Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Thank you so much, military. You blow goats. With VD.

Just in case you we aren’t friends on facebook, I got a crap-tacular bit of news this morning.  D’s getting medically extended.  And not only is he getting extended, they’re sending him to Texas for the extension.  TEXAS.  Thank all the G-ds that I acted on this house when I did.  I don’t think I could put up with being in this horrible apartment for how ever long he’s going to be there.
M’s still a nudist.  We ran errands this morning, as soon as we walked in the house she started peeling off clothes. 
I’ve got an order to finish before tomorrow morning.  It’s not a huge deal, it’s just lots of little things that need to be done.  The movers are coming tomorrow, too.  OMG too much to do.  I’m wondering if I’m even going to sleep tonight?  Probably not.  I mean, I’ve done all- nighters before; no biggie dealie.  This way the order gets done and packaged. 
Once Boychik’s home I need to run to the management office to get the keys, and take the mini desk off the wall next to my room.  That way the movers can get in and out of there.  Holy crap.  Movers.  In my house.  Sigh.  At least they’re only moving the big stuff.  The rest I’m doing myself.  I just need someone to move the big stuff – they don’t even have to put it together, I can do that myself.
I wish D were here.  I really do.  Whether or not he knows or believes it, he’d be a HUGE help for this move, even if he was only making Miss Scarlett keep her clothes on.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

We got it!!!!

I didn’t think I would be this excited about a rental house, but there you go.  Right now I’m waiting for the lease and taxes to arrive.  Move in date’s in a week or so; I’ve gotta get boxes and sort through our crap and all of this other stuff that goes along with a move.  But it’s a HOUSE.  With a yard and a family room.  And storage areas.
I’m can’t stand it, I just want to get things started and done and moved already.  But I can’t.  I have contracts to finish and send off for Miss A’s kids.  Her youngest is a cancer survivor; I know going through cancer with mom was brutal – I can’t imagine going through it with one of my own kids.  So I’m giving the family a break on my usual pricing and sending a free pair of bloomers for the little girl.
OMH OMG OMG I’m going to have a workspace again!
Wow, that was a little bi-polar, wasn’t it?  It’s just that my brain is EVERYWHERE right now.  And the only time that I can work right now is when the kids are in bed because the living room is so cramped.  So a few more hours before I can do some more work.  I got one of the shirts done except for the neckline last night.  Tonight it’s the bloomers and another shirt.  Dying has to be done, and panels for the dresses. 
Crap, I’ve become organized?  When did that happen? 
house house house house house 

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Are You Kidding Me?!

Alright.  We made it through B’s 13th okay.  With being broke and being in an apartment, not much could be done.  I’ve told her that she will have a sleep-over and gifts once we’re in a house.  I got a call about it today, so hopefully all is on track for moving this Spring…
The only wrench in the gears?  D may be forced to do a medical extension.  Apparently its something that happens at the post he’s at.  So after REFUSING to extend him so we could join him in Europe, REFUSING to let him re-enlist as active duty, REFUSING to help him or tell him anything useful like, oh, I don’t know “you know, man, your wife can do all this paperwork” now the military is thinking about keeping him from us for even longer. 
Yeah.  I’m just a wee bit PISSED.  Pissed enough that if he gets extended on medical grounds, I will be contacting his CO, and then EVERY SINGLE Marine and Soldier that I know (there’s a few) and asking them to speak for the family to whoever they need to speak to, particularly since the service that D’s in is OBVIOUSLY LYING when it tries to sell the whole “family is important for the support it gives our service members” (In the words of Sherman Potter, HORSE PUCKY) and I don’t know that many members of D’s service that are in a high enough spot to do anything. 
Marines?  Oh let’s see, I know a few that are out that were NCOs, my dad’s a Viet Nam vet for the Corps.  And I know at least one officer that’s active duty.  Yeeeeeeeeeeeeah, I’m done playing nice.  Three months in three years.  THREE.  FUCKING.  MONTHS.  Yeah, now that I’ve had the time to mull it over and think about it without being sickly tired, I’m angry.  D’s kids don’t know him.  This command has SCREWED him every chance they got, at least from what my logic and common sense says, and I swear the only good thing about this has been D meeting L & I and their kids.
G-ds above and below, the military is going to make me channel my mother.  I really hate channeling Mom.  She could get so very mean and horrible, but it was always justified.  She was always so freaking calm about it though…  Can I be calm?  It’s the military.  I’ve gotta be calm.  And may be channel my inner Juanita instead.  Family knows this reference.  Insert e-vile laugh here.  And if you’re a pray-er, pray for them.  Cause I’m so done it should be criminal.

