Any Given Sunday

To the sounds of a baby yelling in the monitor is how I was awaken this morning at 0630.  As I slowly peel myself out of the bed to hit snooze on my natural alarm, I noticed how beautiful the morning was already.  My first thought was, at least the sun is out already, which meant that I got to sleep in a little later than usual.  My second thought brought to my attention of what day this really is.  Not only is it the start of football, but it's the 10th anniversary of 9/11.  One would have to be in a complete bomb shelter for a month not to know what this Sunday means to America.  My reflection was shortly interrupted by the squeals of my two older children coming down the stairs to say good morning and greet me with with hugs and smiles.  Soon I was feeding the youngest of my brew while the other two were snuggling on the couch watching Sunday Morning cartoons.  Eventually my husband came out to fetch the Sunday paper and sat down on the couch with me armed with the elixir of the day and a smile and a kiss to warm my heart.  There we were, Americans celebrating the very essence of what is to be American.

As we read the paper, a thought struck me about what today really means.  The sun was shining, the sky was blue and my family was just doing what we do any given Sunday this time of year.  We were enjoying each other, and well, waiting for Football to start.  All through the paper and all through the TV are stories and thoughts that will truly break the hardest of hearts.  Though my heart breaks every day for the loss so many suffered that day, I wonder if those lost would want us to respect this day through mourning, or celebrating who we are as Americans.   In places such as New Orleans, they celebrate the life of a lost one through parades and wonderful, lively wakes, instead of mourning through tears and seclusion. I believe they have something they we all should embrace.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying don't respect the lost of such a day and of those that gave so much to help others, but defy the acts of such horrible people whose true goal was to take away what we hold dear as Americans.  They wanted to take away our Freedom; but the truth is, though with many changes, we are still free.  We are rebuilding, we are still living.  We still have the freedom to make our own decision, whether bad or good.  Today my family still has the freedom to enjoy Sunday cartoons, drink coffee, read the Sunday paper and wait for 1200 (CET, of course) to kick off Sundays in the NFL.  What better way to celebrate us as Americans, than to enjoy a purely American past time with family.  TO tell the truth, after living all over the world and immersed in so many cultures, there is nothing like being an American, in America.  It is what my family, my husbands family, myself once, and my husband, who still wears the uniform, choses to do so as Americans.  We chose to be American.

So, on any Given Sunday, nothing in our schedule today would have changed.  However; it's these simple acts that spark a remembrance to all those lives lost on both that fateful day and the many years after.  I shall say a prayer to all those affected through the years, then turn around, hold on to my family and be thankful that I have the freedom to celebrate them.  We know what happened yesterday, so lets hold on to what we have today.  Shed a tear, dry it, then live the life we are given.  As for today, I shall put on my #40 Alsott jersey, eat food that is just not good for me, watch my team whop up on Detroit, and then later, walk to the park as a family and enjoy the valuable time we have.  How will you remember?  As for now, pre-game is on.  GO Bucs!!!!  Enjoy this very Given Sunday.

There goes my cub

Well, I did it.  I let my little Baby Cub walk to school all on her own and I stayed home.  Now before you laugh and go "Well, Mom, she is in second grade!", let me just say...have you met my daughter?  If there are tulips to pick, she will have a fist full.  Most of the time, she skips crossing the street watching the birdies fly by, not even hearing the car roaring towards her.  But, I did it.  I let her go.  Was I ready for it?  Are you kidding?  I was a nervous wreck until I picked her up that afternoon.   Which, by the way, she had so much fun walking to school, it's all she talked about on the way home.  I always knew that one day she would wave me off.  Still doesn't make me happy that it's already here.  I was hoping for a few more years.  I guess it comes with the sassy mouth and the "I can do it!" attitude.  It also comes with a long list of 'don't do's' and 'watch out out for this.'  Of course I always get back, "Moooommm, I know that..."  She has always been an independent child, but there are still moments of wanting her Mommy and Daddy.  She came down thirty minutes early this morning to cuddle with us while we watched the news.  Then at the magical hour of seven, up she goes.....Super Shelby.  Just like that...she's gone, my baby girl.  What am I going to do when she leaves the nest for good?  Probably hold onto the boys even harder and cry.
Watching my children grow is such a mixed blessing.  Yes, I am blessed that my children are here and healthy and that they have this wonderful opportunity to grow and live; however, there's the part of my that asks, "why does it has to happen so fast?"  Her growing independence does help me when it comes to the other two.  It lets me concentrate on them a little bit more.  I have to go through this two more times.  Though my little Monkey may be the one I really need to worry about.  But, for now that baby cub is calling for me.  Off to my Den...

