Ten Things I Love About Fall

1. School starts!! ( or, the kids go away for a few hours!)

2. Soccer

3. Jacket weather
4. Beautiful Foliage

5. Pumpkin patch

6. Apple orchard7. Putting out the fall/Halloween decorations


8. Carving a jack-o-lantern

9. Halloween costumes

10. Family time outdoors



This post is part of Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop- prompt#5 - Ten reasons why you are glad it's fall.

Our Newest Family Member

My husband has been trying to talk me into getting a dog since we got married ( 12 years ago). It isn't that I don't like dogs, there has just always been a reason NOT to get one. At first, we lived overseas and didn't know how often we would move. Dogs don't handle overseas flights and moving often as well as cats, so we got a cat.

Then, when we moved back State-side, we lived in base housing with a backyard the size of a matchbox. Okay, not really, but it was really small with no grass- they just poured cement for a patio and fenced around the patio. That was it. Behind the fence was the parking lot, so there was nowhere for the dog to run and play.

Then, when we realized the military didn't plan on moving us from here, we bought a house- with a back yard. But Noah was eighteen months old and I was being selfish and didn't want to have to take care of and clean up after a dog AND a needy baby.

About the time Noah was old enough to not require so much work, we had Zoe and then a repeat of the above paragraph.

Now, Zoe is three-years-old and in preschool. Our neighbors just got a puppy about a month ago and my husband and both of my children love her. They talk about her all the time and like to go over there and play with her. I knew it was coming. My husband started about a dog again. There is also the fact that he will deploy in the winter and be gone for four months. I really would feel safer with an extra set of ears in the house while he is gone. But, I just got my "baby" out the door to preschool and I was adamant that I did NOT want a puppy. They're cute, but I was in no mood to have another thing that whines in the night, tears up things around the house and needs to be potty trained/house-broken.

The compromise was to adopt an adult dog. I liked the idea of rescuing a dog that someone else had given up anyway. My husband had boxers growing up and really wanted one of them, so we decided to go through our local boxer rescue program. We filled out the paperwork, had someone come do a home visit to approve us, our home and our yard to adopt a dog. We were approved and had already found a dog in the online gallery that we thought would be a good fit. Most of the dogs were recommended for children 12 and older but this one said for children three and older. We made an appointment to go meet her this past weekend and drove two hours to meet her. We fell in love and she seemed to love us, so we brought her home with us.

Once we got home, she jumped out of the car and ran the perimeter of our yard and then started hopping and bouncing around like she wanted to play. We threw a ball and she brought it back to us. We asked her to "drop it" and she did. We told her to "sit" and she did. She's a really good dog and has already attached herself to the kids. She gets very excited when they come home from school. She doesn't jump up on people, she just wags her entire butt and licks them to death. She also doesn't get on the furniture.

At bedtime Sunday night, we weren't sure where she was used to sleeping and had showed her the bed in the corner of the family room. She sniffed the bed and came and laid down at my feet while we were watching television, so I suggested we take her dog bed in our room and maybe she would sleep in there. But, we turned off the television and the light and she got up, grabbed her toy and went and curled up on her bed in the corner of the family room and went to sleep. Wow. We didn't hear a peep out of her until the next morning when my alarm went off and I heard her get up and come down the hallway. She peeked into our room a little hesitant and then just came on in and greeted us.

I think we got lucky. This is an awesome dog. She is such a sweetie. So, without further ado, I want to introduce you to Lindy- our 5-year-old new addition to our family:




This is being linked to Wordful Wednesday at Parenting by Dummies.

Can You See Me Now?

It's that time of year! Soccer season. Noah got his uniform on Saturday ( just before his first game) and I was blinded by the glow factor. As we pulled up to the fields, I saw all the other kids running around in their adorable little red, orange, blue or yellow uniforms and then I saw my son was the green team. Not the normal, crayon box green team... the Nickelodeon slime, nuclear meltdown green team.



Umm.. yeah. They named their team The Green Machine and I am pretty sure I declared at some point that I had never seen a more brightly colored uniform in all my life.

Well this is what I get for making such a dramatic statement- because, early this week when we showed up to Zoe's practice, THIS was waiting for us.



I stand corrected. And they need a team name. Any ideas?

This is being linked to Wordful Wednesday which Dumb Mom is now hosting at Parenting By Dummies.

