope, that's not going to happen - waking a baby just to have her scream and not want to feed isn't going to help anyone.  She's making me come back on Thursday to have her weighed.  Once these appointments are done I will be switching doctors.  Tell me to step it up, F you lady.  Once again, a less experienced breastfeeder may have been discouraged.

The good news is that you aren't stuck with a doctor, you have a choice.  We will bring A to the clinic on post, if the medics doing vitals stink like smoke I will speak up about that too.  Just a friendly PSA for others unhappy with their medical care remember that doctors work for you, while you may not write a check directly but your insurance does.

And for fun here's a picture of my girls.

Number 2 is here

I am going off of about 9 hours of sleep since friday so hopefully I will at least be writing in complete sentences.  I figured I should share the happy news since I was just called out on facebook (or it was for someone else and I am just that self centered).

On Friday morning I had my 39 weeks appointment, my doctor and I were talking about an induction which was never part of my birth plan but we were afraid that the pregnancy was causing damage to my back.  Doc was on board because he had seen how hard it was getting for me to get around and he was beyond discouraged that the extreme contractions I had been having weren't doing anything.  Because of the holidays there were a lot of inductions on the schedule so we decided that I would just go to labor and delivery while he was on call, that would be the next day.

Doc immediately entered shock mode.  We finished up our shopping and went home.  The rest of the day was kind of a blur - I was doing my best not to spill the beans to my family or most of my friends, we decided a long time ago to wait until after the baby arrived to tell anyone we were even at the hospital.  I am so glad we did, I didn't have to worry about keeping everyone updated and I didn't have the stress of being sure I called the right people first.  We didn't get much sleep that night, we were excited/worried/antsy for Saturday to get there.

We woke up, ate breakfast and made sure TC was all set with Doc's father (I may or may not have cried while putting together her sippy cup).  We got to the hospital around 10AM and followed my doctor's orders, say I thought I was in labor.  The triage nurse hooks me up and there we sat and waited...nothing.  The one day I needed to have contractions I had zero!  She called my doctor and he told her to admit me and he would induce based on my medical history and that I was complaining of back labor.  For the next 3ish hours he fought with the nursing staff and finally got me in.  Doc was beyond frustrated because those 3 hours could have been spent giving me the antibiotic I needed before delivery.  We finally got to the delivery room and then I started having contractions and even dilated a centimeter before they started the Pitocin.  The nurses said they were going to make me wait four hours before even starting the pit so the antibiotic could be in my system.  After 2 hours my doctor poked his head in and Doc filled him in, within a few minutes the pit was started.  There seemed to be quite a power struggle between my doctor and the charge nurse all day...

Things were picking up, I was having contractions but nothing unbearable, I waited until 5 to ask for my epidural.  At that point the pain wasn't the worst thing in the world but I didn't think I wanted it to be much worse while I had to sit still for the epi.  The anesthesiologist tried to kick Doc out of the room but I begged him to let him stay, he said that it was because some dads think they can handle it but freak when the see the needles and pass out...we chuckled and I told him that Doc was a medic and has seen far worse.  They chatted for a bit and Doc told him that he worked for Special Ops and the guy knew he was fine, they were talking about chest tubes and other gross stuff that Doc does.

This epi was different that what I had with TC, they don't give as strong of a dose as I got with TC which made me nervous but what can you do?  I couldn't really feel any contractions and I was nervous that they were stalling out but they assured me I was still going.  I pushed my epi button about an hour after I got it and suddenly felt really tired - like I thought I was going to pass out and have no way to push this kid out, I looked over at my BP and it was like 80/50 or something like that, the nurses shot something in my IV and I was back.  Around then they checked me and I was moving right along.  The nurse told me to call her when I felt pressure in my bottom, I told her there was pressure but not quite in my bottom more towards the front of that area.  She said it was fine and off she went.

Doc was playing on his computer and I was playing on my phone when the pressure (still not on my bottom) got really bad and I started to freak out.  I didn't feel that with TC and with this came more water (which I thought was all out since they broke it) in my head I was losing blood.  Doc freaked out because he couldn't do anything to help me.  The nurse checked me and assured me that everything was fine and I was ready to go.  I begged for my doctor to hurry up and I prepared Doc that he might see something he doesn't want to see...

This is my second child, you would think I would remember all of this but the truth is that I hardly remember any details about TC birth.  As soon as we walked in the hospital that morning I kind of detached myself from it all and I felt like I was watching someone else go through it.  That and I was 10cm for a long time before TC was ready and I had to push her down for over a hour before she was in position.  That and the totally numb epi it was different.  I am not saying that one birth experience was better than the other I'm just glad I got to have both.

(This is the graphic part - it's not too bad) The doctor rushed in and I tried a push with the nurse while everyone was getting ready, one big push (three breaths through one contraction) the head was half way out.  Another dark haired little girl!  Then my doctor came over and 2 contractions later she was on my chest.

I was in love, right away - just smitten.  Doc too, his face was amazed.  (He admitted that he has almost no memory of TC's birth because it was 3 weeks after his TBI.)  I wished TC could have been there right away but was grateful for time alone with Adair.

We are home now, I will post about my hospital stay and TC's reaction soon but until there here is our little lady.

baby watch 2011

I guess I haven't given a baby update in a while but as you could have guessed, I am still pregnant.  I'm 38 weeks and 4 days (my doctor has me at 39 weeks today).  She has dropped down quite a bit, here is my picture taken yesterday.

