Countdown neurosis

In the interest of fairness and honesty I must confess that the ticker at the top is not when I will actually see TED. It is when he will begin his journey back to the United States. His team's journey will be filled with multiple stops that are, of course, top secret. I don't know how many there will be or how many days each will consume. I do know that in six days my husband will be getting the hell out of dodge, as he likes to say. In six days I won't have to worry about him being wounded or worse. He will be (for the most part) extremely safe. I must also say that I do know about when he will be back into the base he deployed from (hint: it is in the single digits).

And now free of coherent transitions and thoughtful segways here are some of the things I have been wanting to post about but haven't gotten around to it..

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I have purchased so many different pieces of clothing for the homecoming that it is bordering on absurd. I have something for if it is hot/cold/freezing/sort of warm/sunny/rainy/morning/noon/ middle of the night. What is particularly alarming about this is I have these combos for both LM and myself. That makes for a lot of luggage- and yes, I know that it doesn't really actually matter what I am wearing but that is SOOO not the point. Factor in the two weeks worth of clothes we will need while he finishes the Warrior Transition Program, the clothes we needed to bring for 3M's return to the land of civi's, the toys, pack and play, and seventy pound footlocker we have to bring with us and I might as well rent a U-Haul. I can't shake the vision of the Beverly Hillbillies arriving to town for the first time.

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In a bit of horrendously annoying indecisiveness I emailed the amazing Whoorl because I could not figure out what to do with my hair. It is currently quite long and I have been toying with the idea of cutting it for so long, talking about it so much and changing my mind so frequently that my closest friends and family REFUSE to discuss it with me anymore. Amazingly, Whoorl agreed to help (sorry for the super close up shot of my large nose and unwaxed eyebrows (note to self: when submitting pictures of yourself they should probably be half-way decent)). Needless to say I was thrilled when she and so many of her wonderful readers (thank you by the way for commenting and stopping by) told me 1) that I had nice hair (it was a they like me, they really like me moment for sure!) and 2) that I should leave it long and bust out the curling iron. Thank goodness for Whoorl and Hair Thursday's. My hair and all of my friends thank you :)

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If one more person says "are you so excited that your husband will be coming home soon" to me I think I may smack them. Now, before everyone thinks that I am a horrible, heartless person I must admit that if I were in their shoes I would most likely say the same thing AND I totally understand where they are coming from; it is a natural and reasonable question. In fact, it is so natural and reasonable that I believe I have answered "Yes, I can't wait" 584269723017832580 times since last week. I am so unbelievably tired of that question. Just once I want to say "Actually not really, it is going to substantially cut into the time I spend with my boyfriend and that bums me out". That of course, would be totally inappropriate but the looks I would get would be priceless and 3M would totally think it was hysterical.

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Because I am partially insane I have decided to attempt a post about the things I have learned over the past year of this deployment. I am striving for 100 things and I think I may actually be able to complete it. My goal is to have it up by next Sunday. I can't promise that it will be funny or poignant but it will be honest. I hope that someone, somewhere will be able to laugh or cry along as I try to enumerate the countless emotions and experiences that have marked the past 365 days.

Peek in the window

After getting rained out of our afternoon walk Logan and I went to the package store to pick up some milk. We took three steps into the store and Logan D.E.M.A.N.D.E.D. to be put down. Because he was screaming in the middle of the store and the only people besides he and I not in uniform was the cashier I obliged. He, surprisingly, took my hand and walked down the aisle. He walked straight down the aisle to the beer case and screamed his head off when I wouldn't allow him to open the case and, oh I don't know, take out some of the beer. After finally wrangling him back in my arms, he attempted to dive bomb straight to the floor and I was thisclose to dropping him all while the man in front of me took his sweet ass time figuring out if he was going to purchase the Marine Corps Times and which method of payment he was going to use on this very special occassion, where he found himself buying a soda and a bag of chips. Needless to say there was copious amounts of staring and probably an increase in condom sales at this particular package store this afternoon.

Open Letters

Dear API students,
I am sorry that while you were in formation our stroller was being attacked by a killer dragon fly and therefore I was running and flailing in six million directions causing you to lose focus and laugh which caused you to get screamed at by a drill instructor. I hope that said drill instructor remembered to brush his teeth this morning. Sorry.

Dear Across the street neighbor,
I am very sorry that you are getting a divorce. It must suck to have your wife leave you with three children. However, do you think it would be possible for you to go inside once and a while inside of sitting on the weight bench in your garage watching TV with your friends who's cars have incredibly loud stereos that turn on right outside of LM's window? I am sure you have a perfectly nice couch somewhere in your house.