Ah, my Blog. There it is.

Father forgive me, for I have sinned. It has been well over a month since I last blogged. It once was lost, but it's found....somewhere in the muddled of 10 crates of many boxes. It sat and patiently waited for me. Finally, I found it.
We made it!!! We left Germany on the 17th of June; spent three weeks Rambling through the East Coast and now on our third week of trying to make our very cheaply made house, I might add, into a temporary home. So far so good, but I am waiting for the roof to collapse on us.
As for our three week trip, the shock of America took us by more of a surprise than we thought. First off, let me say that I can now give my opinion on which states on the East Coast have the best and worse highways. I now know where corn is grown, and I am now not so sure about driving behind this gigantic machines they call trucks. I am now, and was about three weeks ago, completely tired of chain Resteraunts for awhile, and totally in love with my bed. I have learned how resilient children all, tantrums and all. I have learned what patience really means. My children are still alive and my husband and I are still married. Oh, and I haven't kicked the dog either. Guess what? I get to do this all over again in ten months.
As for now, the blitz we call summer vacation is over and our daily lives begin. Yes, school has officially started and its time for mundane routine to take hold. I must admit, I'm looking forward to a bit of a routine. This family seems to run better off of it. Even Mikey is going to bed without a fuss and both boys are sleeping through the night. It's my little gift from God. He's a forgiving God. Oh, and so just to let y'all know, I've really haven't shopped that much. I think here is something wrong with me.


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The time has come.

Well here it is. All that is left is the suitcases we each have a possession of. Everything else is gone and with only the hope that we will see our belongings on the other side. We have had our last weekend here and we are saying our farewells. It's time to move on. It's been a great three years, and now looking back it has gone by so fast. We now sit in an empty house, just waiting. The waiting is killing me. I'm thankful we get to leave Germany just at the beginning of Biergarten season (that would be the beginning of summer). We leave on a good note. Three more days of school and four more days until we fly. it seems so surreal. Wow. We are going to be home by the weekend.
Today we fly. My excitement has been taken over by sentimentalism. I now find myself sad to leave. We have meant some wonderful people here and my kids have had the experience of neighborhood friends. It's a good time to go, as almost everyone is leaving this summer. As I leave my friends here, I return to the States to see friends from duty stations past. Seems as if I must say good-bye to say hello. My heart is filled with warmth from the experience we have had here. I loved the small town feeling and I'm sad to think this experience is a rare treat. As the sun rises on our last day here, I bit Germany farewell. It's time for the newest adventure. Goodbye and thanks for the memories.

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My little Monkeys.