 

We had a false alarm on Sunday, I had contractions coming on top of one another.  I went in to town to do some shopping and get my toes done.  While I was getting my feet done I had several irregular but strong contractions.  On the drive home they were still coming, I was almost in tears.  I was driving so I couldn't really time them, I was more concerned with getting home before I could no longer drive due to the pain.  I got home and they continued, about 2-3 minutes apart and strong lasting about a minute each.  I installed the car seat and finished packing my bag, Doc put TC to bed and we went to the hospital.  I would have stuck it out at home but we live a hour from the hospital, I am GBS+ so I need a short at least 4 hours before I deliver and TC's delivery was really fast.  If I was in labor I really wanted to be at the hospital.

I got there, they checked me and I was just where I was on Friday at my appointment.  I walked for an hour and made no change so we went home.  I really thought that was it, it hurt more than my contractions that made me go to the hospital with TC.  But here I am, still pregnant so obviously it was nothing.

My emotions are way out of control, I could cry over nothing these days.  I have an unhealthy love of brown sugar, I grab a pinch of it every time I go into the kitchen.  I even made a coffee cake from scratch this morning because I wanted the crumbly brown sugar bits.  Picking up TC and playing with her is getting harder and harder, luckily Doc has been pulled from all drop zone coverages until Christmas break.  He was nervous because many are about 2 hours away and he would have to wait for his replacement to get out there before he could even come back - that's 4 hours!  He's home more which is nice because then it's not just me and his dad and TC.

I know I have time, I am just hoping she is all cooked in there and decides to come out...today.  My mom called and was upset that I wont be updating when I'm in labor - I told her she can thank her 3rd born for that one.  She is bothering me to just tell her, I can't do that - everyone will know once she's here.  If I tell anyone in the family (mine or Doc's) I know I will be wondering if they are spreading the word. 

That's pretty much it.  I'm spent.  TC is having a day today and the pup decided to pee on her bath toys marking in the house for the first time ever.  If for no other reason I want to have the baby so I can have a nice stiff (well not really - that would knock me on my ass) drink. 

please don't call her that

I am obviously not an expert in child development or child psychology so feel free to take what I'm saying with a grain of salt.  I am not claiming to know the answers, I just have a few observations.

I am doing my best to let TC decide who she wants to be.  Right now she loves books but I'm catching myself every time I call her a book worm.  She really has no interest in toys and could sit with her books all day but I still want to expose her to as many different toys and things as possible.  I don't want to box her up so early in life.

When she's being a brat I try my best to ask her to stop acting bratty and not say "being a brat", I've called her my little monster before but that is when she's being cute and not being a monster at all.  I try to keep from labeling her ever, even if it's just on facebook where I know she can't see it, everyone else can.  I would hate to have a bad day and call her Teagan the Terrible and have it stick or for her to see it someday (we all know the internet lives on forever).  The only nicknames I want for her are just silly and not at all reflective of behavior. 

I've mentioned several times the issues I had growing up, how my stepmother made everything hard for me, well it still affects me today.  I felt like every embarrassing thing I did or mistake I made she was on the phone telling her sister or God only knows who else.  I had no privacy and was quickly labeled at emotional and snobby.  I wasn't either of these things but as time went on I became very emotional, mostly because I think that is what was expected of me.  The snobby part was only because I had been made very self conscious and in turn a quite kid. 

These are the reasons I am careful what I share about TC on FB and even here, when she's 13 how will she react to someone telling her they remember pictures of her on the potty and the announcement of her first potty poop?  Is it really necessary for everyone to know that she isn't ready for potty training and asks for her diaper or poops on the floor?  No, it's not and I know first hand that family will use these little tid bits later on in life thinking they are funny but really just to embarrass my daughter. 

I don't want to call her names, I don't want her behavior as a child to define her.  I know we will go through phases when I will be tempted to box her up but I'm going to do my best not to.  I'm trying to get Doc on board but he doesn't get it, he has no idea what it's like to be a girl and feel the need to please everyone.

I few weeks ago I mentioned that I hate cleaning in front of people, I have very detailed memories of my stepmother calling me Cinderella while I was doing my chores or when it was my turn to do the dishes.  Many times it was around people outside of the family (while we were camping during the summers, there were always people at our campsite) and everyone thought it was so funny. My face would change and then I would be the snob with no sense of humor.  She never did this to my siblings, hell they could get away without doing their chores and still be perfect.  I remember that pain, I am feeling that pain now just thinking about it.  I will never make my daughter feel like that, I will not put her down for my own sport.

I tell TC all the time that she has choices, she can chose how she acts and in turn chose the outcome.  (Exp "TC you can sit at the table and eat your berries or you can have no berries at all, it's your choice.)  I, as her mom, have choices too and I chose to raise my daughter knowing that when she wakes up everyday she makes the choice of who she wants to be.  Who she was yesterday is a thing of the past, what matters is what she decides for herself today.

50,000

My goodness, it's hard to blog when you have family around who don't know you blog (and you are trying to keep it that way).

Yesterday I was driving the long drive into town when I looked at my odometer and saw it, exactly 50,000 miles.  When I drove the car off the lot it had 17 miles and that included my test drive.  To truly understand why I love my car you have to understand where I'm coming from.