How to Drive Mommy Crazy Before 1pm or All in a Day's Work

When I read Mama Kat's list of prompts and saw prompt #2: "Tell us about a day you were sure you wouldn't get through.", several things popped into my mind. Most of them serious and since my last few Writer's Workshop posts have been all serious, I felt I needed funny. And then I was brought back to a particular day I really thought would never end. Of course I already blogged about it, but since the beginning of the school year/soccer season has really made me hit the ground running with little time for much else, I thought this was the perfect time to revisit an old post.

Picture it: a small house in the Jersey woods, occupied by an awesome mom who never ever loses her cool, two children- a six-year-old and a two-year-old just trying to get through the dog days of summer. It was back in August 2009 and my daughter felt I needed to earn my keep (while simultaneously losing my sanity) around the house.

Here is how today has gone so far:

Noah was in the bathroom doing his business when he yelled at me that Zoe had taken the little insert out of her potty and thrown it in the big toilet WHILE he was peeing, then got it out with pee in it and dumped it all over the floor.( I figured I would spare you and not take a photo of this) I cleaned the little potty, the toilet and mopped the bathroom floor up. As I was walking from the bathroom into the laundry room to put the washcloth I used and the bathroom rug in the washer I encountered this in the kitchen:


I had previously folded laundry and left it in the basket and Zoe had gone through the basket and picked out my underwear and put them on! There was a nice mess in the living room from the laundry basket too. I finished putting the rug and a load of towels in the washer and went into the living room to re-fold the clothes and put them back in the laundry basket. I did wonder what that was on her face, but she's a messy kid so I brushed it aside.

Meanwhile, Noah yelled at me from his room that Zoe was up on his bed and wouldn't get down. Noah has a loft bed and I am afraid Zoe will fall off it, so I went in his room to get her down. As I picked her up, I felt something like rocks in her diaper. I had no clue what it was, so I decided to inspect and found this:

That is leftover Easter candy that I had put up in a drawer in my room. This meant Zoe had been in my room and I suspected she had eaten some of the candy explaining what was on her mouth earlier ( chocolate). I guess she decided to stash a few pieces in case I took it away from her.

So.. I decided I need to go inspect my room and found this:

Notice the partial wrapper off to the side. That would be because my little billy goat was eating them with the wrappers ON them..... I also found this in my bed:

I had to change my sheets on my bed because there were drooly chocolate stains all over them. As I was heading to the laundry room again, I found this lying in the hallway:

That would be a catalog that she had torn and EATEN the edge off of. I picked it up and went to put it back in the magazine rack and now we'd gone full circle because I found Zoe in the laundry again



And when the last picture was taken, it was only one o'clock.

**NOTE: It took me awhile to post this because I was playing referee between Zoe and Noah. As I was completing the upload of pictures, I realized it had been really quiet and got nervous. I went to find Zoe to see what she was into this time. I couldn't find her anywhere in the house. I started getting nervous and then I walked into her room ( the one place she doesn't go because she is ALLOWED in there!) to find this:

She climbed in her crib by herself and went to sleep. I guess she had a busy morning and needed to recharge her batteries to wreak havoc this afternoon. (and note the tiny bit of hot pink you can see around her left leg... that's my underwear again)

Confessions from the Day I Couldn't Be Optimistic

For the most part I like to view life with the philosophy of "It's good to be alive." But sometimes I get caught up in the little things and I can't push it away. It's really been bothering me lately and I thought I would use this as my way to get it out. If you aren't in the mood for "woe is me" then move on now.

Still here? Wow.

I feel like I've had to put my life on hold for the good of the military. My current situation makes it so that I am unable to work. I am unable to get my master's degree and unable to DO anything that makes me feel like I am more than just someone's wife and mother. A military spouse. And frankly, some days I just want to kick Uncle Sam in his star-spangled nuts.

When we first arrived at our current post ( umm... TEN YEARS AGO) I worked full time. We had no children making it much easier, but there were still problems that popped up reminding me that I was in a different world than my co-workers. For example, we lived in base housing at the time and when something needed repair, we were slave to the military's whim and schedule. If my husband was deployed (which he often was from 2001-2003) it was my responsibility to be home for the repairmen. My employer had a hard time understanding when I would say, " The heat is broken again and they are coming to repair it tomorrow- sometime between 7:30 am and 4:30 pm. So, if they show up early, I will come in to work after they leave. But if they don't show up until four o'clock, I obviously can't make it."

Yes, they really gave us windows like that- "We'll be there sometime between 7:30 and 16:30 Tuesday." Our housing was built in the 1950's and therefore frequently needed repair much to the chagrin of my employer who only had experience with the civilian world and being able to schedule repair on evenings or weekends.

