changes

It is totally that time of year again-- MY new year. Fall is always my season of change and when life seems to "revamp". 4 years ago I was getting ready to move to Germany, 3 years ago we were getting ready to move back to the States, 2 years ago I had just moved back to Germany and was getting ready for M to come back from Iraq and last year I was finally starting to settle into my new life with 4 kids.

This year is no different, we're settling into a new house, had a slight change in career, the babies are becoming real toddlers (*snif*), we're changing the way we spend our money and the way we eat and live and we're trying to get used to our new routines. While all of that seems kind of mundane and seemingly simple, there has really been a true lifestyle change and it feels kind of drastic at times.

I'm hoping I can get to the point where I feel like I've got it together, soon. But last time I said I felt like I had it together, BOOM!, I got pregnant with twins. Sooooooo, I'm not really thinkin I really ever want to say I've got it together again because I know God would be like, "really?? That's what you think!! Let's see what you do with this" and then BOOM! something else life jarring and altering would happen. But I would like to be able to just sit back and enjoy life, instead of constantly feeling 1 step behind. And we're getting there, we really are, although I have been saying that for over a year now.

I plan on sharing more over the next couple of months, including what is going on here and doing some major series pieces on baby gear, diapering, including a huge diaper review of my all time favorite diapers, reviews on our strollers (which I've been meaning to get to for the past year), what I've been doing around the house and some other things, which may or may not include a wicked awesome giveaway. I know you guys are all super stoked to learn all about cloth diapers and strollers, I really do. There will be some fun stuff thrown in between, I promise :)

PS. Please let me know if any part of the new page design doesn't load for you-- I haven't been able to test it out on IE or Opera yet. I still can't even decide if I like the design or not...

angry birds

Have you guys played this game? If you haven't, you need to get yourself to the app store and download the free version and once you beat that you need to suck it up and pay the 99 cents for the paid version because, it will CHANGE YOUR LIFE. If you are behind the times and don't have an iPhone then you need to get your butt down to AT&T and get a phone and data plan and before you so much as make a call on that phone, you need to download this game. Or at least get yourself an iTouch.

Good Lord this game is awesome. And addicting. I have lost all of the men in my life to this game. My father, husband, son... all victims of the angry bird. And I may or may not have stayed up until 1:13 am playing it last night, but I really only did it for the sake of my son. I NEEDED to beat the harder levels so he wouldn't get frustrated when he tried. I'm just taking one for the team and doing my part to keep the peace.

Angry Birds is kind of like the most awesome game you've ever played (like Snood or Dr. Mario), but with birds, that you sling shot across the screen and smash into things in hopes of knocking over rocks and blocks and killing pigs. On a scale of 1 to Awesome, Angry Birds is somewhere around The Most Awesomerestness of Awesome. But child please, don't tell me you don't remember what Snood is because that was the single greatest game in the history of games of the early 2000's. That game got me through college. And if they ever make it into an iPhone app, I'm screwed.

You know though, I have to say I'm thankful that there weren't any iPhones or smartphones invented when I was in college because I would have NEVER gotten anything done or paid any attention in class. I hardly paid attention without smart phones, it would have been so UGLY if I had Angry Birds or Face Book or my email right at my finger tips. I don't think I would have graduated. I don't know how kids these days are getting through college with all of the distractions of laptops and phones... kind of makes me nervous for the quality of doctors and lawyers and teachers we are going to have in the next 20 years.

now you are family.

We've been home from the West Coast for about a week and a half now and I must be getting old, or something, because I'm not bouncing back as awesomely as I used to when I did stupid stupid insane ridiculously irresponsible road trips... like the time my friend J and I drove from CA to WA (about 900 miles in my ghetto car that had the bumper duct taped on because I had crashed it into a pole a few weeks earlier) after working a full day, only to get there in the morning, go to a wedding in the afternoon and turn around and leave to drive home that night and then went back to school and work that next day. Yeah, that was dumb. But we were 19 and knew everything so it didn't matter

Man, we flippin rocked that road trip. Good times, "resting" at the rest stop between Shasta and the Oregon border, and then again at the rest stop by the Sacramento airport... because that is a really really safe for 2, 19 year olds to do. Pretty sure that's how horror movies start. But if I'm remembering correctly, this was all during midterms and I still managed to ace an exam 2 days after we got back. AND my car got broken into the day of that midterm and not only did the jerkfaces go through my CD's individually and pick and choose which ones they wanted (apparently they weren't country fans) but they also took my stereo and my text books AND had the nerve to go through and look at the pictures we had taken at the wedding, as it was way back in the day when film was the method of taking pictures and digital cameras were only for the wealthy. The cops ended up taking the pictures into "evidence" so we don't have any pictures from that trip, except for a couple of the shady bathroom we stopped at in the middle of Oregon. That bathroom was seriously so shady I'm pretty sure we got herpes just by opening the door. My goodness, that was a trip.

This last road trip was hardly eventful. We made it home without breaking down (both the car, and our mental states), without any notable events and we only went $8 over our allotted "food, gas, Starbucks and hotel" budget. I was proud. But for some reason, I'm spent. I haven't had the energy to do anything and the suitcases are still in a heap on the floor. I've been rewashing and wearing the same 4 outfits we all wore on the drive home because I am just too lazy to unpack the rest of the clothes. It's not worth the effort...

Soon after we got home I started feeling sick and figured it was just from all of the travel, or maybe the fact that there was a disgusting layer of mold covering everything that we kept in our storage room (including, but not limited to my 4 of my 5 favorite strollers, but that is for a different post) and that it had seeped into our house and my body. Then I started to feel a lump in my neck and jaw area and figured it must be because my quack dentist did a quack crown on my tooth in December and now I needed a quack root canal, but then I got another lump where my leg meets my pelvis, in my groin area (um, that's gross and TMI, I know) so I stopped thinking it was because my quack dentist sucked and I needed a quack root canal. After the third day of zombie-dom and not being able to complete even half of my workout or any household task, I went to the doctor.

She was like, "Oh, you're fine. I don't see anything. I'll just give you some decongestants and you'll be fine." Yeah, I'm not thinking that you're really understanding what I'm saying. There is a GOLF BALL size LUMP in my NECK AREA and GROIN right now-- that aint right. And she was like, "I'm sure there's not a lump in your groin, it's probably just an ingrown hair" Yeah, no. That would be one seriously nasty hair (really that is GROSS! Someone stop me) It's INTERNAL. And she was like, "Well, I'll take a look at it but I really don't think it's anything." And then she felt it, and her eyes got big and she was like, "So I'm gonna order a CBC and a BlahBlahBlah and a WhatchaMaCallIt and a ThingAMaBob and put you on some heavy duty antibiotics and if it isn't better in 10 days, we're going to biopsy that". Hold the phone. My short answer would be, No. My long answer would be, HECK NO. No WAY are you going to biopsy something in my neck. You will have to knock me out cold before that happens. Those are long needles and That. Is. Gross.

