Entering Protective Mom Zone

Well, here we are... 940 at night. I cant remember the last time I was in bed this early... too bad I am not actually in bed... I am currently taking up residence in Boo's room because of her fever. I am worried, I would hate not to hear her if she woke up in the middle of the night and needed me. And this way, when I wake up the millions of times I wake anyways (thank you Ivan) at least I can check to make sure she is okay.

Nothing is worse than a sick baby. It's sad. And it is scary because they can't tell you what is wrong with them so it becomes this guessing game of treating random symptoms and praying to God they don't end up throwing up! As of now she is sleeping soundly. Almost teasingly, tempting me to go to my own comfy bed, but mommies don't just go to sleep when their babies are sick... so... the floor (well the mattress on the floor) it is. I just hate that feeling you get when you look at them and they are all sad looking, when you get that feeling of "I wish it was me, not her" hit you... reminds me of the nicu days...

I am hoping that tomorrow she is feeling better. I had to postpone my "it's my birthday so i can celebrate it a week early if I want to" celebration... and I wont be doing it tomorrow; even if she is feeling better. Nobody likes to go out and do things the day after feeling like poo.... maybe monday... maybe tuesday and we can also celebrate hitting 30 weeks pregnant! woohoo! We will see... i may be a creature of habit, but I don't plan for anything!

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Take A Break

Well, here we are again... another late night, I am wide awake... it has officially become tomorrow, and I don't feel sleep coming anytime soon. I haven't had a whole lot of worth-while thoughts running through my head lately; everything has become very routine and my days just sort of fade in and out of one another. I mean, it is not necessarily a bad thing, but when I get into these robotic ways I feel like it means I am slacking on the children. I may be comfortable with cleaning floors, dishes, and doing laundry at the exact same time everyday, and spending spare time watching tv, crocheting, and sitting around the house; but these poor girls must hate it. I really need to find a way that we can still go do something without me breaking my rules for pregnancy. The beach is a no-no because walking in the sand is a workout so, I cant do that. The park would be okay if it didnt mean chasing Boo all over hell and back... getting the pool out and letting them swim in the ...

Im a Big Girl

There has been some conversation lately, about me being the primary contact during Steven's deployments. Primary contact is the person that is contacted in case of any situations that take place in theater (Afghanistan). If there was any type of injury, but he was okay, he would be able to call me himself, but if the injuries were extensive than they would notify me by phone on what is going on, what happened, and where he is located/headed to (medivac out of country, etc.) However if there was a casualty than I would be notified by the infamous movie-made-famous scene of the men in uniforms coming to knock on my door and ruin my life! So.... these are the facts. I have been married to this life for going on 9 years now... This is our 4th deployment, all combat deployments, and I have always understood the risk involved when my husband leaves us and heads out to do the job he has trained so tirelessly for. I have always known that he could be killed in action, or hurt, but I have n...

It's Contagious

Warning: to all you who dare befriend me. Deployment is apparently an incurable, horrible contagious, disease that you cannot protect yourself against; and I am carrying the bug. Or so it would seem. You know, I just don't get it... but I have seen it sooo much now. Your husband leaves and then your friends spread three sheets to the wind and avoid you like some type of plague. I hope that, at least some people, are smart enough to know that deployments are a scheduled thing, and it is not because you went near me that your husband picked up orders to ship out. Okay, in all seriousness though. I appreciate fair-weather friends about as much as root canals or cervical checks. But my time in the suck, as a Marine wife, has taught me some things. You can't sweat the small shit; and unfortunately in this world, some people fit that bill. Back when my husband was rocking one chevron and I thought friends were so important, I would waste so much time and energy trying to figure out j...

Mama Arty v.2.0

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