Another thing my employer frequently did not understand, was snow days. If it would snow five or six inches, work would still begin at normal time. Reason being that we are equipped to handle that kind of snow in this state and roads were continuously plowed and treated overnight and people could get in to work. But, living on an air force base means that the mission is the priority. The runways and major roads on base were the first things to be plowed. Housing was very low on the priority list. Usually, they base would delay opening time to around 10:30 to give the plows time to dig out the housing residents and for them to report to work. Now, six inches isn't much of a big deal, I can shovel that from the sidewalk and shovel out my car, but I cannot shovel a path out of the entire parking lot and down the road. So, I was stuck until a plow came by. And my employer had a hard time with that as well.

The lack of understanding was not just one-sided. The military didn't seem to understand or care about those spouses that worked full time off base either. We had a rule that on recycle and trash days, the bins were supposed to be in from the curb by 17:00 ( that's five p.m.). Trouble was I got off work at five and didn't get home until almost six p.m. I cannot tell you how many times I got written up for my bin still being on the curb. I kept telling them that my husband was deployed and I didn't get home until six. The response I got was that rules were rules and others didn't seem to have a problem with this. Finally, my neighbor took pity on me and she started moving my bins in for me.

Once while my husband was deployed ( and you know things ALWAYS happen when they are gone) my military ID went missing. I always put it in my center console in the car and one day it wasn't there. (about a year later when my husband was running a wire for the radio and pulled out the console, he found the ID.. it had slipped in the crack between the inside of the console and fallen underneath it). So, I'm sitting at the gate into housing at six p.m. after a long day of work and can't find my ID. The guard won't budge and let me on. So, I called my neighbor and she came and escorted me on. Well, the pass and ID office of course closes at 4:30, so that meant that I was going to have to get a new one the next day when they opened at 7:30. If I planned it just right, I could get right in ( yeah, right!) get my ID and get to work by 8:30 when I was supposed to be there. I warned my boss I might be " a little late", left early the next morning, had a friend take me to pass and ID ( you know because I couldn't get on the main base without an ID) where I was promptly told that I cannot get an ID on my own. The active duty military member had to be present with me. Umm... he's in freakin' Afghanistan... don't think he'll be making it in here today. They wouldn't budge. I left, crying and drove to work. That afternoon, I had someone meet me again at the gate so I could freaking get into housing and GO TO MY HOUSE. I was relaying this to another neighbor whose husband was a Master Sergeant in my husband's squadron and although he was not my husband's supervisor, he accompanied me to the office the next morning, told them he was my husband's supervisor and was able to "escort" me to get a new ID. Thank God for awesome military friends ( and their husbands).

So, yes, these are just a few of the problems I had as a working woman. When the kids were born, we realized I would have to stay at home with them. We have no family nearby to help out with childcare and regular childcare at daycare centers just cost too much. I would be working to pay for their child care and not much more. Add in the gas to drive to and from work, we would break even. So, we decided I would stay home.

And now that both of them are in school, I have free time, but not enough of it to work. Office jobs would be a long drive. In the immediate area there are mainly retail-type jobs. And retail requires weekends and evenings, neither of which I can do because of my husband's job and hours. Honestly who is going to hire someone that says, " I can't work weekends, or evenings, or school holidays, or if one of the kids is sick. I can work weekdays during the day, though, but I can't make it to work until around 9:30 after school drop-off and I would have to leave no later than 2:50 for school pickup. Oh, yeah, and once a month, I have to volunteer at my daughter's preschool which is mandatory for using their preschool program. Did I mention that I would need to leave early on the days the kids get out of school early? And don't forget, I can't work during the summer, only during the schoolyear." ?

Ummm, yeah... nobody.

Do y'all remember that last January I started working on my Master's degree? Well, I didn't particularly like the school I was going through and it turned out to be really bad timing. I did well in my classes, but at the expense of spending quality time with my daughter. I ended up having to park her in front of cartoons on more days than I care to mention so I could study. I didn't want that, so after I completed that term, I withdrew, thinking I could revisit the idea this fall when Zoe started preschool. Except for the fact that the program for military spouses that was funding my venture was canceled. So, now I am back at square one.

If I were still local to the area where I am from, I could be teaching school and earn my master's from my alma mater for a lot less money than it would cost me here. I would have family to fall back on when something came up- and I had work/school. I could have a life.