Dear neighbors who live next door to the across the street neighbors,
Hi, how are you? Good I hope. I know that you have very stressful jobs, what with being a stripper and a bartender at a strip club, but do you think it would be possible for you to mow your lawn, oh I don't know, sometime this year?

Dear check out lady at Wal-mart,
Yes, I do have a picture of my husband on my necklace. Yes, he is in Iraq. No, I don't want to hear your ridiculous opinion about the state of our government or how you think that Rosie O'Donnell says it best when she describes why we shouldn't be in the war; I want to pay for my stupid groceries and go home before I smack the ever-loving shit out of you.

Dear Forrest Gump of my town,
It is really nice that you run down the main highway everyday and give people the peace sign. That is a great idea. Just curious, don't you ever get tired and just want to take the bus, oh and what kind of sneakers do you where because clearly I should get myself a pair because they must provide excellent cushioning and support?

Beep, beep

At 4:45 this morning I was awoken by the sound of a beep. It was a weird, not very loud beep. It didn't scare the pants off me or make me jump from the bed like the burglar alarm would but there it was again, a beep. I laid in bed in a semi-conscious state and listened for the noise again.

Crap, I know what that beep is! It's the stupid beep on the smoke detector telling us lowly house dwellers that it is time to change the battery. You know the beep, it is the one that doesn't turn off until you do as it requests. The last time this happened it was the middle of the afternoon and I was completely perplexed as to how to fix this problem; not this time though. Ha, stupid smoke alarm you thought you had me- how wrong you are I have learned lessons, I can solve problems. This time I shall go to the hall closet get a battery, change you and head back to bed.

I moseyed my way to the hall closet, turned on the light and got the package of batteries. Half way back I realized I had the wrong kind of batteries. That's right stupid smoke alarm I am smart, you need a 9-volt battery. So off I went back to the hall closet to get a 9-volt battery. I opened the door, looked around. No 9-volt battery!

As the beep continued I had a thought; one of LM's toys must use a 9-volt battery. So I traipsed myself into the sunroom, turned on the light and began sifting through the freaking toys. No, not you Winnie; no, you won't help either computer; no, blocks don't have batteries. Dinosaur toy... thanks anyway.

Okay, no batteries there. Ah ha, there is a battery in the keypad on the outside of the garage door. Shit, that means I have to go outside. That also means that I have to put real clothes on, you know, just in case one of my neighbors is out unscrewing things from the outside of their home at 5 in the morning.

I got dressed, headed for the garage to get a screw driver, opened the front door and ran like hell with the phone in my hand just in case I had to call 911 because someone was waiting outside my door because they knew that I would be unscrewing batteries from the wall at precisely 5:00am walked to the garage and unscrewed the face plate to get the battery. Battery in hand- Take that stupid smoke detector, I'll show you.

I hopped up on a chair, pulled out the beeping battery and put in the new one. I was now officially the smartest woman I know (clearly, I have very low standards). I walked back to get in bed, was two steps from hopping in,

BEEP, BEEP.

You have got to be kidding me. This can not be happening. Ok, I can handle this. After all I am an adult who is facing a measly smoke detector. I have an idea; I shall unplug the entire thing from the wall. I grabbed the chair again, reached for the smoke detector, unplugged it from the wall, put it on the computer desk, walked to the bed,

BEEP, BEEP.

Ok, seriously you are UNPLUGGED! How in the hell can you still be beeping? This is not happening. As I sat on the edge of the bed teetering awfully close to a meltdown I realized that I should just give up. I am an adult, a bona-fide grown-up. I have been raising a child on my own for almost 10 months. If I can do survive a deployment surely I can force myself to ignore the beeping and go back to sleep. Yes, that is what I will do; like a Jedi-mind trick.

I re-plugged in the smoke detector closed the door to prevent some of the beeping noise from infiltrating my room and climbed into bed. I was pumped, I could do this- I could will myself back to sleep because by God I was an adult.

No beeping.

No beeping at all.

Totally stopped beeping.

Figures.

No Go

The offer is a no go. After much discussion 3M and I have decided that we would both feel better moving after he returns; well really he would feel better and it is kind of hard to tell your husband, who is currently living in a bombed out building in Fallujah, that you don't agree.

We did make a counter offer to our buyer , who is a single man moving here from Atlanta (Hey Darrell, how are you???) in hopes of saving the deal. We asked him to wait until December and offered money towards his living expenses payable at closing. My realtor and his realtor said it was an "enticing offer" and they thought we would be able to work something out.

Darrell said no. He said he didn't want to wait that long.