My first car was a 1988 Reliant K car, it was 1998 and I was 18 and a senior in high school.  The side were white and shiny but the top was dull and yellowish from what I guess to be 10 years of under tree parking.  At first it wouldn't go over 50 in the highway (which I am sure my dad was alright with) and after that was fixed I brought it with me to college.  One day while I was working at the mall the car decided to spill a very full tank of gas all over the parking garage.  No one knows why it happened, the guess is a computer error but it was a mess.  The fire department had to be called, no one around me was allowed to start their car, and when flushing the gas the fire alarms in the mall went off. 

From that car I got my ex-boyfriend's old car, a 1987 Pontiac Fiero, yup a black 2 seater.  Can I tell you how fun it is to drive a car like that during a New England winter?  I drove this car from January 2000 until July 2000.  This car had a radiator issue and the cab would fill up with anti freeze exhaust.  At least anti freeze smells good.  My dad followed me to the shop to have it fixed and when I could no longer see through the fog I opened my window and my dad said it was like an old Cheech & Chong movie with the amount of smoke that came out.  That car quit on a drive home from Boston, I had just spent $300 to have the water pump fixed it over heated and the head gasket head cracked.  Dead.

After that my mom gave me her 1986 Buick Skylark.  No real stories about this, it was just ugly and I drove it until it died in 2001. 

From there my stepfather gave me his 1985 5 speed Ford Escort hatchback.  At one point it had been red but by the time I had it it was orange.  I drove that all of junior year.  It was my first stick shift and I am so glad that I was able to learn to drive stick on it, it had a band new clutch so yay!  This is the car I was driving when I blew a tire and did a 540 spin on 295 in Rhode Island and ended up facing the wrong direction in morning rush hour traffic.  This car was ghetto fab, while it was a POS car it had a CD player with a remote!  I drove it until the wheels literally fell off.

Next up was my 1988 Mercury Cougar.  This black monstrosity was a beast.  I used enough gas to keep a small middle eastern country running.  It had rear wheel drive so it was another horrible car for New England winters, unlike the Fiero I couldn't just pick this car up and move it.   It was a tank, the doors weighted more than me and the radio didn't always work.  The good thing about the car?  I could fit like 12 girls in there.  I drove that from 2002-early 2004.  That is when it died for good in my work parking lot.

Next, and last before my current car, my 1992 Honda Accord - a car from the 90s!  I loved it.  A coworker had a "beater" to sell and it became my every day car.  $500 and a few hundred on repairs and I drove that car from 2004-2007.  That was the single best investment I have ever made.  It didn't always turn on right away but it always eventually started.  We drove away from our wedding in that car, we drove to our new home in NC in that car.  I kind of loved that car and was sad when I finally sold it.

So in 2007, when we bought me a 2007 Hyundai Santa Fe I felt like I was living a dream.  Finally a car that wasn't embarrassing to take through the drive thru, a car that started every time I turned it on, a car that Doc and I bought together.

Since then those 50,000 miles have taken me home to MA from NC for my sisters wedding.  From NC to GA to spend a week with my friend when her husband was KIA.  From MA to WA to our first real duty station after 2 years of training.  To and from 3 of Doc's deployments.  It was the first car TC ever rode in.  It brought Doc to the ER when he was having his initial TBI symptoms.  It brought is from WA to AZ to start a new chapter of our life.  Later this month it will be the first car our second daughter rides in.  I can't wait to see what the next 50,000 miles have in store.

Our newest addition, FIL that is

Doc, TC and I drove into Phoenix on friday to pick up his father.  The drive was long and boring and super uncomfortable (getting ready for #2 we've moved TC's car seat over and it's huge so to rear face the passenger seat needs to be way up) but the heated seats helped my back :).  About 2 hours into the drive I had a bit of a geek out when I saw a Dunkin Donuts sign, it was too late to stop but just knowing it's there, 2 hours away, is comforting. 

So far it's been smooth sailing having him here.  He sleeps in a lot which is fine, it's kind of like vacation for him.  Apparently the air here is much better than what he's used to back home so that's helping him sleep. 

It's a little awkward, Doc hasn't seen his father in 5 years and back then they weren't really speaking.  I wish they would just take an afternoon and get it all out but they are boys so that's not going to happen.  The good news is that he hasn't had a drink in 16 months and he's totally okay with me having my wine once the baby comes (priorities right?).  He also only smokes one or two cigarets a day which he does outside with a coat just for smoking that he leaves out there.  I would rather there be no smoking but it is what it is.  I haven't smelled smoke in my house so that's all I really care about. 

TC has really taken to him, she met him once when she was 4 months old but obviously she doesn't remember.  The other day he took her to the playground and she had no issues going with just him.  Yesterday Doc and I went to the hospital and left her home.  It was only for a few hours for his MRI and so I could preregister with L&D, she cried when we left but had a great time.  She did push her limits and was allowed to eat her breakfast in the living room with the TV on, but if grandpa can't give you special treats who can?  Obviously it has to be within limits but so far it's been perfect, he gave her a Hershey kiss at the company family Christmas party and it was like a fun little secret between them.  If he lets her play with knives I'll have a problem.

Christmas

I am beyond frustrated with Doc right now, he wanted to leave here at 11 so we could go to a mall in Phoenix (yea I'm going with him...) to get T's picture taken with a decent Santa.  I busted my ass getting everything done in time.  I vacuumed, swept, swiftered, hung curtains in the room his dad will be in...all sorts of crap.  He did help a bit, cleaned his nasty bathroom and bathed TC and Moses.  I hoped in the shower at 10 and was ready to go by 10:30, now he just wants to go straight to the airport this afternoon.

