I have a confession.

I could totally write about how my little Cakes used the potty for the first time EVER today with his ABA therapist. It was awesome and exciting and many other adjectives of the positive nature. I could totally write about how husband being home for a mid-tour break from Asia kicked ass and magical memories were made and how badly it sucked when he left again. I could TOTALLY write about how I have consumed enough coca-cola for nine people in the last week, but I won't.

Today, friends... I have a confession.

When I was 13 or 14, I became obsessed (and I mean... stalker obsessed) with a band. I bought BOP magazines and I cut their pictures out and I hung them on my wall until two of my four bedroom walls were literally wallpapered with these people. I joined their fanclub. My entire pre-pubescent allowance was invested in listening to, looking at, reading about and watching this band. Not once, though, did they come in concert where I lived. My best friend bought their concert tape (YES, VHS, GET OFF ME!) and we watched it and screamed like we were there. We also laughed as we realized the lead singer had a dance that made it appear as though he had to pee whilst playing the keyboard standing upright. It was delightful. All of it.

So, two nights ago, I get a text message. My little sister, who was probably six at the time, tells me they're coming to town in concert. I contacted my BFF from the old days to tell her and we just bought tickets. That's right, friends.

WE'RE SEEING HANSON IN SEPTEMBER! 

This is where you stop judging me and just listen. I have waited fifteen years to see these people and I don't care that they look like girls or that they've since had 17 children each or that my husband shook his head at me during a FaceTime and said "Wow" when he really meant  "Yikes". You. Just. Stop. I don't care that I'm practically almost menopausal (if almost-30-year-olds are menopausal) or that I just spent $34 of my husband's hard earned money. This is happening and you can't stop it. I swear to everything holy, if they don't play MmmBop, I will kill myself.

Beanisms

I have to write down (i.e. copy and paste from my personal facebook) all the ridiculous stuff my six-year-old says before I forget and I have nothing to blackmail him with. Here we go... 

My sister's dog was just neutered last week. My eldest son, who is six, had some questions.
Him: Why is Aubie wearing that cone? 
Me: Because his boy part got cut off. 
Him: What?! I would die! 
Me: Well... he still has his wiener. They just had to cut off his balls. 
Him (totally serious, by the way): Are you sure his butt didn't swallow his balls? 

Me: (in traffic) Come on over, douche canoe! I'm surrounded by idiots! Oh... Don't say the naughty words mom says, kids!
Him: Then don't SAY them, MOM. 

Him: Mom... Don't speak Spanish.
Me: What? Why? 
Him: The new girl, Fernanda, doesn't know what the heck I'm saying. She takes her books out at the wrong time and I'm like hey! Wrong time, Fernanda! But she's like... Spanish. So, don't speak Spanish or you won't know what I'm saying. 
Me: BAHAHAHA!

Me: Do you like my new shoes, buddy? 
Him: Mom, you are so stylish. 

Him: Did you know there are people in this world that don't want kids?!
Me: Really? Why not?
Him: Because they buy cars with only two doors!

Him: Mom, you know what's really stupid? 
Me: No, what?
Him: People sleeping in [Asia] when they don't live there. 
Me: .....yes.

Him: Mom... it is not okay to poop in the bathtub. 
Me: .....????

Him: Guess what mom said I can say?
Sister: What's that?
Him: Oh my gosh!!
Sister: Oh my gosh?
Him: Yeah, like, OH MY GOSH WE'RE GOING TO DDDIIIEEE!!!!

Him: Look at this Halo (as in the video game) guy over here!
Me: Oh, that's cute!
Him: MOM. It is NOT cute. It's awesome... (Sigh)

Me: Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! Even though the sound of it...
Him: Stop!
Me: You don't think my singing is cool?
Him: It's beautiful, but it is NOT cool.

Me: It's time for bed, dude. Seriously. 
Him: I will sleep when my heart tells me it's tired!

PC Laptops Commercial: "... because we love you!"
Him: WHAT?! Fix 'puter guys don't love people! Uggggghhhhh!

Him: Were you little when you married dad?
Me: Little???
Him: Well, not little... medium sized? Were you?

Bean got a to-go style barf bag when we left the hospital after a minor surgery. He never used it, so I threw it away. Then this ensued...
Him: Can I eat the rest of my candy in bed? 
Me: No, I don't really feel like cleaning up your barf in the middle of the night. You can have a cheese stick or you can just go to bed. 
Him: Mooooommmm! I. HAVE. A. BARF. BAG. 
Me: I threw it away, you didn't use it!
Him: WHAT?! I never barfed in it! Seriously!?! I could have used that! 
Me: (blank stare)

Me: We aren't leaving your room until you've cleaned the whole thing. 
Him: Mom, you're annoying me.