First point of business: there will spelling errors in this blog as I am typing with a pseudo keyboard that has a mind of it's own. I'm also typing this while distracted very easily from this cute, but annoying little red monster and two little monkeys. Which brings me to the point if this blog.
When did my eldest son go from a baby to a boy? Just recently my little Monkey has discovered his whole meaning of existence. He is waking up in the middle of the night drenched in pee because he insists that what we like to point south, must, at all cost, point north. He has been caught standing in front of the tv and computer, pants around his ankle, engrossed in his new toy. I know this is quite a normal process, but that doesn't make me any more ready for it. Of course when asking some of my friends for advice, I seem to get the standard answer; "oh my son never did that". I believe there are some mothers out there in denial. It wouldn't bother me so much if he would just leave it alone at night so we aren't changing him and his bed sheets in the middle of the night. He is still in diapers, but we have, more than once, got him up in the morning, shorts on, but mysteriously diaper on the floor. He is fully aware what that appendage is for, as he likes to remove all articles of clothing from the waist down as soon as there is a bit of waste product. That includes the departure of a most fowl waste product from his body. I have already had to throw away some sheets Of course he refuses to produce that waste in a potty, but insists that will be properly disposed of in his current receptacle. I guess at this point, patience is a virtue.
At the opposite spectrum, my other little monkey has me in complete awe. While giving him a bath the other night, he was quite intrigued by a cup. I sat there and watched him maneuver this very simple object with all four of his extremities. I was amazed how he was using his feet as two more hands. It truly reminded me of a little monkey. It was such a basic instinct and had me just mesmerized. It's such a 180 from Mikey that I can't believe these two monkeys related. Go figure.
The one they thing they have in common is their ability to soak anything put on the bottom half of their bodies. Shoot, it doesn't stop there. It travels as far north is it can creep. Non-the-less, they,and I, all smell the same. I don't think it matters which way it points. Again, it's a basic animal instinct that stays with them no matter how hard we try to tame it. Goes to show you, no matter the age and no matter the direction, the target seldom gets hit.


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The Heart

I really think the most important organ in the body is the Heart.  It is what separates Humans from all Animal Kingdom.  This simple ten ounce organ is what makes us laugh, cry and everything in between...and sometimes all at the same time.  It lets us soar to new heights we only dreamed of.  It is also easily torn with only the hope of a repair.  Without our heart, we would not live.  As I approach the wonderful age of thirty-seven, I look back at what my heart has given me.  The passage of time has not weaken the rhythm it beats, only has strengthened it, only the tempo changes.   That ever-changing tempo is what keeps us alive.  
Today the tempo is a Malincònico.  Last week a good friend of mine got some very distressing news.   This now entails a fast flight back to the states sooner than was planned and there is along road ahead for her and her family.  Though I was fine this past week, after visiting her today, I realized how much my heart aches for her.  I want to return back to her house and tell her. "I'm not fine.  I'm pissed!  This should not be happening to you!"  However, I want to be strong for her as well.   It was my heart that today let me cry and made me realize how much a care for this wonderful person and I am so thankful to call my friend.  
I look back, and I realize that in only the last ten years,  I have lost many friends, and many members of my family, and I'm scared I'm about to lose another one.  Just this week, a building, to the post we will be moving to, was dedicated to friend lost last year.  This same week, I realize that I may lose another friend, all in the prime of their lives.  At the same time, my heart has never been so full as when I held each one of my babies today.     It is the heart that says, you will love and you will lose, but you will always love again. One can only pray that the wound heals sooner rather than later.  My heart tells me to be strong for my friend, then, when everything is quiet, cry until I can't cry anymore.  Now my heart needs to tell my brain how.   It's my brain that tells my heart that my pain is not even to scale as the pain her family is feeling right now.  In the end, it's the heart that will give us the courage to smile through the tears.   It's the heart that makes us live.  But for now, my day must continue and my heart must go on.  I have my little heart strings to gather up..yep and one is pouting.  

Where to begin....