But I really want to have a positive post so here it is, my Christmas decor!  I wont be hanging lights outside this year because - well I'm 37 weeks pregnant but I like the inside.

This is the only area of that house that is really decorated, I don't like the couches but there really isn't any other way to do it without cutting off the view of the tree.

With the flash, the advent calendar is on the left and my coffee filter wreath is on the right.

Made out of coffee filters and a bow.

Some of my snowmen.  I need some tea lights for the candle holder.  I accidentally bought lights with a white wire for the tree but they look great in some fun glass jars.  The best part is this table is counter height so TC can't reach anything.

No flash.

And just for fun, here is my sweet little girl.  I had to wake her up yesterday so we could go to my OB appointment, it's so hard to do when she's so sweet.

someone must think I'm pretty strong

I try to believe that God does bring you more than you can handle.  I'm not going to lie, things are really hard right now.  Our family is struggling.  I'm not afraid for our marriage, not at all.  I know we can get through this as we have before and we will be stronger for it.  We're almost 2 years removed from Doc's accident and it is still ruling our lives, I would have never thought this would be us.

I know I've been doing a lot of complaining and I still feel that I have legit arguments.  He really needs to be more than a supporting player in this family if I'm pregnant or not.  This has been kind of like the perfect storm, his symptoms came back at the same time that I'm needing more help.  In the past I picked up his slack and never complained, he was injured after all.  At this point I am just unable to be that superwoman that the wives of the wounded are expected to be. 

I had a total breakdown last night.  The night before Doc and I were talking about the pregnancy and I told him that I 100% do not want another child because I got no help this pregnancy and I can't do that again.  He never said anything and just went to bed, yesterday he told me how horrible it was of me to say that because he's hurt and is in constant pain and uncomfortable...ummmm HELLO!  I haven't complained much to him about how horrible I feel and now I'm kicking myself for it.  He was still pissed off when he came home from work and just slept on the couch.  He didn't eat dinner with us, just came in and grabbed a plate.  That's when I lost it, I was sitting with TC as she ate (I had no appetite) and I just silently bawled.  TC was so sweet, she put her hand on my arm and offered me her last sweet potato fry.  After she was done and I had time to myself I questioned myself for having a second child with this man, what was I thinking?  Then it hit me, I wont be pregnant forever, he won't be in this injury limbo forever we just need to get through this right now.

After I was done with my pity party I joined Doc and TC in the living room. Doc started to talk to me a little, I guess trying get past this fight when he got a phone call.  The PA at work was going over his x-ray results (I thought it was his MRI results but he hasn't gotten those yet) on his x-ray they found a calcified lymph node.  These can be caused by swelling which he obviously had but it can also be caused by lymphoma.  He went over his x-rays today and is pretty freaked out, he is scheduled for an emergency MRI on Monday just to look at this he also needs to get blood work done and perhaps a biopsy.  After all of this it will probably need to be removed.  Because of it's placement they will most likely have to go through his throat and cut in that way.   

I don't really know what to do with all of this.  Biopsy's have never turned out well for people I love and since his sister died of cancer it's even more important that we know what's going on.

While I still want help from him when you start talking about cancer and surgeries things are really put into perspective. 

wat too much to do

Our Thanksgiving was pretty good, I managed to get everything done that I wanted and on schedule.  The turkey could have been better, I cooked it like I always do, made sure to keep an eye on the temp but even half way through the cooking I knew it wasn't going to be great, there were almost no juices.  It was a little dry but the worst part was the gravy, we LOVE pan gravy and while there was enough for dinner the leftovers had to be cut with store gravy.  Dinner was just Doc and me, TC messed up her nap schedule and slept right through it, it's alright though, she doesn't know the difference.  Here is my plate, I didn't have stuffing.

FYI sparking cider is yummy but not nearly as good as the real stuff.

What really put a damper on the day is that Doc didn't offer to help once.  Not on Wednesday while I was prepping and not during the 3 hours that I was in the kitchen Thursday morning.  Nothing, he even groned when I asked him to take the trash out.  I let it go, not worth ruining the holiday.

The next day I always get the tree up, I spent the morning in the sitting room moving couches around and cleaning , Doc played xBox in the other room knowing it would take him forever to get the decorations out for me I did it myself.  The tote of decorations I had to dig out of my once organized garage then I dragged the tree bag into the house.  There is no way that he didn't hear me and know what I was up to.  I set up the tree myself and wrestled with the lights, a prelit tree is great but figuring out what plug goes in where is not.  There is an entire section not lit so I am just going to buy a string of lights when I go into town.

So here we are, Tuesday afternoon.  I don't think I told you yet, my father in law is flying in on Friday and will be here until at least January 6.  I am not even thinking about what that is going to be like, right now I'm concentrated on what a mess my house is!  I wanted to try to get some deep cleaning done over the weekend but after pretending I was Christmas superman I could barely move on Saturday or Sunday.  Yesterday my back was alright but the rest of me felt like crap.  After dinner I asked Doc to unload the dishwasher (again) and he said that I always ask when he's too tired.  I reminded him that I ask him when he's tired, when he's awake, when he's happy, when he's sad, when he sober, when he's drunk and he never does it.  He thought he was funny when he said that my best bet is when he's drunk.  He said just leave it and he'll do it today.  He knows very well that I can't do that, I did leave it last night but the kitchen was cleaned this morning while I gave TC breakfast.