Husband: Do you want some burrito? 
Him: Oh my gosh, I told you to stop speaking spanish!

I only scrolled back to December of last year, but I figured these were enough gems to get me through his first date. You're welcome.

The touchy subject...

I felt compelled to stand on my soap box about what seems to be a touchy subject. The one subject that can REALLY get me riled up is autism, but that's not what this is about. Today, I'd like to talk about my thoughts on the gay community.

Before you start sighing and huffing and puffing and virtually throat punching me, just wait a second. I'm came across a post today that a friend of mine had "liked" on Facebook  The post was a cartoon drawing of some one talking to God. The basics of were that the person was asking God if our country was being punished because of the gay community, but God said he was punishing us for how we were treating them. Out of sheer curiosity, I read the comments on this picture.

I'm sure any of you that have ever read a conversation between Christians and the gay community will know this turned out exactly the same. Those who either were gay or were supporters of gay were bashing the Christians and the Christians were bashing them right back, but using the Bible to do so. I'm kind of tired of this.

I was raised in  and practice the LDS Christian faith. Husband is also a Christian, but is not of the same faith as I am. We were both raised with the same basic beliefs, however and I think we both feel pretty similar on this subject. When it comes right down to it, I don't have a problem with people who are gay. One of my first bosses of my working career referred to himself (and I quote) as "gayer than a $2 bill". I'm still not really sure what that means... but he was rad. He was hilarious. He was a good boss and treated my coworkers and me fairly. I didn't look at him and think about what he did in his free time or who he loved and/or was in a relationship with. I saw him as a person.

I think Christians are too caught up on this subject. We're too busy worrying about how (insert adjective here) we think it is and aren't practicing what we preach. Am I going to advocate on capitol hill for gay marriage? Probably not... but that doesn't mean I can't love all of God's children regardless of their sexual orientation, race or otherwise. What, exactly, is the point of arguing about this? It sure as hell isn't Christ-like and posting a comment that is verbally abusive in either direction isn't really that great plea for your case. I'm also fairly certain that quoting the Bible isn't going to change a person's mind in that one instant because chances are, they've heard it before. This is a path they've chosen (this goes for both gays and Christians) and what you say to a complete stranger on Facebook isn't going to suddenly make them realize that you're right and they're wrong. Especially those comments that are negative.

I think that this can go for many things, if you think about. Gun control, politics, you name it. You won't change a troll's mind, so how about we all agree to disagree and stop wasting our time and energy on people you will more than likely never meet. You can't beat a dead horse. I guess you could, but it'd be pointless and therein is my point. Whether you're gay and/or support gays or you're a Christian who believes otherwise, it's not our job to force any agenda/opinion on those that don't want to hear it. Even in my own religion, the missionaries don't force doctrine down the throats of those who say they don't want to hear it. If they're told no, they move on. Why is the internet any different?

PEOPLE OF THE INTERNET!!! I hope we can just enjoy our own personal journey and improve ourselves for the better instead of arguing that everyone around us needs to be up to our personal standard. I have a different opinion than a lot of people on a lot of things, but I'll never tell you I'm right (even though I believe that I am). Worry about you. Your grass can be green if you take the time to tend to it.

Christmas from Asia

The last couple weeks have been a whole bunch of crazy. There have been ups and downs... as is life, isn't it? Since I am a woman, I like to blame the vast majority of my madness on my lady business. I mean, men think we're crazy, why not use it to our advantage? Am I right? Even though I think I am entitled to a little crazy now and then, I think a lot of people are giving me much more credit than I deserve.

A lady in my neighborhood, whom I'm told is dealing with her own demons anyway, has been overheard telling people how horribly I'm doing. I've spent a grand total of maybe ten minutes with this woman, but she knows me well... or at least she thinks she does. A friend of mine, whom this lady told I was doing so badly, assured her that I am fine. I'm more than fine... I'm doing pretty well considering the circumstances. She was insistent that I am not. 

So, yeah, Husband is deployed and this is our first Christmas apart. We've been married almost seven years so it's actually kind of a miracle we've skated it this long. Birthdays and anniversaries have been missed as well as a few less important (to me) holidays over the course of our marriage. This might be my first Husband-less Christmas, but it's not my first rodeo.

Luckily because Husband is in Asia instead of the desert, we can FaceTime everyday. We DO FaceTime everyday. The kids get to see him often enough that we don't really miss too much. Husband also got to watch our entire Christmas present-opening extravaganza this morning as you can see above (while I tried to get as many pictures amidst the chaos as possible). I had to stick The Wee in his high chair to save him from attacking Daddy until the big boys were done and then I opened all his presents for him because he didn't give a crap. Husband wasn't there physically, but he was there. He saw everything. He laughed at Bean's reactions and tried to get Cakes' attention when he started wandering or spacing out. He sent me a few things that I opened with just he and I alone in my bedroom, too. One of which was this...

