A Girl Has Needs

This one is at the top of my list today...

I need these shoes boys and girls. I need them.

I don't know when I became the kind of person who feels guilty spending a large amount of money, but it happened at some point. These puppies are 90 dollars.

I'm sure if they were pretty shoes, heels or pretty flats or something, I would have no problem dropping that kind of cash on them. But they're just trainers, and I will only wear them to workout.

Actually that's really 90% of the reason I leave my soggy house nowadays, maybe I need to just suck it up and make the investment.

Why do I need these Lunarfly+2 shoes? Because my feet are a sore and miserable mess. It's really awful. I won't go into detail, but trust me... It's horrifying.

Also these shoes are nike+ ready. Nike+ is the most amazing technology.

What will happen is I'll put that cute little sensor in the predetermined location inside of my cute new Lunarfly's and tell my iPhone (not ipod) I'm getting my workout on. Then my iPhone talks to my SHOE?! It knows how far we go, it knows how fast we go, and how hard we were working (me and my shoes). It will tell me how many calories I've lost and let me listen to a playlist of my favorite workout songs and end my workout with my "PowerSong" for motivation.

Also, apparently, if I sync my nike+ system with my facebook account, it will tell my facebook friends when I'm about to start a workout. Then if my friends "like" that I'm working out, my phone gets the notification and I hear applause with my music. Kind of cheesy, but I love cheesy.

Motivation is fun.

I need those items. Lunarfly's and the nike+ iPhone system. Contact me for my PayPal information if you would like to make a donation... in the interest of my health, and the health of my poor, poor feet.

I'm going crazy, and my mother and my cousin are driving me there. My Mom can't understand why I don't just wear a pair of her shoes, that are 2 sizes too big (and hideous) and completely flat on the bottom. I have humungously high arches, and I'm a pain in the ass and I like to wear shoes that fit. And aren't hideous.
My cousin can't understand why I don't just buy a pair of payless tennis shoes. Well, because my feet already hurt. I'm not trying to wear hard plastic, 12 pound, torture devices on my already bruised and battered feet.
They mean well.

I am off to do more packing, and more bothering my husband from a world away. I hope you all have a fantastic Monday! Tomorrow is our 6 Weeks Downiversary, and my next weigh in! Get excited, readers! I know I am!!

<3 you!

Molly On Weiner

Weiner resigning is such a bummer. One because I find the irony of his name, and this situation, so fantastically hilarious. But mainly because I don't think a little cell phone nudity warrants this type of outrage.

A divorce, maybe. If I was his wife, I would leave him.

Let he or she who has never taken a naked cell phone picture cast the first stone.

I sympathize with Weiner because one drunken evening a couple of years ago I accidentally uploaded a topless picture to facebook. It could happen to anyone. Cell phones are confusing, people.

I guess I just don't think it's that big of a deal. I think the people yelling at him during his resignation are complete douche bags. If you think sending a hot (of age) chick a picture of your junk makes you a "sick pervert" I invite you to happily live silently the rest of your life. You don't deserve to speak.

The guy who yelled "The people demand to know! Are you more than 7 inches?!" cracked me up however. If you gotta yell, I'm glad that's what you picked. The lunatics yelling "you sick pervert" at him thought they should yell and make it clear "that guy's not with us! kick him out!". Hahaha. No, dude. He's with you. On the crazy bus.

Barbara Walters has seen the uncensored picture of his ... manhood... and she said it was "impressive" on The View. I guess we don't know how many men Babs has seen naked, but I bet its enough to recognize an impressive peep. He's just proud.

I don't know. Maybe I'm missing something. He didn't touch anyone. None of the girls he sent pictures to were underage.

Anyway. That's all I have to say about that, I suppose.

Hank is currently at the groomer. I should be cleaning the dog hair out of my car and grooming myself, because I'm babysitting for a friend of Zack's this evening. I am not, of course. I will wait until minutes before I have to leave, I'm sure.