Monday, February 6, 2012


Am I the only one that absolutely detests those N-V commercials with Holly, Hef’s ex-girlfriend?  The woman started off as a CENTERFOLD and is now in some sort of burlesque show here in Cat Box and she’s got the STONES to pretend she needs to lose weight?  What the EVER LOVING Fuck?  Really?  Really?  As if women don’t have enough self-hate for their physical appearance?
I am NOT skinny.  I haven’t had a flat belly since before I carried my first child to term and ended up having a caesarian section.  A little over 3 years later they had to remove the scar and then stitch me back up.  Four years later, ANOTHER caesarian and then ANOTHER one nearly two years to the day (Boychik and Miss Scarlett are 2 years and 5 days apart).  Add to that the meds, the arthritis, and kids keeping me from having the time or motivation to work out, and I’ve got “body by c-section ®” (MY saying.  DO NOT steal it.  I’ll find you and set my children upon you.)
What happened to the body image of the 60’s?  Marilyn Monroe was HOT and wore a size 12.  Yeah, not a typo there, kids.  TWELVE.  I wear a 12 in trousers.  But I’m also very short and very out of shape.  And they’re tight right out of the dryer.  Stupid tight.
So back to Holly what’s her name of the crappy Aurora costume at Southern Renn, “I’d like to exchange these for another size”.  SHE and those like her are the reason for these girls that look like they need a sandwich.  THEY are the reason that women starve themselves and hate their weight, face, hair color, etc.  Yeah, guys don’t help with the self-image, but whats with women suddenly jumping in and helping? 
How is this right?  It’s bad enough when men do the whole “butter face” thing, but now women are doing it more too… Graaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!!!!
Screw this, I’m gonna have a twinkie.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

The result is worse than the pukes...

Everyone’s over their sickness, but the house is still a pit, the cupboards are still mostly bare, and I now have a snail coin bank to attempt to repair.  Yes, the snail bank that B’s had forever was just broken by her baby sister.  I’m annoyed.  It’s after eleven at night and ALL the children are still awake.  I’m on the verge of screaming my temper is so far gone.  Oh, and B just yelled “Miss Scarlett, stop playing with mommy’s rubber mallet!”  Tattling without tattling, the weapon of older siblings since Moses was a child.
I didn’t go to Costco today.  As Momma C told me, “it’s a Saturday before the Super Bowl, why would you do that to yourself?”  She gave me a kid break and I went to Smiths and got enough for supper tonight, found a dragon pillow pet for $14 (so now all three kids have a pillow pet) and bought myself 6 mini bottles of nail polish at Sally’s.  Sure, we’re destitute till either the taxes or my school money comes in, but the week I’ve had?  I sooooo deserve 6 little bottles of new colored polish to play with and a bandage set that’s supposed to stop my nails from splitting.  I’m completely off my meds right now.  Including my multi-vitamin.  Have I mentioned that?  Yeah, D’s not going to be impressed.  I’m not really impressed right now, either.  Having the pukes puts a real kibosh on schedules, showers, getting outta bed, and taking your meds.  Seriously.  But I’m back under 170 pounds.  That’s kind of cool.  It’s a rotten way to lose weight, but what are you gonna do?
Oh and that not sleeping thing from the Nick Jr. crowd that destroys my living room and all?  Yeah, we’re outta melatonin, too.  Joy.