Holy "My Big Fat Greek Wedding". Knowing me, if they biopsy that crap they'll probably find teeth and a spinal cord



and that it is really my twin that my body has finally decided to expel. Or in my case, triplet because of the additional one. See, multiples really do run in my family.

I'm sure I'm fine and it's my body's way of telling me to SLOW DOWN or it is just some freak infection... even though I don't have a fever or any other "infections symptoms". The one in my neck is feeling a little better so that is a plus, the other one though, is really annoying and I could totally do without. This will certainly be one round of antibiotics I will finish. No way in you know where are they coming at my neck with a needle. No way, no how.

this is how we do it (insert tune to the awesome 90's song here)

Besides the "are they twins" question, (no, they are half sisters), the two things I hear the most are, "I don't know how you do it" (my pills are better than yours) and "How do you do it?" The truth is, I'm not sure I have a really good answer for that because, well, I don't really know. It has taken 9 long months to get to where we are today and I'm still trying to figure everything out.

The first 4 months after the twins were born were literally the most challenging and stressful of my entire life. Even though I had a lot of help from our families there was so much going on and too much to adjust to for even the strongest person to be able to cope well.

Being the sole physical parent to 2 preschoolers and newborn twins was brutal. Between the night feedings and wakings and having to pump in the middle of the night, I was getting about 3 hours of sleep a night. Add to that the normal everyday stressors and responsibilities and you pretty much have a recipe for disaster. There's a reason they use sleep deprivation as a form of torture. It messes with your mind and can make you think you are losing it. You see things that aren't there, you hear things that aren't being said and you just plain can't cope.

In addition to the sleep deprivation, I was also dealing with postpartum depression. It was no surprise to me, as I had been through it twice before, but this time I swore it was going to be different. Even before the girls were born I made a promise to myself that I was going to get help. And when I finally worked up the courage to get help at about 12 weeks postpartum, my doctor told me he really didn't think it was "that bad" because I was "functioning" and that I should wait it out a couple more weeks. I told him that was fine, but in the meantime if I happened to drive my car into a phone pole, he would know why. Of course I was "functioning". I didn't have a choice. If I didn't function, no one else would. The babies weren't going to feed themselves, the kids weren't going to take themselves to school... It was then that he took me seriously and helped me get help.

About a week later I ended up having to go on a total elimination diet (again) because both babies stomach issues had gotten so bad and all of the proteins that were passing through my breastmilk were causing them to have severe pain and lots of spitup. That meant I got to cut out dairy, soy, wheat, eggs, corn, beef, caffeine, citrus, nuts and chocolate. I remember pleading with the babies to at least let me have caffeine, if they were going to insist on being up all night. Fair is fair, right? They didn't agree. I had done the elimination diet, for 10 months, with CB, so it was nothing new for me. I was just praying so hard that it would be different this time so it was a big letdown, and a major change, when the last resort became the only option.

It was very hard living in that dark place. I remember laying in bed crying, wanting so desperately to love my babies the way I thought I should. Of course I loved them, but I wanted to really feel it. I wanted to see their beauty, instead of just seeing them as a responsibility. When they were about 13 weeks old I called a photographer and begged her to take the twins' pictures. I just kept thinking about all I was missing out on, how hard it was for me to see who they really were and how guilty I would feel if I couldn't remember their newness and sweet babyhood because I was so wrapped up in my own head. I needed someone to capture those days before they were gone. The day of their photo shoot was literally transforming. I got to spend 4 straight hours with just them, finally getting to see them for who they were, both as a unit and as 2 completely different personalities. I got to focus on their little toes and noses and the fine baby hair on the sides of their heads and really look at their sweet baby lips. I just got to be with them.

And for the first time I started believing it was going to get better, that I could really do this. I could be a mom to 4 kids and love and nurture them and teach them and grow with them, without completely screwing them up. While life was far from being in control and "normal" in any way, shape or form, I started striving for some kind of normalcy. I started getting dressed everyday and going out more, started cooking again and finding things that made me happy. We took some day trips and shopping trips and for the first time, I started to feel in control.

Over the next couple of months my confidence grew, my patience expanded and my sleep hours increased, all leading to a much happier person. I actually decided to make a quick trip with W and A to where we were going to be moving to find a place to rent and see my husband for the first time since he had left to go back to Germany 4 months earlier. Everyone asked me why A and W got to go while MJ and CB stayed back with the grandparents and the answer was simple: A couldn't live without me, MJ couldn't care less if I exsisted. W is a great traveler, CB would much rather stay back and hang out. After we found a place to live the the 4 of us flew back to California and spent 2 weeks getting adjusted to life as a family of 6 and preparing for the next big move.

We moved cross country the day after Christmas. Probably not the best decision but it worked out ok. Taking a 4 day road trip with 4 kids ages 4 and under isn't exactly on the top 10 list of things I want to do again in my lifetime, for sure. When we finally got to our house we realized it wasn't the "great place" we thought it was when we chose it, and over the past few months I have spent well over 55 hours cleaning up the messes and nastiness the previous occupants left behind while fighting the management company to make simple repairs. I don't even want to talk about it, I'll start dry heaving.

Sometime in February I got a headache. Normal pain meds didn't stop it and after about a week I went and saw a doctor. She gave me something stronger and after 2 weeks of that not working I saw another doctor. They did some labs and after 2 more weeks of pain meds not helping and having a constant, raging headache, I finally called the doctor in tears, begging her to fix me. She pulled my labs and asked me why I hadn't come in earlier as my test results, from 2 weeks prior, showed I was extremely dehydrated and severely anemic and was very deficient of a few essential vitamins. The next morning I ended up getting 2 liters of IV fluids, some vitamin shots and a shot of pain meds, and it still didn't help.

About a week later, after much discussion and some tears, it was decided that I needed to stop pumping for the babies because the elimination diet was literally going to kill me if I didn't. I was burning at about 1000 calories a day making milk for the babies and was probably only taking in about 1000 calories a day from the food I was eating. My BMI was officially considered "underweight" and my body fat percentage was off the charts low. Making that decision was so hard. I wanted to give my babies the best I could offer them, but in the end, if I'm not healthy, I'm not going to be any kind of good to them.