It's just that this Shania Twain rerun on Oprah is so captivating. I can't seem to pull myself away.
When she said after her husband cheated on her, and they were getting divorced, that she was freezing and the only thing that could make her stop shaking was to be chin-deep in a steaming hot bubble bath. That's me. When I'm super sad, scared, or anxious, I'm suddenly FREEZING and shakey. I get that. I get her.

I talked to Zack a lot today. I really needed him to tell me Hank was going to be alright at the groomer, because I'm a little bit of a lunatic. If he tells me he is ok, I feel like it must be true. He is off work for the next couple days and is spending his time playing video games with his new bestie David. I like David, he seems very interesting. Most importantly Zack likes David, they seem to get along quite well.

Well, I should shower. It's hot as could be outside and it's important I shower before I go to babysit. I'm really looking forward to babysitting =]

Have a great night everyone, I encourage all of you to send naked cell phone pictures to your significant others, and not twitter. Especially if you are a politician.

Be looking for a "Hank's New 'Do" Post in the near future!


XOXOX

Yep. I'm That Girl. Poor Hank.

Today I cried in the dog groomer and couldn't leave Hank there to be groomed.

Don't judge me. Let me explain.

Hank desperately needs to be groomed. He sheds year round enough to drive any pet owner completely out of their mind. And twice a year he "blows coat" which isn't what you think... gross... he basically molts. HUGE handfuls of hair just fall off of his body. It's disgusting. I however, love him so much I barely notice until someone else says something or I'm wearing something nice, and black.

I'm talking pay a large ransom love.

Who wouldn't love that sweet face??

Hank has been through a lot with me. He was a gift from my ex, and one of the only good things that came from that relationship. He was with me when I was embarassed because everyone was talking, before and after the break up. He was with me at my parents house between houses, when I cried myself to sleep, because I wasted so much time. He sat with me in the bathroom all the nights Haley lived with me, when I was too drunk to make it to my bedroom. He met and vetted lots of guys before Zack. He has been there through all the big moments of my life the last 5 years, the most important of which was meeting and falling in love with my sweet Zackery. He was my first clue Zack was the one for us.

Hank was at the bottom of the pile during the chapstick story.

Zack loves Hank.

He picked up Hank poop in the front yard, he loved Hank and played with him, and most of all he rarely- if ever- complained about the ridiculous amounts of Hank hair. But also, it turned out, Zack and Hank were already related.

When I got Hank, he was a sweet little 10 pound ball of white fur. The cutest little puppy I've ever seen. I am struggling to find a puppy picture, but I'll put one up eventually. He was silent and slept for the first 48 hours after we brought him home from the pound. I named him Hank because I love country music and I like people names for dogs. So we named him Hank after Hank Williams.

Zackery's last name is also Williams.

Hero: Zackery Williams-- See?

Which makes it fun to call and make appointments for Hank Williams. People always laugh and think I'm one of those people who names their dog a name like that since Williams is my last name. I'm not. He had my last name for 4 years, first. But it's still pretty funny.

Anyway.

Hank is my favorite. I love him so much. I would never ever put him in a situation we were not both 100% confident about. He loves Barb's Best Friends doggy daycare, and he's very social. He hates the vet, but it's a necessity, and I would never ever leave him there without me. I want him to feel confident that I will keep him safe, because he has helped me get through some pretty terrible parts of my life, and I owe that to him. Hank is more than my dog, he is my friend, and he is my baby. I am that girl.

Hank loves the water, so in the past when he has just been bathed at the groomer I am confident that he isn't scared, and I feel like I can leave him there. He loves people, and anytime people are paying attention to him he's happy as could be.

Here's Hank loving Haley after a dip in Manawa

This time was different, because our house is in the flood zone, and we are more than likely going to have to move in with my parents for at least a little while. Since my parents think that sheddy dogs live outside, and Hank and I have a very different opinion on the subject, I decided that I would get him shaved into the lion cut this year so that he can habitate the indoors right by my side where he belongs. Plus he has terrible allergies and someone suggested that the cut might help him to attract less allergens... I'm not sure about that but I'm willing to give it a try. Also, It's hot as the sun where we live in the summer, and he gets miserable unless he is in the lake. So even though he has a beautiful, double coat, I decided it was our only option. Even though I was feeling a lot of guilt about it.