It's a bracelet with puzzle pieces (signifying Cakes' autism, as does the autism awareness bracelet below it) that says "Warrior Mom". I opened it and I cried. He told me that I deserved it and that I was an amazing mom... which is something that, honestly, I long to hear most days when I'm running on empty. Even though I do run on empty sometimes, it doesn't mean I'm incapable. It doesn't mean I'm simply enduring instead of living. Sometimes I'm just exhausted being both mom and dad, but I really wish people would stop assuming that I'm doing so horribly.

There have been people who've lifted my spirits in small ways and I appreciate them more than they can know. I've had a couple people insist on taking my kids so I could have a night off. I've had the snow shoveled from my driveway. I've had treats delivered to my door on several occasions and every single one of them was both needed and appreciated. These little acts of kindness are what keep my spirits up and, in fact, keep me doing better than just "okay". Did I scream into my couch cushion a couple mornings ago when Bean was stressing me out? Absolutely. Twice. But sometimes, something like that is all I need to feel better.

I'm still human; I still need to complain sometimes or cuss at bad drivers or scream into my couch cushions, but I will persevere every single time. I might be a little bit crazy (I think most military spouses are to some degree), but I'm still kicking ass and taking names. What I'm trying to say is, don't underestimate me. Don't underestimate people like me. I'm doing better than you may think (or even more than my late night facebook statuses portray me to be) and even though I miss Husband more than I can even put into words, I will still run over a stroller any day of the week if I have to, to show you who's boss. Run and tell that.

Boys, dude. Boys.

Look how adorable my kids are, dude. I have to give a shout out to FotoFly for the super rad pictures and The Hippie Chick Boutique (who is also my rad friend and fellow military wife) for the super cute shirts that say "All I want for Christmas is Daddy home!". So much rad is wrapped up into this one little picture. And do I even have to mention the miracle that all three of them are not only smiling, but looking at the camera?! Amazing doesn't begin to describe it.

There is a HUGE part of me that is not only excited to have these, but relieved as well. Relieved, you ask? Well, let me tell you a little story.

A couple years ago, Bean (my oldest) fell and knocked his two front teeth on our kitchen floor. We didn't really think much of it. He got a bit of a bloody lip out of it and we hugged him and told him to walk it off and that was that. Sometime later (I'm not sure how much, really), his two front teeth started changing color. I just started brushing the crap out of them thinking it was bad brushing habits. His homies at school were pointing out the odd color of his teeth and I told him his friends were just jealous they weren't as awesome as he was... because that makes the most sense, right? Right.

Fast forward to a few days ago. I sent Bean off to kindergarten as usual. He is walked home by two older boys in the neighborhood from the bus stop everyday, but this particular day I hear a TON of kids at my door as I'm walking up the stairs from the basement to greet him. He's standing over the railing looking at me and 5 or 6 kids are frantically yelling unintelligibly over each other from my door. I look at Bean and notice a black spot in his mouth. As I get closer, I see one of his two front teeth (which were NOT loose, by the way - yes, I've been checking!) is MISSING. Not only is one of them missing, the other one looks like this...

That junk is hanging out, root and all. I yell, "WHERE IS YOUR TOOTH?! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR TEETH?!?!"

He calmly replies, "It got knocked out" as though it was an everyday occurrence. I finally get all the kids to take turns telling me what happened and from what I gathered, he was standing on the bus and got told by the driver to sit down. In the process of trying sit down, he slips and smacks his mouth on the seat in front of him and knocks the tooth out. No one knows where the first one went, but apparently it was pretty bloody and the bus driver stopped to clean him up.

I'm now faced with trying to figure out what to do about that wonky tooth. It was REALLY loose and the root was out on the one side. Ironically, I was in the process of getting our dental insurance in order. Since Husband is deployed, I have to fax in my Power of Attorney along with a bunch of paperwork, but haven't had anything finalized yet. Even so, I needed to see a dentist. I wanted to make sure his jaw was okay and see what needed to be done about all this.

I call a local pediatric dentist and of course, they're closed. Barely. The dentist's cell phone number was listed on the voice mail for emergencies, so I called him in a panic. He only answers "Hello?" and I had forgotten his name and had forgotten to write it down so I reply ridiculously, "Hi... umm... are you a dentist? Because I forgot your name already if you are.". Luckily he was cool and he laughed. I told him our story and he had us come in an hour later to check it out.