By stopping pumping I did gain 3 hours a day to do other things, like clean the house and actually play with the kids. We were finally able to unpack all of the boxes and settle in. I had more freedom to go places and do things and joined the gym, making my gym time part of our daily routine. Pretty stupid on the gym's part, including child care for ALL of my kids for up to 2 hours a day in my monthly fee... they are really losing money on me!

Yeah, sometimes life can be a challenge, like when all 4 kids start screaming at once or when they all decide that they want something from me THAT MOMENT when I've just sat down for the first time all day or when the older 2 decide to jump on the couch that has all of the nice, neat little piles of clothes from the 3 loads of laundry I just folded and sends them all FLYING into the air... deep breaths, mama. Deep breaths. Or when they all take turns waking up all night long... ever had 2 babies teethe at the same time? Or be sick at the same time? Or have 4 kids be sick at the same time? Not so fun. Sometimes even just getting 4 other people dressed and out the door in the morning can be a huge challenge.

But if having 4 kids and dealing with food intolerances and sleepless nights and sensory issues are the worst things that I have to deal with, then rock on! If having a husband who is gone a lot is the hardest part of my life, then boo hoo, cry me a river. At least he's coming home. The truth is, and this might come as a shock to some people, I'm really not anything special. There are millions of other women out there facing challenges that I can't even imagine.

So how do I do this? I guess I just do it. I take it one day at a time and try really hard not to sweat the small stuff. I try to focus on the things that are really important and enjoy the baby laughs and preschooler squabbles. And I don't take myself too seriously. I don't expect perfection and allow myself to mess up. When I mess up, I learn from that experience and move on. We do what makes us happy and keeps us healthy.

We have a system down and it is far from being perfect, but it works. I'm still not "supermom", heck, I'm sitting here typing this instead of doing the dishes and putting away the morning's mess. I make to do lists and try to check things off but my to do list from last Monday still doesn't have any check marks on it. But I'm in a good place. We are in a good place. My kids are happy and for the most part healthy, we have fun and we have dance parities and snack picnics and lots of cuddle time. And at the end of the day, that is really all that matters.

side by side

My lovely friends who have seen my belly pictures have spent the past day trying to convince me that I am not the heifer that I think I am. They have almost convinced me. Almost. Looking at my pictures from this pregnancy, no, I'm not HUGE compared to other moms who carry twins. But compared to my previous pregnancies, dang. Moooooo. Woof.

I never measured larger than 33 weeks with W. He had severe growth restriction in the womb because the little stinker tied a true knot in his cord at 32 weeks and was born the size of a 33 week baby, at 38 weeks. So for me to be measuring 10-12 weeks ahead at 25 weeks makes me bigger than I ever was with my first pregnancy. Thankfully, CB was born at a very healthy 7 pounds, but I carried her so low at the end that I never measured larger than 36 weeks. Plus, she was born 11 days early, so I didn't get much of a chance to measure larger.

Tonight I was a bit bored (yes, I actually had a few seconds to be bored!) so I decided to dig through my old pictures and do some comparisons. It is pretty interesting to see how the same uterus (she said uterus, again!!) can grow so differently with each pregnancy.





So yes, my friends are right. I'm not a complete cow, just very large for what I am used to. Honestly, I have to say that I am (extremely full of myself and) pretty darn proud of my Buddha belly. I kinda like it. It certainly makes for a convenient spot to set my plates when I am eating and that is a definite plus.

shouldn't we have flying cars by now?

It is freaking 2009, people! Where are the flying cars and personal jet packs? I want a refund. This sucks! When I was in second grade, they made a big deal about us being the class of 2000 and every other week we would have to do some lame art or social studies project and imagine what life would be like in the year 2000. We all made pictures of Reeboks (with the strap-- you can sing it-- low low low low low low low) with rockets and flying cars... the Two Thousands were going to be like the Jetsons. And now here we are. No flying cars, no jet packs. We should at least have robots that do dishes!

In all seriousness, happy 2009!! Like most people, I am happy to leave 2008 behind. Not because of the "economic meltdown", Lord help me if I hear that term one more time, but because I was just ready for something new. Plus, two thousand nine is easier to say than two thousand eight. Eight is not a very sexy number.

Last year brought so many challenges, none of which we need to rehash, and wasn't exactly a fun year. The past 2 months have almost made up for the previous 10 sucking, thankfully. I am so blessed to have my children finally (somewhat) healthy and a wonderful extended family who supports us so much and great friends who I can call on at anytime and don't complain about it and who don't seem to mind if my average turn around time for an email or call back is 4 days.

Most of all, I am blessed to have a fantastic husband who will do anything for our family and who has treated me like a queen even when he is dead tired and needs a break. Since he has come home I haven't really been at my finest because of colds and the flu and eczema so bad that the pads of my fingers were splitting open. So he has taken over most of the household duties, forbidden me from doing the dishes because that seems to be what tears my hands up the most and has cared for the kids in the middle of the night so I can rest. He even went Christmas shopping for me and got me the little things I would never buy for myself, like a bar stool so I can sit my fat butt down when I cook, even though I was lame and only bought him one little stupid gift. Our children are blessed to have a father who will do nothing but read to them and play with them from the second he gets home to the time he gives them a bath and puts them in bed. They are also blessed to have a father that is much more patient than their mother is.

So thank you, honey, for doing what you do and working so hard. Who would have thought that after 54 months of marriage and about 38 months apart that we would be where we are today, and doing just fine. And thank you to those of you who have stuck with me for the past few years. I couldn't have made it through 2008 without you. I hope you will stick around for 2009 too. I can pretty much guarantee that it is going to be one heck of a year.

our first real chirstmas

M and I have been married for 5 Christmas seasons now but this was the first time we ever had a "real" Christmas together, in our own home. The first Christmas we were married was spent at his parent's house because we had just finished our first assignment and were waiting for him to leave for Korea the next week. Our second Christmas was spent 6000 miles apart. W was just a few months old and I was living in an apartment and really didn't feel like buying a tree and decorating the house. I did however, make a lot of pie that year... Our 3rd Christmas together was actually spent together, but I was hugely pregnant w/ CB and had just moved across the world to Germany and really didn't feel like doing anything. I did put up a tree, with ornaments and all, but we didn't do anything else. We were so lame that 2 days before Christmas we decided that we should probably get W something, so we bought him a puzzle and some cars and called it good. It was only at 9 that night that I realized we didn't buy wrapping paper to wrap the presents, so W never did get to open anything on Christmas morning.