Look how cute that baby is?!

So here we are today. I made an appointment a couple of days ago at the one place that wasn't going to charge us $80.00 or more. Today at 11 was his appointment, and we got there about 10:55. As we drove up I was immediately concerned. The building was a house. In a completely residential area, and it was not a very nice house, I could tell from the outside. There were kennels outside because the place is a doggy daycare also, which is concerning since to be groomed there they do not require the Kennel Cough Vaccine. There was a sign outside that said "Puppies For Sale In July" and nothing makes me angrier than people breeding puppies for cash when the shelters are FULL.

Don't get me started.

Hank and I parked and walked towards the house. He was stoked. He loves to visit people, he's always excited. As soon as I opened the door to their screened in porch, the stench of cigarette smoke hit me. Super professional. What did I expect?

Despite my better judgement we kept walking in and as soon as Hank smelled the entry rug (which probably smelled like nervous animals) he immediately got nervous and his ears went down and he hunched as close to the ground as possible. He trusts me though, and he kept walking in with me. Hank and I have went to parties at much grosser places.

The receptionist greeted us and made a Hank Williams joke, as she would. I gave her Hanks shot records and out of nowhere, this LOUD and seemingly vicious dog bark came out of the back of the house. Hank bolted for the door. He is a lover not a fighter. He was scared, and all I could think of was he really needs his haircut... he really needs it, and I'll wait outside in my car the 3 hours it takes, I'll pick him up as soon as he's done. This will be fine. He's ok.

He was not ok.

After a minute we walked to the back of the house to put him in a pin to wait for his turn to be groomed. There were several dogs pinned in the back for "day care" (Barbs Best Friends is doggy daycare, not pins) and the receptionist slid a plastic tray under a big pin RIGHT NEXT to the dog who was WIGGING OUT. Hank was not having it. He kept looking at me like "Are you on drugs? You must be on drugs." He was so scared. I have terrible guilt for not leaving right then. The other dog was banging against the side of her pin trying to get to Hank. I forgot to mention, I also had a very rough, scream at the top of your lungs "I WANT MY HUSBAND BACK", type of night, and I was exhausted and as such very emotional. So, I started to cry. Not sobbing, but like sad movie crying. Silent crying, but there were definitely tears.

Yep. Get the visual. I'm not even embarassed. I was having a moment. Don't judge me.

The receptionist sort of paniced at this point. She could tell we were both pretty distressed (haha). What she did next though, made me go put Hank back in the car.
Hank is a German Shepherd mix. Anyone who works with dogs knows that particular breed frequently have hip joint issues, and Hank definitely does. This bitch got on her knees, leaned forward and grabbed my BABY by his front legs and tried to pull him into the pin. I, terrets style, loudly blurted out "STOP!" and yanked the leash away from her and started walking towards the door. No one manhandles my baby.

I was trying to continue to be nice, because I knew if I lost my temper the police were likely to attend our consultation. My rage, however, was boiling to that point and I felt like it was probably time to rush out of there. She said she would reschedule me an appointment when there would be less dogs in there, and I smiled politely and walked to my car. Where I sat and hugged my Hank and apologized over and over. Poor dude.

I drove him to another groomer, where my mom takes her dog, that was more expensive (still not terrible) but someone I trust and took Hank in to make an appointment. Like I should have done the first time. I'm a loser.

He's going next week, and I will let all of you know how that goes. In the mean time if you live in this area, and need a fun and safe place to take your dog for daycare or boarding stick with Barb's Best friends.

I told the other groomer how horrified I was by the whole experience and they promised me they would be good to him and I could stay the whole time if I wanted. Hank even liked being in the building and was excited to see all of the other dogs casually walking around in there.