I know, I CHOSE to marry a military man. I did. And I wouldn't change that, but I still feel sorry for myself every once in awhile. I still feel sometimes like the families of military members make greater sacrifices than the members themselves. It's hard and it's thankless. And I'm not asking for pity, or sympathy. I don't want a medal or for you to tell me how brave/selfless/appreciated I am. Because I'm none of those things. I'm a person that just deals with the situation placed before her, just like anyone else would do. I'm a person that for the most part loves my life and would still choose the same path if I had it to do over again. I am a person that tries as best she can to be a supportive wife and mother and to wear many hats at one time. I am a person that laments the fact that my children don't know their cousins or their grandparents very well. I am a person that tries to make the family bond tight in our little family, because we are all we have. I am a person that sometimes feels a little sorry for herself. But tomorrow, I will wake up, having cleansed this from my soul and I will put on my stay-at-home mommy hat, give it my own little personal touch (adding a little pom pom fringe because I'm weird like that)...

... and I will smile and go out in the world.

Because I am a military spouse and I persevere.

(and doggone it, people like me!- channeling Jack Handy** from SNL because as I typed that last line, I couldn't help but think of it)

** my husband totally called me out on this- it's Stuart Smalley, NOT Jack Handy. I knew that, I don't know what I was thinking. Apparently I'm losing my memory on top of everything else.

The Backseat Driver

Zoe starting preschool is reminding me of loads of Noah-in-preschool stories that I feel I need to record. I didn't have this blog when Noah was in preschool, so a lot of things have gone undocumented. And Noah requires documentation. This is perhaps my favorite Noah preschool story of all:

When Noah was three, I arrived to pick him up from preschool one afternoon only to be met by the family worker. She had been standing around his classroom waiting for me so she could share this story. Apparently, earlier that day, she had gone in the classroom and was playing a pretend game with the kids. She arranged some chairs in a line and announced that she was driving a bus to the zoo and if anyone wanted to ride along to the zoo, they should get in. Some children sat in the chairs- including Noah- and went along for the pretend ride.

As they were "driving" she was encouraging their imaginations by asking them to discuss what they might see outside or talk about where they were going. Noah interrupted to inquire as to which zoo they would be visiting.

"Umm, Philadelphia. Yes, the Philadelphia Zoo.", the family worker responded. He was satisfied with that answer and continued his imaginary ride in silence. The family worker continued her running commentary on their trip and once again Noah interrupted to ask:

"Are we taking the Ben Franklin or the Walt Whitman [bridge]?"

"Well, I guess we are taking the..."

"...because I want to take the Walt Whitman Bridge!"

" Okay, Noah, we are taking the Walt Whitman Bridge."

I am sure at this point, she was sorry she had embarked on this little trip with Miss Daisy in the backseat bossing her around, but God bless her, she continued nonetheless.

Family Worker: " Now, we are driving over the Walt Whitman Bridge, everyone look out the window and tell me what you see." (hoping to hear them talk about the water, boats, the city or even the zoo)

No one got to answer because Noah interjected, " IKEA! I see IKEA!! Can we go there instead?"

He was right, you can see IKEA from the Walt Whitman Bridge and he totally hijacked the imaginary bus of three-year-olds heading on their imaginary field trip to the Philadelphia Zoo.

Because, you know, Swedish flat-packed furniture and meatballs are WAY more important and interesting than stupid animals.

Priorities.

Freedom

F- fighting for change- sometimes you have to step up; fighting to protect- be aware that so many have stepped up and are willing to pay the ultimate price for it; family sacrifice- the wives, husbands, mothers, fathers and children of soldiers ; feeling safe

R- realization that all, regardless of race, religion, ethnicity or nationality are the same- human, respect- having enough of it for oneself to be true and confident and having enough for others to allow them to be themselves and love them for who they are.

E- everyone deserves it, but not everyone has it; empathy for others and their plight and the courage to help mankind; education = empowerment- teach our children the lessons we have learned so that history does not repeat itself

E- election, as in the freedom to have one and the ability to change what you don't like; establishment- for good or bad and knowing the difference in the two

D- don't turn a blind eye, dangerous-if taken too literally, our freedom does not infringe on others' freedom, diversity- we can all be different and yet co-exist peacefully

O- opinion- being allowed to voice it freely without repercussions; openess- without restraint; obligation- to guard and protect it; lack of oppression- from the Afghan wife that feels so hopeless that she must set herself on fire to free herself from oppression to the neglected child who didn't ask to be brought into the world, and yet sits, alone and ignored

M- military- the heroes that volunteer and answer the call of duty; menial- to someone who has always had it, mighty- to someone who has just received it, mythical- to someone who has no hope of ever enjoying it.

What does freedom mean to you?

It's Time for School to Start (I'm an Awesome Mom)

School starts here on Tuesday. Apparently, not too soon, because just today I surpassed my summer tolerance level.