...That is the question.  I have been off the net for awhile for good reasons.  In exactly a month from now my family and I will be on a plane heading back to the states.  We will all miss Germany, but we have to admit...we are Americans, through and through.  Yes, we are "Convenience Consumers" and appreciate begin able to run errands to the store on a Sunday.  We have been overheard saying that we miss our Lowes run through daydreaming about our Forever House.  How nice will it be to enter a store, or many different stores, and find a sale and items that you initially went into the store to acquire.  So often, we go the many PX's in the area, and not one of them has a simple item that we need, or if they do, it's a lot more than what we are willing to spend.  Target and Kohl's, watch out because here comes the Nagy Family.
Now there is great food in Europe, and we have enjoyed it immensely; but I'm dying for some real BBQ and a truly authentic Cuban sandwich.   I love American food!!  I want a big, juicy American steak with a big American size potatoes.  Both, one can't get here, even at the commissary.  They just don't carry the cuts of meat or the big Idaho potatoes.   Let's not even go into the restaurants.  Cracker Barrel, Chick-fil-let, IHOP (go figure), and yes, I will say it...even Chuck-E-Cheese.  You know, all those places that have created the mass epidemic in the USA.   Moderation, that's all I will say.
I'm looking forward to finding a place to take my kids on a rainy day that doesn't cost a whole paycheck.  There are museums, libraries, pools and all the wonderful places that let the kids explore and let their imaginations roam.  Don't get me wrong, there are places to take the kids here, but tickets to anywhere are practically the same price as the adults, and so are the menu prices for that matter.  It seems as if the USA is more kid friendly than Europe.   It will be nice to go into a restaurant, or a venue without stares from the staff because I have three kids..which by the way is an anomaly here.  "Drei Kinder?!"  We hear that a lot.
However, as I look around my empty house, or sleep on my very uncomfortable german mattress, I begin to appreciate the experiences  I have had here.   For Starters, you can't beat the Flea (Floh) Markets here.  Cheap cheap cheap!!  The bike paths and outdoor places are outstanding.  The public transportation's better than any other I have experienced.  The food, well, I have put on a few pounds for a reason. The crime rate, so much lower.  The indoor swimming pools, parks in their own right (though expensive).  Garmish and the Alps....I will miss.  The experiences my family have had, irreplaceable.   Then there are the Christmas Markets and the Fests.  But in the end, I wouldn't give up my home in the States.  I know, from experiences, if one looks around, one can find similar experiences in their own backyard.  There is SO MUCH in the Sates still left for us to explore and we are looking forward to it.
In the end, truth be told, I just want be able to walk into a store and find sandals for my kids and clothes in the season we are currently in and not for $40 for shoes and $30 for outfits.  I want my SALES!!!  Yes, I could go on the economy..H&M is my favorite, but with the exchange rate, it is so expensive. I want to find clothes for my American Size body.  It seems European women and men are supposed to be stick then.  And apparently, Europeans will pay 50E to 60E for a pair of kids shoes and they go up in price depending on the size.
Finally coming to my point of the ramble is this; in the end, we are Americans, and we love the American way of life.  We live for the BBQ's in the backyard and hanging out with family and friends.  We love the connivence and the family friendly environment.  I'm proud to me and American and God Bless my American Family both here and at home.   It's no wonder the flight we are taking back to the states is called the Patriot Express.
I FORGOT THE MOST IMPORTANT THING!!!!  Sports during the day!!!!!  Sundays in this family..BIG DEAL!!!  NFL better get their stuff straight before next season.  I want to see the 1PM game at 1Pm, not at 7Pm and see the game I want too...well that's if its not blacked out.   And Jay is all about the 10 months of Baseball...can't wait to hear the sound of a ball game on TV...during the day.
Get ready, because here we come!!!!

So we were talking...