Then there was last year... which really, we can just not talk about because it was so incredibly embarrassing. Never before have I been such a scrooge. I know I had good reason but seriously, that tree was inexcusable. So this year I decided to make up for it all. Germans do Christmas right and this was my last chance to have a real German Christmas, so we went all out. Well, as out as we could. For the past 4 weekends I have been dragging my poor family through the rain and snow to almost every Christmas market in a 400 km radius from our house. We quickly found out they were all pretty much the same, but we still went, if for nothing else than to say we went.

The day after Thanksgiving I pulled out all of the Christmas decorations and went to town. And 20 minutes later, I was done. Didn't have that many Christmas decorations to put up... I had picked up a few from here and there over the years, but really, my collection was pitiful. That is what online Black Friday sales are for, right? Over the next 2 weeks boxes came and our house started to look like a bad Christmas catalog. Oh well, we were in the spirit and that is all that mattered.

Christmas Day itself was incredibly uneventful. The kids woke up way too early and we put them back to bed, then we finally gave into their demands for food and took them downstairs, had some breakfast and started in on the stockings. CB was like, "What the heck is the big deal?" Probably because half the stuff in her stocking was left over from our trip back to Germany... bad mommy! W was excited as always and couldn't wait to get to the big presents.

After we were done opening all of the presents and taking all of the required pictures, M got to experience his first marathon "quick, put everything together and find batteries to make everything work before the kids revolt" session. And then I spent the rest of the morning discreetly putting tape over any and all speakers on the new toys to make them quieter. Why toy manufactures only put loud, louder and loudest as the volume settings is beyond me, but you can bet there will be some letter writing going on because there is NO reason that a child's toy needs to be that loud!

Christmas dinner was tradtional and might as well have been Thanksgiving dinner: turkey breast, green bean casserole with mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce... delish. It actually wasn't bad, considering the entire week before I had the flu and had lost 4 pounds and didn't exactly feel like cooking or eating.

And that was our Christmas. Nothing exciting, but we actually did it this year. I hope it will be the start of many special Christmas days to come, but I'm not holding my breath. It looks like next Christmas will be spent moving, which means we will end up at Denny's for breakfast after opening presents under a 2 foot Charlie Brown tree in our temporary housing because all of our stuff will be in boxes, most likely 2 weeks behind us. It's gonna be great!

Here are some pictures of our house for your enjoyment and my memory books:

ah man

I've been tagged, twice. So I guess I should stop stalling and do this already. But you two taggers should know that I don't do this for just anyone... or anyone at all really. You two are special! And being as narcissistic as I am, I am not going to tag anyone else. Ok, the reason I'm not tagging anyone else is because 98% of the blogs I read have already been tagged and the other 2% won't want in on this kind of action. I know, I know, I'm breaking the rules and now I'll probably have 7 years of bad luck and die a slow horrible death from bird flu induced intestinal and rectal bleeding, or whatever happens to you when you break a chain letter or email forward, but I'm willing to take the risk for your reading pleasure.

So here goes.
1. I have only successfully parallel parked a car 1 time, and that was by pure dumb luck. Unless I buy one of those cars that parks itself, I don't think I'll ever be able to do it again. And don't try telling me how to do it. It won't help, believe me.

2. I didn't read 85% of the assigned books I was supposed to read during college and I still got "A"s. There are about $3200 worth of unbroken bindings sitting in boxes in my attic... because everyone needs to save college text books about advances in computer technology from 8 years ago. Oh yeah, that book is totally relevant and useful in today's technology and is not a waste of space at all.

3. Today was trash day and I am very proud to say that for the past 2 weeks, we only had 4 total bags of trash. 2 bags were diapers, 1 bag was from the big party and the other was just general trash and food scraps. Everything else was recycled and I am willing to bet that if I had a compost pile (which is totally pointless for me to have considering I don't have any kind of garden) I would have had less than half a bag of actual, non diaper/ non party, garbage for the 2 weeks. And yes, I realize that throwing out diapers does nothing to reduce the carbon footprint, but at this point, there is no reason for me to invest in cloth diapers because the kids are so close to being out of diapers now. At least I flush the flushable stuff before I trash the diapers so that toxic waste isn't going into the landfills.

4. Speaking of poop, I think bloggers have ruined this election for everyone and I hate them for all of the drama and misinformation they have put out there. What a bunch of idiots, all hoping for their 15 seconds. Go back to what you do best (not much) and leave the politics for those who actually research, think things through, and know what they are talking about. Thanks.

5. I've never seen any of the Back to the Future movies, Harry Potter movies, Lord of the Rings movies, Narnia movies, Star Trek movies (or shows), Indiana Jones movies, Matrix movies, Jurassic Park movies or Pirates of the Caribbean movies, nor do I have any inclining of a bit of desire to see them. My friend J might disassociate herself from me for that, but it is true.

6. I won't eat any fruit that has brown or soft spots on it, especially bananas. I prefer them to be slightly green.

7. My kids are exactly 17 months apart, to the day of the month (10) and hour (6:55 and 7:55 pm) and both were born on the same day of the week (Saturday). We are extremely predictable people and, go figure, both of my kids crave routine.

still here...

We're still here, I promise. Just super busy and the kids have been sick... again. I've been uber domesticated these days and it's cutting into my online time, not to mention my projects are draining what little brain capacity for thinking I have left right out of me so I am unable to come up with anything worthy of writing about.

I don't want to talk about my projects yet because I'm making things for people who waste their time reading this and I don't want to ruin the surprise just yet. But let's just say I've been up to my ears in tulle, or "itchy stuff" as W calls it.

I've decided I'm NEVER paying for anything made with tulle again. I'll do it myself. That stuff has to be the most genius way to make money. It costs $.97 a yard, and most projects like the projects I am working on take 5-6 yards but are sold for at least $45 each. If I had the patience, I'd go into business.

Case in point: my wedding veil. I had decided that I didn't want a veil for my wedding but changed my mind 2 days before the ceremony. So I went to the fabric store and bought my 8 yards of tulle for $9, a comb clip thing, a string of beads and a spindle of thread and 3 hours later, I had this:



The day after I made it, I had to go to the bridal boutique to pick something up and I saw a very similar veil "on sale" for $250. While my handmade, $9, 3 hour veil may not have been the greatest one ever made, it was pretty freaking close and totally worth the $241 I didn't spend.