I vacuumed the living room today but I still need to sweep and wash the tile as well as the tile in the kitchen/sitting room.  I need to finish as the nursery since that will be FIL's room.  I need to go grocery shopping.  I would love to steam clean the couches again.  You know, the big clean you do before someone comes to stay with you (not to mention that we don't have a bed or mattresses for him yet).  I have the rest of today, tomorrow, and Thursday morning to get this done.  I have an OB appointment Thursday afternoon and I errands to run in town while I'm there.  And Friday, Doc wants me and TC to drive to Phoenix with him to get his dad.  Oh and Phoenix is 3 hours away, each way.  I think I am going to tell him that my doctor said I shouldn't go.  6 hours in the car at 37 weeks pregnant does not sound like fun and I am sure TC would rather be home.  I'm an ass, I say just get his dad a bus ticket - I would never expect anyone to take a 6 hour trip to pick me up from the airport.

Now it's time to dance with my broom for a few hours :(.

TBI almost 2 years later

I recapped Doc's TBI experience in my last blog, this is what life has been like since out move to Arizona. 

When we got here things were pretty good, his job was easy and he like most of the people he worked with.  Within 2 weeks there was talk about the E6 board, R@nger School, and taking the HALO course.  Obviously the promotion board is top priority so we were pretty excited about that.  R. school was pretty funny - he was supposed to go 4 years ago when we arrived in WA but they kept pushing him back for no reason.  It was a requirement for his E5 but he got around it after the command found out how many times he was passed over simply because they couldn't spare a good medic. HALO school would just be cool, it's a hard school to get into so of course he wants to go.

To do all of these things he knew he would need to get back down to his fighting weight.  The unfortunate part of weight gain caused by medicine is it doesn't always go away when you come off the pills.  He had 30lbs to lose and he was determined to do it.  He started off by jogging at night and working out on his own time and it was going well.  He knew what he needed to do and the pace that worked best for him. 

Everything started when the new guy in charge decided that everyone needed to workout together at 6AM.  Everyone also counted on Doc to provide the workouts, he likes cross fit style stuff so that's what he was doing, maxing out and keeping up with the other guys.  This is when things started to go down hill. 

It only took a few weeks of these early workouts and his attitude changed and we were back to where we were months ago.  He was short with me and TC, he started raising his voice again, his headaches came back, and his workouts suffered. 

I started asking what was going on with the promotion board and he kept changing the subject.  I was then trying to figure out when he would be going TDY for pre HALO school training and he said that he needed a MRI.  And Rgr school - I was hoping he could go around Feb or March because that is when it would be easiest to be alone with the 2 kids but he kept pushing back on that too. 

It was been a long few months of a crabby husband who refused to help out and me feeling put down and miserable.  It has been a daily struggle, he knows that his pain and issues are real but he refuses to admit that mine are - sorry but the last few months of pregnancy are hard! 

About a month ago he got a referral to a neurologist, after all this time he still hasn't had a MRI done on his neck or back even though those were hurt in the accident.  He has his MRI tomorrow so fingers crossed on that.  Then a few weeks ago he came home complaining about his profile - I don't know much about profiles but I know that he hates that he has to be on one.  He's on a P1 now which I think is almost normal, he could go on a P2 which would outline that his injuries are deployment related and on this he could go to the promotion board without passing his PT test.  He doesn't want this, he feels like it's an easy way out. 

The issue with his PT test (which I just learned about - apparently this is why he hasn't gone to the board and he didn't tell me because he's embarrassed) is his blood pressure spikes when he works out.  He has always been a PT rock star, the extra 30lbs obviously changed this is a bit.  The run was the easiest part for him, he's a fast MFer.  After that the situps were his next best followed by push ups.  Now he is kicking ass on the pushups and doing well on the situps but doing those things puts a lot of pressure on his head so when it comes time for the run he's disoriented and slow.  Unfortunately he can't do the run first, he has to do it in the order that the army sets. 

Now with all of these issues coming up again he's worried that he wont be able to reenlist, he is afraid that everything coming back up is just never going to get better.  It's so hard, we were back on track - everything was falling into place and we had it figured out but now who knows.  And I feel horrible because I can't help but want to punch him for pushing too hard.  Maybe if he eased back into it he would have been okay but he's an all out kind of guy. 

So that's it.  He's getting a little better at listening to me when I let him know that he's over reacting or if he's having an inappropriate response to something.  He's still not helpful around the house and he's short.  Add to this the uncertainty of our future and there are things a bit tense. 

Now is the time for me to get busy, I need to start back up on my research and see what his best options are for treatment.  I know this is what he wants to do so I am going to do everything I can to make sure he tries everything.  The Dr he works with said he was right a referral for HBOT so we just need to see if anyone will take him (I'll be contacting you soon Cheryl!)

Now that we're all on the same page I can get back to my usual blogging.

Doc's TBI, a recap

I tried twice to post something that was happy and not TBI related but I failed miserable both times.  I don't know if I really am ready to be back in this situation again so I'm trying to pretend it doesn't exist which isn't working out well.


Months back Doc got Botox injections in his neck to help with the swelling and relieve some of the pressure from his head.   That seemed to work really well but as any of A&E's housewives will tell you Botox isn't forever.  I think that wearing off in combination of him hitting the gym as hard as he has and whatever else he's dealing with has brought us back to were we were 7 months ago.