The other night at BUNKO, us women folk were sitting around playing, sharing some wine and a topic of conversation came up.  Now mind you, I'm probably the "young" one of the group and my friends are all in their 40's.  We all have Elementary school age children and are Stay at Home Mom's.; we all started out with careers.   There was a time when we did spend a lot of time, and money primping ourselves up.   Of course, that was long gone when the second, or third child came along.  Now, as I wrote before, we are all lucky to make it out of the house with our teeth brushed.  We seriously are at the point when we comment on someone's hair, thinking they just got it done, when really, they just washed it and brushed it..may even took a blowdryer to it.  SO the question is, when do we stop spending money dying our hair, shelling out dough for makeup we hardly wear and just be comfortable with who we are and age the way God intended us to.   A few of us even have husbands that have already said they would fork out the money for any kind of "job" we requested to partake our body in.  The generation before us started the Womens Liberation movement, and yet it's that generation we see trying to stay young...for the most part, not all of y'all out there.  It could be that this is a conversation that EVERY generation has around this time.  We don't know.  Is it because my generation embraced the Women's Liberation movement, began with a career, then later in life settled down and had a family.  Now we are women in our late 30's early 40's with young children and minivans while the generation before us were basically booting out the kids about this same time.  Now I'm not saying "yeah" to totally letting ourselves go, but why is such a bad thing to let nature take it's course.  Why is it that there seems to be such an emphasis on trying to stay looking young when it's noticeably obvious that one is getting older?  What is wrong with letting one's hair take it's natural course, wearing makeup when needed and not having to fight to get into those size two jeans that were so good BEFORE the children helped develop ones body into a more womanly form.  I've dyed my hair for over 20 years and I finally stopped after my third baby.  You know what, I was pleasantly surprised at how much I actually like my natural color..now that I know what it is.  There is gray in it, but I will be 37 soon. I should have gray in it.  As for makeup, I try to put a little on when I can, but I take care of my skin and I like to let that show along with the wrinkles.  As for those size 2 jeans..I threw those out after Mikey, and just now threw out the size four..now I'm a size 6 and I'm thankful for that.  I could go and spend precious time in the gym and yes, I would get back down to a pre baby body (though never the exact same), but I had children for a reason, and my time is valuable with them.  Now I'm not saying totally become a couch potato, I do walk, but it's always with a stroller in front of me and a promise of a park at the end.  So I'm not getting any skinner, but I'm not getting any fatter either.  I mean, parts of the body are supposed to be not defying gravity anymore....that's what Victoria Secrets' is for.  The group of women I was with all came to the same agreement.  I could be way off base here, but it's only a thought.  In the end, it's all a woman's personal preference and who we are.  I have friends and family on both sides of the conversation.  I remember trying to get my Aunt to at least wear makeup to a reunion and my cousins wife and I trying to 'doll" her up.   Truth is, she's pretty the way she is.  She is happy with who she is.  I think that's the most important thing to remember.  No matter if one "grows old gracefully" or continues to "primp", as long if it's what makes one happy and is done for themselves and no one else.   We all need to feel comfortable in our own skins.
Now next month, I get bored again and get my hair colored blond...who knows.  But for now, I'm going too see how this fits on me.  In the end, I will always be a country girl and accept what the Good Lord as given me.  Oh, the consensus the other night was "grow old gracefully." We shall see.....

Warning..content may be sensitive...

The night before we left for a trip to France, we were standing around talking to our neighbor.  We were just talking about normal stuff and where everyone was going for Spring Break.  So we told him that we were going to France and he says, and I quote, "No offense (yes, he said that) you look French.  You should fit right in."  I thought the "No Offense" part was pretty funny.
"Really?  Well I do have French Ancestors."  However, it made me think.  What does a Frenchman look like, or for that matter, any European?  I totally understand that there are specific ethnic groups that have similar features, but Western Europeans?  Never thought of it.  You can only imagine what I was doing as soon as we entered the country.  You got it...staring at people.  So yes, I was the loony trying to study features like I was some CSI agent or something.  I did find something out through this study, though.   I would never be a good CSI agent.  I will say that each country over here has it's own style, but all the faces  blend together.  I didn't see one certain feature that said "Yes, I am a frenchman."    Can anyone out there tell me?  Europe reminds me of America, they just speak many different languages (oh that is America, too)  and have different governments.  Like America, Europe is a blend of races and nationalities, in any country.  Americans look like Americans because of our lifestyles.  Europeans are the same.  But an American is an American and a European is a European.  However, if you strip us naked (and God, please don't) how does one tell the difference between the two?  If you can, than you a better CSI agent than me.  Of course, I do love the fashion in France., and from that, I'm happy to look french.

Note to self...

