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....