I have some new followers (hi, welcome!) so I will do a little recap of what his TBI has meant for us.  In January 2010 his vehicle rolled off of a cliff in Iraq.  He was knocked around and knocked out.  When he came to he was totally pinned down and on his head with the butt of one weapon in his face and the barrel of another staring him in the eyes.  Thank God he had his helmet on and that the owner of the second weapon had the safety on.  Most of his head injuries are a result of being hit directly in the face, it makes for a different type of injury.  He broke a bone in his cheek.  They wanted to airlift him right away but he talked them out of it, he was the only medic they had and didn't want them to scrap all of their missions until his replacement arrived.  He continued to run missions for the next few weeks until he hopped a flight home to be home while I delivered TC. 

Moments after he was removed from the vehicle, I am told the swelling got about 100 times worse.

The first issues were headaches and a stiff neck, they showed up a few weeks after he arrived home, we were told it's post concussive syndrome and should go away.  He also started to get very short with me, I didn't connect the dots on that right away.  Then he started to forget things, what he went the store to buy, his beret for work, and then it escalated to him getting disoriented and forgetting where he was or how he got there or even how to get home. Add the inability to get quality sleep to that.  Working out became impossible, the stiff neck and headaches were one thing but his blood pressure would spike to unhealthy numbers during every workout. 

He was prescribed a different pill for each issue.  He was taking about 12 pills a day on any given day.  Each pill had a side effect of weight gain.  He put on 30lbs in about 5-6 weeks, that did nothing to help his depression.  The TBI clinic at Ft. Lewis did their testing and dismissed him because his scores were still pretty high, Doc happens to be extremely bright - without a baseline it was impossible for the test to show anything.  (Thanks to this everyone in Doc's Battalion and maybe across the regiment now has a baseline on file for these tests)  He went to the TBI classes and was reprimanded for doodling during class (which has been proven to help students to retain information) and not participating in open discussions.  You can't really blame him, the class was full of people just trying to get out of the army while Doc was doing all he could to stay in.  His relationship with that clinic ended with the head doctor telling him that "he's seen worse" and basically just suck it up.  It wasn't until one of Doc's friends also who had been seen at the TBI clinic overdosed on the outdated drugs he was prescribed by said doctor and died.  Doc was on staff duty that night and was the one to find him and first to work on him, it was horrible and seeing that.  The next day the clinic, trying to cover their ass, called Doc to have him come in for his sever cognitive issues.  He was already receiving care elsewhere by then, it had been several months.

Doc worked with the PA for his battalion and neurology in the hospital.  But things didn't really get better.  He became depressed, developed social anxiety and became even harder to live with.  He couldn't handle shopping malls or stores during the holidays.  The loud music, bright colors, crowds were too stimulating.  He needed to shop only where things were organized and laid out exactly as he would need them.  This is around the time that we started seeing a counselor who works only with Special Operations guys at Lewis & McChord AFB.  That really helped.  We were in a state of limbo, not sure if we would have to leave the army or not. 

This all continued for months, there would be moments, even a few weeks where he was symptomless or hid it from me - it was almost like I had my old husband back.  When those periods were over it came back twice as bad.  Before the accident he never yelled at me, we argued like married folks do but he never raised his voice to me but the man who came home seemed to do it on a daily basis and to this days he still does it a few times a week.  I told myself I would never be with a man who treats me this way but what can you do when you know this isn't really who he is?

So fast forward to this past spring, a good 15 months since the accident.  He was finally getting involved with the care coalition (for wounded special operators), started getting PT and massages and finally the Botox injections.  It felt like we were finally being taken care of.  He was also on the waiting list for TBI treatment in Texas when the job here in AZ opened up.  He took himself off of the list so we could make the move here.  This job is such low stress and the hours are great for him.  We were hoping this would really give him a chance to fully recover. 

But here we are, once again trying to get a few steps ahead.  If you made it through all of that you deserve a sticker.  My next post will be about what's going on now.

back to this again

I'm feeling very sorry for myself today.  It seems that many of the TBI issues that we thought were gone are coming back.  I should have seen it coming but I kept making excuses for his behavior - honestly I didn't want to even say it to myself.  I will get more into it in the upcoming weeks but today I am missing this guy.

San Antonio May 2006 while in AIT

love hate relationship with facebook

Facebook is great for seeing what people are up to or reconnecting with people from your past.  As someone who lives over 3000 miles from home it gives me an easy way to stay connected to family and share my kids with them.  And it's a great time suck when you are procrastinating.  I think we all know it's not all good.

Last December things started going downhill with my grandmother.  I posted about it here.  Since then she hasn't been doing well, her dementia has her confusing her visitors and even forgetting that my dad and aunt have died.  It's horrible to say but I am glad to not see her this way.  As much as I wish I could be there to hold her hand and let her call me John if she wants I have the memory of a perfect last visit with her.

This morning I was actually being productive while TC was down for her nap.  I sat down to check FB and I saw this post from my uncle's wife (she's never really been an "aunt"):

Isn't that how everyone hopes to hear that their grandmother is a week or so from death?  And the "yikes what a day" was the cherry on the pie, sorry that YOU are having a bad day but this is my grandmother we are talking about. 

I immediately got on the phone with my sister D and ask if she knows anything and tell her about the FB post.  I felt horrible bringing her down from the excitement of last night.  She had no idea and decided to call the uncle in charge of Gram's care.  This is one of the most soft spoken men you could ever meet, every thing he says is well thought out and to the point.  His reaction is "that fucking bitch, I hope she gets run over by a fucking truck".  He was planning on making calls this afternoon after Gram is situated and he's had a chance to process everything.