In about eight weeks our family will be ending an almost three tour of Europe and returning to the states. As I write this, we are currently in the car heading to the Provence region of France for a week. It was at our first stop, a French gas station, I realized how much shock my eldest will be in upon returning to her homeland. She was four when we arrived and seven when it is time to leave. Though it isn't necessarily a long time, I'm learning that it is quite an impressionable time.
For instance: the gas stations in Europe are these large, American large, complexes with gas, full restaurant, wide open and clean bathrooms, and a little shopping area. Now, if you do have to use the toilet, you better have some change or find another way to relief yourself of your facilities. My daughter has become a gas station snob. We did stop for lunch, but hubby and I were happy getting a pre-made sandwich and a drink. Now before you make that face, realize that these sandwiches over here are darn tootin' good. However, this was not good enough for our princess. She now has come to expect a full service meal when stopping for gas. And I quote "If all we were just going to have is sandwiches when we stopped, why didn't Daddy just pack the picnic basket?". Well, your Highness, he did pack the picnic basket, but with food for our trip. On the flip side, when we arrived at our apartment so automatically ventured out into the balcony. One minute later she comes blazing in "Mom, you have ton come see this! We can actually hang our clothes out to dry! That is so cool!". Would you believe she did just that? She found all sorts of stuff to dry this morning out on the line. It's a give and take situation. I'm glad that we get to experience it all.


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...and behind door number three is..

After the first two years of my oldest duckling's life, I began to realize that my identity has been stolen.  It wasn't from some teenage, antisocial hacker, but lots of little, two legged creatures.   Now, through my life, I've been called a lot of things..Tiffany, Tiff, Tiffy, Tiffers, LT, CPT Rudd, Nagy...the list can go on and on.  The common denominator of all of those names is that they all included my name.  Somehow down the line, my name has become something completely different.  When naming my daughter, I had no inkling that I would lose my name and take on hers.  Now I walk into a room, or the school yard, and this is what I hear.."Shelby's Mom!!"  I guess I should be happy that the word, "Mom" is in that statement.  I'm also noticing by being called "Shelby's Mom," I'm also making great friendships with other "insert child's name" Mom's.
The last 17 years has been an evolution that would make Darwin proud.  For the first 13 years, I had a life of flying helicopters, jumping out of planes, taking care of patients, running battles and driving around in a truck or a Mini Cooper.  I traveled when I wanted with just a backpack on and slept in whenever I could.  Now, I'm trying to decipher the latest knitting pattern, walking with a stroller to get exercise, wearing ONLY wash and wear clothes, running my household, and above all....two more kids later, I'm now driving a MINIVAN.  My traveling has to be well thought out and TONS of gear in tow...usually in the minivan.  Oh, and sleeping?  Yep,,,um, no.   Above everything else, I seemed to have lost my name.  Truth be told, I like it.  It's my new identity that brings smile to my face when I realize what I have and how much more rewarding this life is.  I love how all of Shelby's friends want to tell me everything about their day or that they make sure to say 'bye' to both Shelby and Shelby's Mom.  To me, it's a sign of respect and I love being surround by all those pint size creatures.  Do I miss my old life...sure, sometimes.  But, I LOVE this new life, even if it doesn't include my given name.  I look at my children and they are the best little projects I've ever been in charge of.  It's hard, sometimes full of lots of tears...TONs of diapers and arguments; however, when I snuggle up to them at night and read them a book, or when they draw a picture just for me, it's so much more rewarding that any day on the flight line.  Not to mentions all the hugs and kisses cannot be beat.  My only questions is...now that the other two are slowing coming to that age, will my new name be..."Shelby, Mikey's and RJ's Mom?"