First a little backstory: My husband works twelve hour shifts, from seven p.m to seven a.m. Therefore, he sleeps during the day and I have to try and keep the kids from waking him up. We live in a 1200 square foot one-level home, so it isn't always an easy task. And, yes, I do take them out of the house, but it just isn't realistic to take them somewhere every day, I have stuff I have to do around the house too.

Today I had an errand I had to run and I managed to get the kids fed and dressed, but when I went to get dressed, it all fell apart. I am not a high maintenance person. It normally takes me ten to fifteen minutes to get ready. Today it took me three hours. Seriously. Every time I went in the bathroom to get ready, someone was screaming/fighting/yelling/knocking on the door/insisting they were hungry right now/insisting they had to use the bathroom right now. We also only have one bathroom. I kept having to shush them and appease them and explain over and over (AND OVER) again that their father was very tired and sleeping and could they PLEASE NOT STAND RIGHT OUTSIDE THE BEDROOM DOOR AND YELL AND SCREAM!??

So... my blood pressure was rising and my tolerance level was lowering.

Finally, I turned the television on childrens' shows, hoped it would occupy them for a few minutes and headed back to the bathroom to finish getting ready. Less than five minutes later, I heard screaming again. From both children. Right outside the bathroom door (which is six inches to the right of our bedroom door). I opened the door and the two of them were in the hallway right outside the door rolling around and fighting.

I grabbed Zoe's hand, dragged her in her room, hissed through gritted teeth, " TIME OUT- DON'T COME OUT UNTIL I TELL YOU!!!" and shut her door only to hear her (of course) collapse in a fit. I then turned to Noah who was staring smugly at me like he thought only Zoe was getting into trouble, grabbed his hand and dragged him to the living room, opened the front door and shoved him outside. This time hissing through gritted teeth, " IT IS A BEAUTIFUL DAY OUTSIDE, GO OUTSIDE ALREADY!!!". He stared back at me with wide eyes and then pouted and stomped off.

I finished getting ready in the bathroom and was walking around the living room and kitchen packing the diaper bag and I kept seeing Noah staring through the glass storm door at me. I must have still had an angry look on my face because he kept walking away. A few minutes later, I heard the front door open and I glared around the corner at him and he said, "Mommy, can I please get my shoes now?"

Ooops. I'm sure shoes would help.

And I'm wondering when my Awesome Parenting Award will arrive in the mail.

Leap of Faith

She stood before the merry-go-round wracked with indecision. Everyone was laughing and having so much fun, but it was going so quickly. She wanted to be a part of the fun, but couldn't quite work up the courage to take that leap.

They stuck their hand out to her, encouraging her to grab hold and jump. After much calculation and a final realization she would just have to trust and leap, she was on. Spinning, spinning, the world whizzing by in a big blur. It was so much fun. She was laughing too and couldn't remember why she was scared in the first place.

She stood among the mess her life had become. Everything that had been so promising and positive had fallen apart all at once. She watched as it all began to spin around her. Dizzying, sickening, it was all just spiraling out of control and she couldn't gain solid ground. In the whirlwind of blurry images before her, he suddenly appeared with a soft, loving face, his hand outstretched toward her. She hesitated and he said, "Just trust me. Grab my hand and leap." And she did. And she couldn't remember why she was ever scared in the first place.

They were enjoying the ride, but felt something was missing and that was when they saw him. They grabbed his tiny outstretched hand and pulled him in. It created a temporary imbalance. They had to adjust and then they couldn't imagine what it was like before he came on board. It was so much fun, they couldn't remember why they were ever scared in the first place.

Then, she appeared. The persistent free spirit that insisted on being a part of their game. Mesmerized by her beauty, they pulled her in. She wavered and they thought, briefly, she might fall. They hoped and prayed and begged her to just trust them, they would take care of her if she would just leap. She did and they became a family of four. And they laughed and loved and played and couldn't remember why they were ever scared in the first place.

The years passed and they enjoyed the ride. The dancing, the spinning, the laughing. Then it was time. Each in their turn, the children took their own leaps of faith into their own lives and families. Spinning, laughing, loving and enjoying the ride. They couldn't remember why they were ever scared in the first place.

The merry-go-round was slowing. The ride had been incredible and they were nearing it's end. It was just the two of them left, they stared long and hard at each other, kissed and embraced. He smiled at her with a smile that was weathered, but still gentle, soft and loving. He said one last time, "Trust me." and held out his hand to her. This time she wasn't scared. She took it and together, they leapt.

**This post is inspired by Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop. Prompt #2 " Write a post that begins and ends with a merry-g0-round"