Saturday, February 4, 2012

Boychik only shares his cooties

So.  Today was a complete and utter bust.  Nothing got done, and B and I slept most of the day.  Why?  Boychik SHARED his cooties.  So both B and I got the pukes over night.  It was so bad that B vommed in her bed and I couldn't do anything about it until a few hours ago.  The only kid that hasn’t gotten sick has been our Miss Scarlett (touch wood). 
Why does this suck so hard?  Oh, lets see.  The rent hasn’t been paid yet, so it will be late.  The only food in the house is chicken nuggets, so I will end up ordering pizza.  When I’ve been this violently ill, I can smell EVERYTHING.  Including a kitchen that is demanding a game of "what's that smell?"  The little kids run amuck, oh, and this is the SICKEST I’ve been since BEFORE D went back into the military if you don’t count the heat-stroke I got in 2009.
As I write this, I’m desperately trying to re-hydrate, and justify missing 2 days of class.  So now I get to deal with the joy of paying a late fee on the rent and the ordeal that is Costco on a Saturday.  And I can only go to Costco once I’ve done inventory.  Add to that the fact that nothing’s come back on the rental house and I’ve barely gotten to “talk” to D in a couple of days and I’m a wee bit cranky…  Crap.  I’ve just realized I haven’t taken my meds in nearly 24 hours.  Perfect.
I’m going back to bed.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Sick Boychik is Sick

Boychik is grossly sick.  Vomit all over the bed sick.  He was still up at 4 this morning, throwing up.  I finally gave up and put him in bed with me with a bowl.  Imagine my disgust when trying to get the bowl to him I dipped my hand into it?  It was bad enough that he couldn’t keep down water. 
Here it is, less than 12 hours later, he seems to be fine, but we’re still going to see his doctor later this afternoon.  As I write this, he’s walking around with a pedia-lyte popsicle and part of a matzoh cracker.  He seems to be happy with it.  He’s already told me that “dere’s nothing left to frow up, Mommy,” so I’m hopeful.
I’m debating saying “to hell with it” on trying to keep the kids out of the front room with food, especially with Boychik being sick.  I’m going to give money to the management company for the house today or tomorrow.  I’m really excited about this.  House house house house….  And a raised bed area in the back yard that will get the right kind of sunshine (I think?) to grow veggies.  G-ds above and below, it should be illegal to be this excited about a stupid rental house!
I guess the big thing is that, to me anyway, a house is stability.  An apartment is temporary, and, to my mind, not suitable for kids. Unless it’s something like a townhouse or condo with a yard.  We’ve lived in horrible places since being in Cat Box; a couple upstairs apartments.  A quad-house with a horrible neighbor sharing the master bedroom wall, a house with a tiny backyard filled with dirt and then landscaping rocks.  And now this apartment complex.
Don’t get me wrong – for something that was supposed to be temporary, it’s been grand.  But temporary to me is months, not years.  We’ve been in this apartment complex too long.  So my friend PJ in the office knows that I’m trying to find a house and that I’m going to break the lease to get it.  Most of the tax return is going to rent and such till D starts getting his benefits, I get a job, or both.

UPDATE – Miss Scarlett’s sick, too.  Antibiotics for her and panda-time for EVERYONE!  GRRRRRRRRRRR

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

The Joys of House Hunting

Alright, the house with the pool?  Ew.  And there wasn’t a laundry room.  It was an open alcove on the back porch, which is uncovered.  Upsetting.  One of the houses was on a super busy street and the largest bedroom wasn’t the Master bedroom.  The house that I liked the best needs a 575 “holding deposit” on it by tomorrow.  O.o
So we get home, and OF COURSE M strips herself.  D’s got a case of the monthlies…  Whiney, cranky, tired; I really need the taxes to hit.  It’ll make everything easier, and the possibility of moving a reality.  I really just hate moving.  I’ve got high hopes for this house; B won’t have to switch schools, it’s within walking distance of the grocery store, Target, and Farmer’s markets.  The family NEEDS to be in a house.  The idea of being able to send the kids out to play in the back yard feels like a bit of normalcy that they’ve missed out on.  Add to that it’s a single story building and I’m excited about it.  Really excited.  Gotta have it now excited, ha ha.
Then I think about our finances, and I’m reminded of what my mom went through.  Living check to check all the time, renting her whole life, at times not having the food to make supper for us, not having health insurance till I was in junior high, the only new car she ever got she had to have my grandfather co-sign with her, and once she had it, nearly getting it repossessed.  I don’t want this for my family.  I don’t want to be rich, per se – that comes with its own issues.  I want us to be comfortable. 
What is financial comfort?  To me, it is having the money to order pizza if dinner is a crying disaster.  It’s being able to buy M shoes, or pay for B’s braces.  It’s paying someone else to cut Boychik’s hair.  This doesn’t seem like a huge deal, I know.  But I want this level of comfort for my family.  D and I just have to keep going with school and find jobs. 
I mean, the economy can’t stay like this forever, right?