...so the story goes

SO the story goes...
Taking the baby in for a four month checkup, I realized how bad this post-pardum hair loss has gotten.
"Ok, Ma'am, can you put the baby on the scale, take off all his clothes and diaper, please?"
Simple enough. Sure no problem...I've done this many a time. The difference is, this is the first time that one of my little ducklings has, what appears to be, a hairball coming from his tail feathers. As a matter of fact, that is exactly what the Med Tech said. As you can imagine, I turned more red than the Sox blanket he was wrapped in.
"haha..." I tried to laugh off. Doctor please!!
Needless to say, I don't remember all this hair loss after the other two. Yes, there was a bit of hair loss, but I'm at the point that a hairnet is about to become my primary daily attire. I usually complain because the dog (triple coat) sheds like she has mange, but I swear there is more hair on this floor from me than her. It's EVERYWHERE!! I wonder if it's because I am older, with a few grays just starting to appear, or my hormones REALLY got out of whack this time. I got my hair cut yesterday and my husband so Lovingly says.."that's not going to fix your problem." Well thank you dear Love of my life, but it sure makes me feel better!! There is hair everywhere! So if I am bald in the next few months, don't be surprised. They do make some pretty nifty wigs. Maybe I will just keep cutting my hair shorter and shorter. ....maybe not...
Either way, I wish the weight would shed as fast as this hair. Then at least I could be a skinny, bald Mommy....Hot, Huh???

...now for the thought of the day

I have come to realize that with each child, shower time is decreased by ten minutes.  How I remember the days when I could turn the shower on to "Can't Stand It" hot, wait a few minutes for the steam to gather, then leisurely take my time washing the day away or preparing for the world to come.  This would include full body wash, full hair treatment and full body shave, as needed.  It was, for such a long time, no less than 30 minutes for me on casual day.  Then slowly, one child, 10 minutes gone, two children, another ten minutes, now a third child, and I am now trying to prioritize, wash hair and body, or wash AND condition hair and wash body, or a quick wash with a shave.   Take for instance today.   I was determined to get some of the shower luxury back...it was Friday for goodness sakes.   So, one child at school..that left two.   Game plan is as follows...feed baby and put him in the crib and pray he goes to sleep.   Grab toddler, with Leapster, and lock him in my room with the Tv on during one of his favorite shows.  Done, done and done.  As I'm preparing for my short get-away. I realize that the baby is not going to fall asleep.  The next question is...how long do I have before I have an upset baby on my hands and a toddler telling me that the baby is crying over and over again?  It's then that I realize what my world has come down to and as well the thought of the day.....where do my priorities lie when it comes to shaving?  I must accomplish this task, as it is the weekend and there is a pool going to be involved.   I must methodically remove hair in the most vital parts in order to not look I'm becoming one of my fun fur balls of yarn and pray that I can finish the whole task.   Things, I wish my Mother would have told me.....Thankfully, I was actually able to do everything I used to do in 30 minutes in about 15; and yes, the baby was screaming his head off when I shut the shower off.  Funny, I didn't hear him.  This is what it has come down to.

The Humor in the Meatloaf.....

...and no, I don't mean the "Bat Out of Hell" one.  
Let's start by introducing myself.
Hi, mother of three, pet owner of one, and wife to one Man (Lord knows one Man is enough in one's life).
We are a Military family.
After 13 years of "Being all that I Could Be," I find myself in the hardest, most rewarding job raising my kids and taking care of my household.....though sometimes, I must admit.....wallowing around in the mud seems more inviting at times.  At least it's cleaner than, poo, spit up and all the other fluids that seem to come out of such small creatures in huge quantities.
And, oh....I can't make meatloaf.

Walking the path of life, we all find that there are many ruts, potholes, and the like that seem to trip us up as we are trying to keep our little ducks in a row.  We all have our weakness and strengths.  I try to find the humor in situations if only to make all this chaos more adaptable to easier to take.  I find that I have about five or ten minutes at time during the 24 hour period to really call my own..part of that will be this blog.  Mainly it's just tidbits of life...real or surreal.

Follow along, beat your drum...but if all else fails.....you can always have cereal for dinner when that meatloaf fails.  As for me.....two of the three ducks are quacking....