After I spoke to D I called my sister M and told her and she said she would call my stepmother's family (who loves my Gram like she was one of theirs) and some other people.  All the while I am a bawling mess, my poor sisters don't know what to do with me, I'm so far away and I can't travel so late in my pregnancy.  When we enter military life we know that we will be moving away, missing weddings, births, all sorts of things.  The happy occasions suck to miss but I can deal, this is the hardest thing I will miss.  I can't believe I wont be at my grandmother's funeral.  After deployments this is the second hardest thing about this life.

The FB offender did offer a single sentence apology message saying she didn't know we didn't know.  I will be deleting her soon but I want to leave my comment up on her page, my maiden name in on my FB so all her friends will see what an asshole she is for posting before everyone in the family knew.  Will it change what happened?  Nope, but nothing will change that.

The worst part is that I am feeling more angry than sad right now, I wish I could just have the regular range of emotions because now I have to wait for the sadness to really hit and I will be a bawling mess all over again.

The moral of today's story - better safe than sorry with facebook.

I promised I wouldn't tell...

...but you guys wont tell anyone (I'm looking at you Amanda, the only one who really knows her).  My sister just called and she's pregnant!  They've been trying for around 6 months and getting really discouraged.  She called me on her way home from work and told me that she was going to test tonight - yay! 

She is telling her in-laws tonight since they live in the same town.  She said she was telling his family on Thanksgiving and might wait until the week before Christmas to tell our family.  I reminded her that things don't go over well when our family is kept in the dark (referencing the drama she started when TC was born)... I feel bad because she can't wait the 12+ weeks most people like to wait because she takes dental x-rays at work so everyone at work will know as soon as she stops doing those.  If everyone at work knows it sucks to not be able to tell your family.

So here is hoping for a sticky baby and a new niece or nephew for me come the end of July!

getting there

First I want to say thank you for all of the support after my last post.  I went back and forth about mentioning it at all, I know there are people who are in the "don't air your dirty laundry" camp but obviously I am not one of them.  You all gave such great advice.

I'm not sure if he sensed something or if he *gasp* read my blog (which he has my support if he ever chooses to do so) but he came up to me on Sunday evening as I was cooking dinner asked what was wrong so I gave him the abridged version of what I wrote.  Since his injury I can't really come at him with a lot of information at once so if I break things up there is a much better chance that he'll retain what I'm saying without feeling attacked.  After dinner he gathered the dishes and loaded them in teh dishwasher. 

Let's face it, this is a huge ego thing for both of us.  For him, he's the man and for me I'm a college educated former marketing wiz.  The idea of rubber gloves and mops doesn't appeal to either of us.  I even hate doing my normal vacuuming and stuff while he's home because it makes me feel beneath him.  There is no reason for that I just can't get over it. 

Yesterday he was picking on me for being pissy and while he thinks it's just harmless joking I told him that to me it feels like he's just picking me apart.  I am sure I am over reacting a little because I'm a giant whale who can't bend over to pick up a sock with out getting winded but I can't help it.  Once we put TC down for her nap I got out the dust rags and got started in the living room.  He wasn't 100% helpful but he did put away all of the xBox stuff we that he had laying around.  He got to see just how much goes into a basic cleaning of the living room/toy room.  With a dog who is STILL shedding his Washington coat for Arizona weather  everything needs to be dusted, the tiles swept then vacuumed, the area rug vacuumed (which takes 4 runs with the vacuum because it's 4 years old and even if I do it every other day it's covered in dog hair), TC's toys washed and organized (and weeded - if she hasn't played with it in a while it's gone).  It's about a 90 job and that's without cleaning the windows or washing the floor.  We've decided to get a Dyson with our tax return, I am far too excited for this.

As for what he does, he's always done his own laundry mostly because he and I don't get dressed in the same area, he has his own bathroom and in our last house his closet was in the office.  He leaves his clothes all over the floor dirty and clean alike so I never know what is what.  If I'm doing laundry I'll ask if he has anything to toss in but unless it's in my hamper I don't wash it on my own.  I've told him he's more than welcome to toss his clothes into my hamper to be washed but he doesn't.  He's never washed diapers, he cleans them when he changes her but as for actually washing them, nope.  He tried to object when I told him to remove the liners before putting them in the pail but quickly saw why it made it easier for me.  Yesterday I did let his dishes collect on the counter before I pointed them all out as I was putting them in the dishwasher.  I can't leave them out overnight, we've seen a few giant roaches in the house without leaving food out, I don't want to invite them in!  He didn't even realize that he left them out and apologized.  Oh, and as much as he thinks I should make him lunch I never do.

It may be a slow process but I think it will get better.  I don't want to not cook for him because that would be a punishment to myself because I love cooking and having dinner as a family.  I could withhold sex but honestly at this point that's not an issue, I'm so fat and gross he's lucky I let him sleep in the same room as me.  But without the pregnancy, I've never wanted to use sex as punishment or reward, not that I feel like there is anything wrong if that's what works for others but for me I like to keep as many problems as possible out of the bedroom.  I think we all know that when I man helps out we can't help but be more attracted to him and well...you know.

So that's where we are, I will get started on the clutter if for no other reason than I want to have that space for my Christmas decorations.  And when I say clutter it's not hoarders bad it's some magazines I might not ever read, some papers to be files, so disposable diapers we had out for our trip to the zoo, maybe a few random socks all piled up.  I'll take before, after, and decorated pictures (motivation).  Perhaps I need to get pinning on Pinterest for some easy organization...

defeated

I could just cry.  I don't know what else to do, I have told him countless times that I need help.  We talked about it in counseling before we moved that I would need help.  I brought it up last night, I need help.  I know that playing video games is more fun than cleaning, I know everything is more fun than cleaning but it needs to be done.  I know it's easy when you don't have to be the primary caretaker for the kid - you get the snuggles and love without preparing the meals or being the bad guy.