You know that saying that people have "champagne taste on a beer budget"? That is totally true for me, except I can make the beer look and taste just like champagne. It's a gift, really and comes in handy in times like these when I have 6 baby showers
and birthday parties to go to in the next month. And for times when people are getting married. I still think my friend J and I should start a company. We can plan weddings quick and on a small budget and have them look amazing. We will call it "Shotgun Weddings" and part of the deluxe package will include my doula services for the couple 6 months after the wedding.

Speaking of weddings, although, not a shotgun wedding, happy 4 years to M and me (a little late but at least I'm making the effort, right?) It's been an indescribable 4 years, that's for sure.

shout out!

I recently found out that my husband has been able to sneak on here and read what I write. My secrets are out. Oh well! Guess it's less to explain once he comes home, right? So since he is able to read this trashy novel of mine, I figured we should give him a shout out, as he's off in the middle of nowhere and doesn't get much interaction with the outside world. (No, seriously, post a comment and give him a shout out! He would love it, I think... If not, too bad!)

I realize that not many of my readers know my husband. I don't talk about him often even though there is a lot to talk about. We have a long history, starting when we were in elementary school, even though we don't really remember that.

We officially met the summer after I graduated high school. It was pretty much instant attraction, compounded by the fact that we were going to colleges 2 States away from each other. We dated long distance for almost a year and then we broke up for some unknown reason. 3 years later he called me and asked if we could give it a second chance. I told him I'd give him 5 hours and 13 hours later, we were still on our date. 3 months after that, we decided we should get married.

Most women have a beautiful and romantic story about their proposal. Mine, not so much. It happened over the phone, because once again, we were dating long distance, and went something like this:

him: "Well, I guess we should get married before I go to OBC."
me: "Yeah, that's probably a good idea"
him: "Ok, do you think you can plan the wedding in 5 weeks?"
me: "Who needs 5? I can do it in 4."
him: "Sounds good. Lets plan on that then."
me: "Ok."

And 5 weeks later, we were married. I'm sure there was much speculation about the quick nature of our wedding. I love me some good gossip, but there was none here. The truth was, he married me for my money and I married him for his health insurance. And what glorious health insurance it is! It's the gift that keeps on giving. My money ran out a long time ago, but that insurance keeps going.

I would have married him even if he didn't have killer health insurance. He's a great husband. He eats my cooking and doesn't complain. He puts up with me never making the bed and he lets me hog the covers. He even folds the towels how I like them folded and he supports my stroller habit. Most importantly, more often than not he gives me the TV remote and control of the car radio. These qualities make for a great spouse. He has many more good qualities that overshadow the fact that he's made it a habit to knock me up and flee the country. He's 2 for 2 on that one. I'm not really liking that track record but he thinks it's great because he doesn't have to deal with mean JoAnna that way. Lucky kid. He really does work hard for us though, which I really appreciate because his money buys me pretty things. KIDDING!

Sometimes he works too hard, but it's not his fault. He's good at what he does. At least I'm assuming he is because they keep promoting him and stuff. I don't really know what he does. I don't ask because I am easily confused. I know that he can learn any language he wants to with ease and that he's one tough dude. I'm pretty sure he could do some serious damage to your face with his bare hands if he had to. I'm also pretty sure you would never want to find that out first hand. I know that he knows a lot about things with lots of numbers and velocity and trajectory and some other stuff that I will never be smart enough to understand. He can tell you all about everything I know nothing about and that is why we are a good balance.

He's also a fantastic father. One of the best. He truly knows that time is precious and that you have to make every second count. When he's home, he spends 98% of his spare time with the kids, which is amazing to me. W loves his daddy unlike he loves anyone else. I know it kills both of them to be so far apart, but it makes their time together that much sweeter. I love watching him with our babies. It makes me happy to know that our kids will always be loved and cared for.

Someday, who knows when, we will get to be a family again and I am looking forward to it, mostly for his sake. I can't imagine what it must be like to have to be away from your family so much. Even though we aren't a complete family, at least I have my kids with me at all times. I don't know what I would do if I had to be away from our kids as much as he has to. He says I'm strong, but I'm pretty sure he's stronger. I know he is. And that is a good thing because we would be a pretty wussy family if I was the one who wore the pants.

identity crisis

When W was about 18 months old, his daddy started reading him Goodnight Gorilla before bed. I never read it to him, because I don't read and certainly don't believe in reading to my children, so I never really looked in the book until one night when my husband was gone and W insisted that I read it to him. As we were flipping through the pages, he was pointing out all of the animals and making the appropriate sounds, most of the time, until we got to the page where all of the animals go into the bedroom. There is a woman on this page and W pointed to the woman and proclaimed her to be "MOMMY!". I was taken aback at first and then thought, "haha, funny. Daddy taught you that woman is Mommy because Mommy is not very pretty when she wakes up and probably looks like her". (this is the best picture I could find of her. You can't see her very well, but you get the point. Lets just say, she's not exactly the best looking woman in the world.)

So in my postpartum hormonal state, I stewed and cussed at my husband silently for a few days, as W would yell out "MOMMY!" every time we saw her, until my husband came home. As soon as he walked through the door I threw the book at him and asked him why on earth he would be so mean as to make W think that woman looked like mommy. Surely I couldn't be THAT ugly, right? My husband swore up and down that he didn't teach W to say that and he thought I had taught W to say that. So the kid had to have come up with it on his own. I thought that maybe he just thought every woman was mommy, but he didn't do it for anyone else, except for the ugly gorilla woman.

A few weeks after I had forgiven him for thinking I was ugly, we were watching tv, because again, I don't read, and Heidi Klum came on the screen. W screamed out "MOMMY!" again and would do it every time she came back on. I was so So SO happy that he thought she was mommy. That was much better for my ego than him thinking I looked like the gorilla woman, for sure.

I knew deep down that W had to have good taste in women because he's had an insane crush on Heidi since he was like 3 months old, no joke. I was always stoked when the Project Runway reruns would come on because I knew I could get a quick break every time Heidi was on the screen. Once, we had a VS catalog with Heidi on the cover and the kid walked around with it for 3 weeks straight. He would just sit and look at it, so obviously in love. I'm convinced that the gorilla woman = mommy thing was a fluke. Either that, or I just spent WAAAAAAAAAY too much time laying in bed like the gorilla woman and that is where he got that association from.