Why, Darrell? Our offer is enticing!!!! Didn't you listen to your realtor (who by the way was slightly creepy and used a contract that hasn't been used in our county since 1995)?? Your realtor is a smart man; you should listen to him! You are a single man. You can live anywhere for a few months. We are going to write you a check, a real live actual check, just for waiting a few extra weeks. But no... you have to be Mr. difficult. Perhaps I really should call you Mr. WTF. Instead you are going to keep looking and see if you can find something else and if you can't then you will "re-visit" our offer.

Fine, be that way.

While you are out crushing my dreams of having a bigger house with a pool looking at other houses I would like you to remember a few things:

You can totally see the water, from the backyard. Dude, you will not find that in other neighborhoods. That and the grass is expensive as hell to maintain green, really green.

There are no stupid chick colors in this house, so as to prevent your stupid fragile male ego from having to pee in a pink bathroom. You are welcome!

I planted flowers!!! Do you have any idea how much I hate planting flowers?!?!?!

Offer part two

Also known as currently Erin is having a panic attack because she is a TERRIBLE waiter and she is trying to talk to her husband about this while he is, oh in a warzone. Umm, so yeah.. feeling quite stressed out about this whole house thing and he is not answering emails; doesn't he know this is more important that what is going on in Iraq. Tisk, tisk.

We counter offered Mr. WTF and he came back with another offer. This new offer has a really good price but he wants to close November 1st.

Closing November 1st is giving my heart burn. Not hearing from my husband is giving me heartburn. Writing about this on the internet as if I will somehow jinx it.. you guessed it, giving me heartburn. (On a sidenote, I don't know if it is exactly giving my heartburn because I don't know that I have ever had heartburn but it is giving me something that isn't so fun).

So, currently we have an offer on the table, to which they want a yes or no. They do not want a counter offer. I am feeling a bit overwhelmed at the prospect of arranging and conducting a move all by myself and my husband is currently MIA. That and LM has been sleeping for almost three hours!!!

Holy Sh*t- update below

My realtor is coming by with an offer for our house....

More to come

UPDATE:

Change that to WTF were these people thinking. Over 30k less than asking price and they want to move in by the 15th... OF THIS MONTH.

Not so much.. wish us luck as we counter-offer.

Light at the end of the tunnel

Today was one of those days. LM is still struggling with the one nap thing, also referred to as you were the one who decided to wake up when you are still tired so why are you taking it out on me thing. Most days he is still taking two gloriously long two hour naps and going to bed at 7:30. All is right with the world on two nap days.

Today was not a two nap day.

I was about ready to throw myself out a window after having to ask him to get out of the refrigerator for the eighty billionth (yes, that is a number) time in two minutes. Or wait, was it after the throwing himself against the cabinets while screaming "kaaakaah" (cracker for those of you non-LM speakers) six gazillion (again, a number)times. Oh no, it must have been one of the twenty hundred (amazing you with my math skills aren't I) times when he brought me over a book to read and then head butted me as he got up and walked away while I was trying to read the FIRST page to him. No.. it was one of the five catrillion (would it frighten you to know that I was once an algebra teacher) times when he kept throwing his food to the dogs and then screaming "nonono" when I took his plate away from him, and then giving it back to have him repeat it all over again.

Definitely one of those days when bedtime could not have come soon enough. In honor of his joyous mood and exceptional behavior he even went to bed a 7:00- praise the lord!!!

After I unwound and I stifled my desire to drink an entire bottle of wine I decided to look at the website for 3M's next assignment, which is a Resident PME program- short-version he is going to a military college in order to have the courses necessary to be promoted.

While cracking the hieroglyphics, also known as the academic calendar, I learned that 3M would not have to go to class for half of June, ALL of July, and most of August. How amazingly wonderful is that!!!

So, I am feeling a little better. Now, if you wouldn't mind could you please say a prayer that tomorrow is a TWO nap day that involves little to no refrigerate expeditions, cabinet raiding and food throwing.....

Anxiety.. It's what's for dinner

LM and I are flying to my parent's on Wednesday.

There are many, many things about that statement that are giving me anxiety, in mass quantities.

1. The last time LM and I flew there was copious amounts of mind-numbingly loud, gawd-awful embarrassing, want to jump out of the emergency exit screaming.Only some of it was coming from me. And, no I am not exaggerating.
2. Our flight is at 0630. What in the hell was I thinking, signing us up for a flight that early.
3. I have no choice but to drive us and all of our stuff to the airport at the butt crack of dawn.
4. Do you have any idea how much stuff I have?
5. I have way too much stuff (little man, suitcase, car seat, wheel attachment thing that makes the car seat a stroller, carry one bag, my sanity) that I need to figure out how to get out of the car, into the airport, through security, onto the plane, off of the plane, through the Atlanta airport, onto another plane, off the plane, and out of the airport.
6. re-read number 5.
7. No seriously, did you re-read number 5.

Hold me...