I've tried "striking" but then things just get left undone.  I've tried bribing him but I just get a half assed job and an expectation of a reward the next time I ask.  I've cried, I've begged, I've waddled around him while I cleaned.  I've yelled, I've reasoned but in the end it's all on me. 

I know you are probably reading this thinking as a stay at home mom it's my job to keep the house and cook the food or that I knew what I was getting into or even that you wouldn't put up with it.  Well, Doc currently works around 25 hours a week, we are lucky with this job and it's the slow period right now.  He has more down time at home which also means more time to contribute to the mess and more demands on me (I don't know where he ever got the idea that I would be making him lunch).  As for knowing what I was getting into, he wasn't always like this and before we had a kid the house wasn't nearly as hard to keep clean.  He's progressively gotten worse.  And finally, not putting up with it - what should I do pack my bags and leave the man I love because he won't help around the house as if that trumps all of the amazing things about him?

It comes down to me just not knowing what to do other than suck it up and do it myself.  I just spent 2 hours cleaning floors and scrubbing chairs and that was just in the kitchen/dining/sitting room area.  I still need to finish washing the floor and the counters need a major decluttering.  I can't ever get to the clutter because, like now, I am beyond exhausted from what I just did. 

This morning was a new low, he woke up early and was up when TC woke up so that was nice but when I got up their cereal bowls were on the counter, instead of taking the trash out he just started another bag next to the trash can (that was a new one) and something in there leaked so I had to clean that up too.  The dishwasher was open because he had to get a bowl but all the other dishes were still in there.  All of this after last night when specifically asking him to help me.  I just don't understand why it is so hard so pitch in even a small amount.

If it was in the budget I would hire someone to come and help but it's just not.  I can't spend more than a hour or so cleaning until my contractions start and by the time I'm ready to start again I have to redo everything I just cleaned.  There really is no other word but defeated.

Someday...

This week the reenlistment officer was on post, Doc spoke to him about his options.  He's up to reenlist in February and there is no question this time - he's doing it.  He has his eyes on the prize, PA school and a happy retirement one day.  We did get some good news, he can re up for 5 years guaranteed to stay in JSOC (joint special operations command) and get a nice bonus to boot.  The JSOC contingency is huge, since Doc is such a highly trained medic (he did the regular medic training plus an extended trauma training) and has more combat experience than most it isn't unheard of for some deploying unit to try and scoop guys like him up.  It's not that he's a Special Ops snob but they do things a lot differently than conventional units and if he's going to deploy again (like he would love) he wants to do it with his brothers.

So we are blessed, things seem to be coming together.  Once he finishes PA school - down the road - the odds of going straight back to a Special Ops unit aren't great but that is something that we are ready for. 

When this new contract is up Doc will have 11 years in which means we are lifers.  May as well to at least 20 and get a nice retirement. 

We decided a while ago that the first house we buy will be the last house we buy and it will be our forever home in New England.  We were day dreaming about it yesterday, I picture something like this:

from http://www.freegreen.com/green-home-build-story-needham-ma-house/image.axd?picture=Final+Glazer+Photo.jpg

We would like to live in a Boston suburb so Doc can work in the city and it will be an easy ride into the Garden when he has his Bruins season tickets.  I just want big windows and mature trees so I can enjoy the fall.  I want a nice front porch with a tin roof so I can listen to the rain ping off.  After years of cramming myself in a tiny tub I want a big soaking tub.  We want a yard and maybe a pool, a hot tub for sure.  A place for me to craft and paint, a place for the kids to hang out, they will be in high school/college and I would love for our house to be the house they choose to hang out in - maybe a game room over the garage.  If you know anything about Boston real estate you know we will also need $1-2 million dollars but who knows, maybe some day.

11-11 and every day

Thankful doesn't begin to say it.  I never fully understood until I became an army wife, I still can't imagine walking a mile in my husband's boots.

An out of focus picture of a soldier returning home from his first deployment and a wife who didn't want to let go. (2008)

getting there

It's official, I'm uncomfortable.  But this means that I am almost done so yay.  The insomnia has kicked in too, I am waking up around 4:30 to pee and that's it for the day.  I've gone back to a cup of tea in the morning and that seems to help.  Baths are my favorite place, I don't feel so heavy in the water.

It's crazy to think that this is the last time I will do this.  I know Doc would like another but I'm good.  And once I really am done I will have 2 kids to not screw up.

TC has no idea still.  She knows my belly is bigger now but nothing else.  I've tried to get her to feel the movement or even just watch it but she still doesn't care.  She is weird though, she pushes her table around the living room then gets a chair to sit in, the last few months she's been bringing both chairs over, maybe she's waiting for her sister (or maybe she has a paranormal activity type of imaginary friend who wants to kill us all).

I figure that by late January I should be a good mom again.  By then I will have somewhat of a schedule down with the new one and a fairly regular sleep schedule.  TC will finally get her mom back - I can't wait to have the energy I need to truly engage her again.  Until then I will take our snuggles and down time and cherish these last weeks with her as an only child.

This morning she crawled on the couch and rested her head on my belly, it was a perfect moment.