Just recently, as I have become obsessed with Project Runway again, has W been seeing a lot more of Heidi and has started referring to her as Mommy again. I love that kid. Seriously. Not only does he call her Mommy but he calls every pretty woman he sees Mommy and it makes me smile. I know he does it because it makes me smile (and because I give him a cookie every time he does it) but I'd like to think that he really means it. Since he is so young and impressionable, I will keep reinforcing this delusion, just so I can feel better about myself. Is this what they call brainwashing?

to my sweet cb

You are now 1. I'm sure everyone is tired of hearing it, but I really cannot believe it has been a year since you came into this world. When you were born, you were the most beautiful baby I had ever seen. And I can get away with saying that because your brother wasn't a beautiful baby; he was handsome, and there is a difference. ((Actually, he looked exactly like a smurf when he was born, but we don't have to tell him that))

You still are the most beautiful baby I have ever seen, even if those jerks in the Gap baby photo contest don't agree. Everyone else thinks you are the most beautiful baby too. We are stopped by random people at least twenty times whenever we are out for them to tell us what a perfect little one you are. I'm beginning to think your mutant power is that you can melt even the coldest hearts with your sweet smile and big eyes. Without much effort, you can make the grumpiest old men coo and coddle over you. It's amazing. I guess I would rather have you melt hearts than walk through walls, so that works for me.

Your dad is worried for your future though. He's scared he isn't going to be able to keep the boys away. I'm pretty sure you will be able to hold your own but he doesn't believe that. He's always talking about his plan to make sure no boy ever touches you. I'm not really sure what that plan is though... I tend to tune out as soon as I hear phrases that contain "M16" and "scare him a little bit". I really don't think you will have any problem fighting the boys away because as sweet as you are, you really do know how to assert yourself and you are very selective about who you let into your life.

You have never had any problem letting me know what you want and don't want. You spent four straight months screaming at me not to feed you certain things. If only I had listened, life would have been so much easier. If I had figured out that you had such food issues earlier, we could have avoided giving you 1.5 mL of 7% alcohol two times a day from the time you were 9 weeks old because we thought you had reflux. That actually could be one of the reasons why your dad worries for your future. You took those meds like a sorority girl taking a shot of tequila and didn't even cry for a chaser. Too bad it didn't even help you sleep better.

I had no idea a baby could live on 6 total hours of sleep in a 24 hour period. I also didn't know that babies existed who wouldn't go 10 waking minutes without crying. You were exhausting, really. It wasn't your fault and I will never blame you, but my goodness! I have no idea how we survived. I really, really don't. They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger and that scares the crap out of me. I don't know what is in our future that we need to be stronger for. Those months were the hardest of my entire life and I can't even imagine any more months that could be harder. I don't even want to try to imagine what could be worse than those months.

After I figured out what it was that was bothering you, you became a different baby. I got my sweet little baby back and we got our lives back. I will never forget the first night you slept more than 2 hours at a time. I actually got to dream. I hadn't had a dream in ages because I was never able to get into a deep enough sleep. You always had this sixth sense and would wake up exactly 3 minutes after I would crawl into bed. I'm so glad you have lost that sense. I'm so glad that you will now sleep up to 6 hours at a time. I don't care if you don't sleep through the night yet. You clearly aren't ready to and that is fine. I won't make you or try to force you to.

You do everything in your own time, just like your mama. This is glaringly clear given the fact that you didn't roll over until 2 weeks after you started crawling. I'm glad I know this about you now and can accept it because I think that will help avoid some friction as you grow up. If I ever forget it, I'm sure you will quickly remind me because that is just how you are.

I wouldn't trade you in for anything, even with all the hard times and giving up coffee. You are worth it. You have taught me so much about myself in the past year. I am stronger than I thought I was, I have more willpower than I thought I did, and you have taught me that I am a damn good mother, despite what the "others" say. You make me smile and I love to watch you grow and learn. I look forward to seeing what adventures you bring us in the coming years. I look forward to watching you and your brother grow up together and I look forward to the day that your daddy comes home and you get to know him again. You are a daddy's girl at heart and I know you two are going to be close. Even if he seems a bit crazy, it's because he's crazy over you and only wants the best for his baby girl.

I hope and pray that the next year is better for us and that you continue to get healthy. You are doing better now, but I know everyone would like to see your body catch up with your head. There's nothing really wrong with having your weight be below the 3rd percentile and your head above the 95th percentile, but at some point, it's gonna be a problem. I'm already having a hard time getting your shirts over your head. Good thing summer is coming and you can wear dresses with large neck holes.

i have a problem (again)

I have recently discovered the wonderful goodness of Hot Tamales. They are amazing. So amazing that I ate 2, 5 pound bags in less than 2 weeks. There is just something about them... something about the combination Carnauba Wax, modified food starch, Red #40 and Blue #2 Lake that just makes my mouth water. I do find it odd that my daughter doesn't react when I eat any of that junk, but she has a reaction to peaches.

These wonderful jewels of gummy spicy delight have become my vice. Some of you have coffee, or wine, or chocolate, I have this. I'm not permitted by my 11 month old diet coach dictator to partake of any of the normal vices. Let me tell you though, I'm so glad I have found these.

But now I have a problem. I believe I have become addicted. As far as I have researched, and I research a lot, there is nothing addicting about Pectin, but I think my body has been deprived of sugar and corn syrup for so long that it's making up for lost time. I ran out of Hot Tamales a few days ago and I started to crave them. Because I was too lazy to go to the store to buy more, I ate healthy stuff again. I tried to curb the cravings with carrot sticks and fruit leather but it didn't work. I NEEDED them. I needed to much on them mindlessly while reading emails or driving. I needed them when I got stressed out and anxious to calm me down. Nothing else would work.

Last night I was out and on my way home, I saw a store and decided that I simply could not make the 28 minute drive without having anything to munch on. It was like my car was driving itself there. I couldn't stop it. I felt like I was sneaking out to buy cigarettes. Not that I know what it feels like to buy cigarettes. Ok, I do. I used to buy them for a few of my roommates all the time. I was an enabler and I liked it. Why did I do it? Because it made them happy and nice and that made my life happy and nice.

I just needed a fix. Just a little bit. So I jumped out of the car and ran into the store, braving the "cold" 39 degrees without a jacket. It took me a few minutes to find the candy aisle, as I had stopped in one of those "upscale" stores that tries to give them impression they are healthy so they hide the junk stuff in the back. Once I found it, it was like an instant calm came over me. I practically ran to the checkout so I could tear into them and then I became self conscious because I felt like people would judge me for only buying 3 boxes of candy. So I got cash back.