After some x-rays, laughing gas and an episode of Phineas and Ferb, Bean had his tooth pulled. Come to find out, the first smack he incurred on our tile when he was two or three had cracked both his teeth in half and the odd color they'd become was because they were dead. Yes, it's true. So, because of them being dead, they popped out easily during this exciting school bus adventure. Bean is only five and his adult teeth are nowhere near ready to come out, so the dentist guessed he'd be toothless for the next two years.

So, I guess he's going to be wanting his two front teeth for another couple of Christmases. He's pumped because his friend said he looks like a pirate... at least he's a cute pirate.

One Uppers

I don't know if you've ever met a military spouse, but we're a bunch of one uppers (most of us, anyway). I'm totally guilty of this nonsense, by the way. I've learned to take it down a notch over the last year or two, but I find myself regularly wanting to one up my very own friends when I sift through my facebook news feed.

It's not even on facebook that I have to bite my tongue. There are a bunch of very well-meaning ladies in my currently civilian-only neighborhood that try to sympathize with me and I find myself having an inner battle to keep my mouth shut. It usually has to do with how long our husbands have been away from us. Now, let me just clarify before I go offending people I know and love... If your husband travels regularly, I know you have an idea what I'm going through. Having no husband around when you actually like the dude is not the funnest junk ever. What I hate is the "Oh, my husband left for ten days once, so I TOTALLY know what you're going through!" type stuff. I have learned to not say it out loud, but here in the anonymity of the interwebs, let me just say... No. No, you don't.

Husband has been gone three months with nine months remaining on his stupid deployment to Asia. I knew this would come eventually. In his career field, it's inevitable. I just had hoped that after him being gone 200+ days a year for the last three years with the air demo team, that they'd let me see his face for longer than a few days before sending him off. In fact, we planned The Wee's pregnancy specifically around him leaving the air demo team so that he could actually watch one of our kids grow up. THANKS UNCLE SAM! YOU DOUCHE!

I just really wish I could stop even having these ultra lame thoughts of wanting... nay... needing to one up people. It's almost like all the hormonal rage I didn't explode all over people in my 29 years wants to come tumbling out of my mouth in one moment. It was at it's all time worst while I was pregnant with The Wee. My best friend's husband was deployed to Afghanistan (also while she was pregnant) and Husband was on a six week tour to Europe at the tail end of our three years of his never-ending travels. I had posted something like "Three weeks down, three to go" and she and I then had a super fun battle of one-upsmanship via my facebook wall. We worked through it, of course. We always do. I just look back and think, why was I arguing with a woman who was about to have her third child without her husband being present while he was in the middle of the desert? Husband was in EUROPE, but I was arguing that I'd had it worse because Husband was gone cumulatively longer than hers. What?! In hindsight, I am really dumb.

So, let's turn my idiocy into a public service announcement, shall we? If you ever run into a military spouse (or you are one who is dealing with another who is like me), just know that she probably doesn't intend on one upping you. If she has even the smallest conscience, she probably also feels bad while doing so or perhaps even after the fact. Sometimes we crave a pat on the back for doing hard stuff alone and go to great (and stupid) lengths to get it. So, pat a military wife on the back sometime. Instead of saying "Oh man, that must be hard for you", say "You are rad. Seriously." and you'll have made her day. Bring her some cookies. Take her kids for a couple hours. Invite her to a girls night out. Just don't give her an opportunity to one up you if you like her even a little bit because chances are, she will take it.

Adorable. Freaking adorable.

This is Bean. He is five. Today I'm going to share with you the ridiculously adorable (but mostly ridiculous) things he says wrong, but I don't have the heart to correct. I know that someday he will be all big and smelly and teenagery, so I'm choosing to cherish this junk as long as possible.

I'm going to have to spell the incorrect words phonetically... both because they aren't real words and so you can get the idea of what it is he's saying. There are a few cute phrases as well. Here we go...

1. Brave-orite (Favorite): "Batman is my brave-orite!"
2. Moozed (Used): "I moozed the crayons at school."
3. Zizzors (Scissors): "I need to cut with the zizzors."
4. Nember (Remember): "I nember him from my old school."
5. Tah-got (Forgot): "I almost tah-got my coat."
6. Reg-yer (Regular): "I want some reg-yer milk." (as opposed to chocolate milk)
7. Mame (Name): "What's your mame?"
8. "I don't know idea."
9. "I don't want to listen to Christmas season right now!" (Christmas music)
10. Mare-cuh (America): "Look at this Captain mare-cuh!"

I know there are a couple more that he says that crack me up, but my brain stops working after 9 PM, of which it is. I will correct him soon... but let me enjoy this for a minute! Jeez.