Once I was in the car, I took my first bite and it was heaven. Half a box later, I was almost home and almost satisfied. Now, 28 hours later, I'm down two boxes and trying to make the third one last. I have to go to the dentist tomorrow, for reasons completely unrelated to my sugar addiction, so I won't be able to indulge the senses for most of the day. I guess this is a good thing... I bet you can guess what the first I'm going to do once that Novocaine wears off is...

you're a mean one, mr. grinch...

I've decided that the older you get, the less fun Christmas time becomes. Last year was the first year I've actually dreaded the Christmas season. I think that had something to do with the fact that I had just moved to Germany and I was very pregnant with CB. We had decided we weren't going to do anything for Christmas, which would save us a lot of money and W would never know the difference. But on Dec 23, I realized that it was cruel to deny W the joy of tearing open presents and subsequently spending hours playing with the remnants, so we went and bought W a wooden puzzle and a toy truck. But then we got home and I realized that I didn't have any kind of wrapping paper in the house, so I gave myself an A for effort and called it good. At least I put up a tree... too bad I got sick of dealing with it and took it down the day after Christmas.

This year, I'm just not feeling it, even more so than last year. Could be because I'm so swamped with everything else or it could be because part of my family is missing. I don't think it's very fair for us to be celebrating and having a good time while he's so far away and not able to celebrate at all. Plus it's just not the same without him being around. Honestly though, I'm not sure how I know it's not the same, because I have no basis of comparison to know what a normal Christmas would be. He's been gone for 2 of the 4 Christmas seasons we've been together and I don't count last year as a real Christmas because it was such a bust. It's good to know that he's being fair to the kids and missing both of their first Christmases.

I'm happy to say that I no longer get nauseous when I hear a Christmas song like I did earlier this month. Either I'm getting desensitized or my frigid heart is thawing. I haven't had the urge to hurt people while shopping, which is always a plus. I don't dare go out during peak hours though. Someone would end up in jail.

I'll do Christmas for the kids. W is at the age where he totally digs Baby Jesus, presents, trees with lights on them and Santa, as long as Santa is on the first floor of the mall and W is on the second floor of the mall. CB doesn't care about Christmas, I don't think. As long as she has paper to eat, she's good to go. She certainly doesn't like Santa either. Her picture with Santa includes a pouty lip and tears, and me flying by as I threw her in Santa's lap and ran while screaming "TAKE THE PICTURE!!"

I think I know what I'm going to get W this year but have no clue what to get for CB. She doesn't really show a preference for anything. Like I told my friend T tonight, she judges everything equally. People keep asking me what I want for Christmas and I don't know the answer. I haven't even had a chance to think about it. I should probably sit down and do that sometime soon considering there are only 11 shopping days left... I guess the only really great thing about this Christmas season is that I'm not going to have to worry about losing those pesky holiday pounds!! Rock on for me!

well on my way

I'm sorry for the lack of posting lately. The truth is, I've been working on this post for the past few days. It's one that is important to me and I want to get it just right.

This weekend, I began my quest in becoming a doula. For those of you who don't know what a doula is and are thinking that this means I'm going to become someone who raises 3 legged mythical creatures with wings or makes concoctions to heal the sick, I will explain what a doula is.

A doula is a woman who provides labor support to an expectant mother and her partner. She supports the mother during labor by suggesting various coping techniques and by providing constant emotional support. She also provides the expectant parents with resources and information so they can make informed decisions about their birth. The goal is to have a positive birth experience. There have been 15 studies done about the benefits of having a doula and all of them have concluded that having a doula present at a birth is very beneficial and helps ensure a healthy mom and a healthy baby. You can read more about the benefits of a doula here.

I've been studying about birth since I was pregnant with W. It quickly became a passion and while I was pregnant with CB, it almost became an obsession. After my birth experience with W, I was determined to have a better experience with CB and I read every book and went to every website possible to get every word of knowledge to make it happen for me.

With the help of a doula, the overall outcome of W's birth was what I wanted: a natural, unmedicated birth. However, his labor and delivery were filled with a lot of stress, a lot of intervention, and a lot of fear and rightfully so, as my little acrobat had managed to tie a true knot in his cord and had then managed to wrap the cord around his neck 3 times and his ankle once. He ended up being fine after he was born, but I was not. I was extremely upset by what had happened and I felt like no one listened to me or even cared about what I had just gone through. When I would tell his birth story, everyone would immediately say, "Well, he's fine and that's all that matters." But, that isn't all that mattered. I mattered too. It was my birth. My experience. My emotions. My reality. It happened to me.

In the days following his birth, after being bullied and treated poorly by people who are supposed to love and care for you, I shut down. The week after he was born was literally the worst week of my life. I couldn't enjoy my child and I didn't trust anyone. I felt so alone and so scared because here I had this little 5 pound baby who could have died and I was the person who was responsible for him. But I couldn't even take care of myself. How was I supposed to take care of him? Throughout all of this, the only person who I felt could truly empathize and understood how I felt was the doula who had attended W's birth. She was my saving grace and the person who kept me from going off the deep end.

Thankfully, CB's birth was amazing and what I needed to help heal from W's birth. With her birth, I was able to realize how sacred and special giving birth really is. After CB was born, I felt like I was in a place where I could stop being sad about W's birth experience and angry about how it had been robbed from me. I also realized how strongly I felt about my belief that every woman is entitled to a good birth experience and that I wanted to be someone to help facilitate this. That is when I started looking into becoming a doula.

This weekend of training was the most challenging and emotional process I have gone through in a long time. As we were listening to so many birth stories and watching so many birth videos, I started to realize how much trouble I really have with the American way of birthing babies. It has become such a medical procedure and women are treated like a sick person and a product and not the beautiful, powerful and strong beings that they are. Giving birth shouldn't be scary or feared. Instead, it should be celebrated and embraced.

I'm not saying that everyone needs to have a birthing candle and give birth in the middle of the forest. But I do believe that women need to have a calm environment to labor in. I believe that women should be supported and cared for by the people they love. However, I have a problem with the "spectator sport" that giving birth has become. Even if the mother isn't in pain and is feeling good, all of the attention should be on the her and the job she is doing. Giving birth, in any way, is hard work work. It bothers me when the mother's needs and desires aren't put first.

I also think it has become the standard to have a bad birth experience. The majority of women you talk to when you get pregnant are eager to share their horror stories. It's almost like they think that if they had a bad or hard or scary experience then you will or should have one too. This makes me sad for so many reasons but the main one being most of these experiences could have been turned out a lot better had the mother been educated about all her options and had the doctors let nature take it's course.

We are taught to trust our doctors, but sometimes they can do more harm than good. In 95% of uncomplicated births, the body knows what to do and, if allowed, can do its job without intervention. However, with a 30% and rising c-section rate, this is clearly not reflected in the States. The innate, instinctual aspect of giving birth has been taken away and replaced by a time clock. Women are no longer in control of their births. Their power has been taken away and this is what has made giving birth become such a scary and feared experience. If women were given their power back and allowed to feel that strength that so many women have felt before us, I firmly believe the state of giving birth in America would be so much better than it is. Please take note that I am not bashing doctors and I am not trying to say that doctors are stupid and don't know anything. They serve their purpose and it's a very meaningful and important purpose, especially when there is a real complication. What I am bothered by is the impression that all women are emergencies waiting to happen and that every woman needs to be monitored and "under control" at all times because there is going to be something wrong.

As hard as this training was to do, it is also the best thing I have ever done. I feel like I was born to do this. I now feel like there is a reason that I had to go through the hell of W's birth and that I can turn the negative energy I had into something positive to help others.

I could go on and on about this because it's such a passion of mine, but I will shut up. As I have said all of this, know that I am not judging any one's birth choices. Different people want different things and there is nothing wrong with that. I'm not trying to be a cause or a politician. It is just my desire that everyone have resources to educate themselves and to be supported during this poignant time in their lives.

If anyone has any questions about this, please email me. Also, if you live in my area and are pregnant or know someone who is and wants a doula at their birth, please PLEASE get my info. I need to attend at least 3 births to get certified. You would be helping me out so much and I would love to be able to return the favor by helping you or them have a meaningful and joyous birth experience.

the sands of time

Four years ago today, I was in a pizza parlor/ pub in Alexandria, Va, having my first drink in a bar. It wasn't by choice. My friends were ordering me shots and drinks for my 21st birthday, in hopes of getting me good and drunk. The guys thought it would be hilarious to make me do a shot of 151. They all thought I would gag and throw up, but I took it like a pro and didn't even have a chaser. I find it funny that I can down a shot of 151 with no problem, but cough syrup makes me gag and throw up. Their plan to get me drunk, failed however. I remember everything about that day and wasn't even slightly hung over the next morning as I started my new job in Washington DC.

Three years ago today, I was in Oklahoma, waiting in our tiny, smelly, temporary housing for my husband to come home from work. It was pouring down rain and we were poor. He gave me 2 CDs and a Barrel of Monkeys.

Two years ago today, I was in California. W was almost 3 weeks old and I was exhausted. I had just said goodbye to my husband, again, for 3 more months and I went out to lunch with my mom and my friend.

One year ago today, I was pregnant with CB and W and I were on a plane to Georgia to see my husband, who I hadn't seen or even talked to in two months. After W and I landed and picked up our rental car, I stopped at Cracker Barrel and filled up on some of their delicious food and amazing sweet tea. Then I drove to Ft. Benning, Ga, and got to see my husband. Four days later, W and I got back on a plane to CA and M got on a plane to Germany. We didn't see each other for 2 months after that.

Today, well, I'm in Germany with my two kids and my mom and a husband in Iraq. Today is nothing special to me. It just means I'm officially in my mid twenties. I'm not depressed about it but I'm not overjoyed, either. I've done a lot in my 25 years that I'm really proud of and I'm excited to see what the next 25 years bring. Who knows where I will be or what I will be doing on my next birthday.

My mom thinks we should be out celebrating but I don't really want to. So she says we need to at least celebrate the anniversary of the 36 hours of hard back labor she went through to bring me into this world. So, Happy Anniversary! Honestly, if I had gone through 36 hours of hard back labor and pushed this out,



I'd probably be asking for a refund. Thank goodness I've gotten better looking with age.

curses

Curses go out to all the people who discouraged me from taking German classes when I was in high school and college. They all said, "Don't take German, you will never use it. Take something you will use every day, like Spanish."

HA! Look where 2 years of high school and 2 years of college Spanish got me. Spanish doesn't help me when I want to buy sweet potatoes but don't see them in the store and want to ask for them. Spanish doesn't help me when I have to listen to the telemarketers and try to tell them I don't know the answers to their questions. And Spanish REALLY doesn't help me now when I can't figure out what kind of gas to put in my car and how to pay for it.

What I wouldn't give to already know how to count in German or say and understand the basics because I'm way too busy and distracted to learn them now.

finally

People have been telling me for months that I need to have a blog. A real blog. About my life and not about my babies. Although, lets be honest, how could I not talk about them non stop?? So, I've bitten the bullet and decided to start one. I'm not sure how many people will actually find it interesting as my life mainly consists of diaper duty, breast feeding and cleaning. Occasionally I get to go outside of my home to explore the great unknown that is Germany. But that is really quite rare. Maybe 1 or 2 times a week. And even then it's not like I'm exploring new ground. In the 7 months I have been here, I've only driven to 5 places. Well, I've been out more than 5 times, but I've only gone to those 5 places. Having 2 kids under the age of 2 just doesn't allow for much spontaneity.

So here's a little bit about me: I've been married to my husband for almost 3 years. We have 2 kids, W, who's currently 21 months and CB, who's currently 4 months. Yes, both of them were planned and we wanted them close together, so stop asking. Some tell me that by having children now, I have thrown my life away because my life before marriage and babies was so promising. I tell them to shut it.

Before I was married to the Army and had babies, I was a full time student and got my degree in Politics and Government and my almost degree in Psychology. I hated my college career. I will never go back. It sucks when you are smarter than most of the professors. After I got my degree and almost degree, I moved to Washington DC to work in the House of Representatives. That is what was so promising about my life. But I quickly found that I didn't want that life. Working 12-14 hours a day wasn't my thing. I'm too lazy for that. So instead, I put that life on hold until I could better handle the stresses and challenges. Not that being a full time mom is any easier!

Honestly, my life is full of stress. My husband is constantly gone and I am often left to take the role of mom, house cleaner, cook, and nanny alone. In the past 4 years, this is the longest I have lived in any one place. I don't speak German, nor do I read it, and I'm scared to death to drive on the autobahn. That makes life a bit difficult here. My life has been filled with drama galore, pain, heartache, laughter, tears, anger, pure rage, and unbearable, painful, and unconditional love.

One thing I have learned in the past few years is that if you don't have any expectations, you can't be disappointed when everything goes to hell. And, if something goes well, then you are pleasantly and happily surprised. That is why I have named this blog "No Expectations". It's become my coping mechanism and my life's motto.