So, I am feeling like the worlds worst dog mom. I took Hank to McDonalds to get him chicken nuggets and an ice cream cone. He was still nervous and his usually perky adorable ears were still glued to the side of his head, but I feel like he is going to forgive me.

It was quite the experience. Already both of my parents have given me a hard time about being too protective, even though my Mom never would have left her dog there. The thing is, I'm certain Hank would have had a heart attack if I had left him at that place, and I just couldn't do it. Zack got it. The animal lovers who read this will get it. Anyone who has ever seen me with Hank will at least not be surprised.

Sigh. I did the right thing.

Anyway, on today's agenda we have brush Hank until he wont allow me to anymore, and pack more of our stuff.

I know that was long folks, I was venting. Thanks for reading =]
XOXOXO

I'm Going to Be FIne

Today has been a long day. I've been cleaning my house. Not just cleaning, I mean like deep cleaning. It was in complete disarray, so any kind of cleaning was welcomed by both my house, and my husband. My living room and bathroom are the cleanest they've been since I moved into this house. It's ridiculous. However, I have broken each and everyone of my Kim Kardashian glamorous finger nails. For some reason when I clean obsessively I slowly fall apart. My back aches, my feet suddenly feel freezing and go numbish, my skin gets dry, my lips immediately chap, and most concerning my nails get dry and break... yet, my husband doesn't feel this is a sign that I am to immediately stop cleaning and hire a cleaning service.

Our house is over run with animal hair. So much so that I almost considered naming this post Shaving the Kitty, which I immediately rethought... not really the type of reader I'm looking to get. Not on this blog anyway.
I won't pretend that Lucy is even one fifth of our animal hair problem, although her stripey hair is increasingly becoming an issue, it is mostly my big sheddy Hank. He makes no apologies about it, and the benefits of Hank's love far outweigh the fact that all black clothing Zack and I wear has to be kept in our cars, and we have to put it on in the driveway. Making wearing black pants uncomfortable for us, and our neighbors.
I have a dyson, and it rocks, and it still is a constant battle to tame the detached main of my zoo. It's really awful. But I try... yes I do.

Our dish washer is broken as well. It's one of those mobile ones that rolls around the floor when drunk people  lean on it. It was never really reliable for clean dishes, but for the first 18 months or so that I lived here, a couple cycles did the job. It has however, completely forsaken me. Bastard. Now it sits angrily in the corner of my kitchen, mocking me, unused and in my way. So I have been HAND WASHING dishes, for the first time in my life. So much for being the kept, trophy wife I thought I was. It dries out my hands and nails in a way that you can not imagine.
My nails are screaming, and they sound like a tiny Vietnamese woman named Susie who works at my nail place. They beg me to get acryllic nails and forget about how great my nails grow on their own when taken care of. But I can't. It's too danged expensive, and I just cant forget how awesome my nails look when they get to grow on their own. I'm not ready to give up on them.

My carpet is perpetually spotted. Our carpet is white, because my landlord is a sadist. I don't know what he was thinking when he filled this house full of white easily stainable carpet but it wasn't "Some day I'm going to rent this house out to a funny young woman, her muddy husband, her great big dog, and their occasional potty trained-challenged foster dogs. So, I think we will go with white carpet. Yep." No sir, it was not.

Bah. I hate cleaning. I'm the worst cleaner, but when I start, you better just leave me alone because I'm not stopping. Which is why demon kitty has been quarantined to her room most of the day, I was certain if I stepped on her tail one more time it was going to result in a pricey vet visit.

I haven't checked facebook, all day. I don't know what's on anyone's mind right now, and it is strangely freeing but extremely unfamiliar. I could think about nothing other than shiny sinks (Thank you Flylady), Windexed mirrors, and getting everything organized all the live long day.

Here's the thing, I think if I just stay this busy every day Zack is gone, I should be A OK. I have all sorts of things planned for the year from hell.
I'm going to workout every day, except for maybe Sunday. Just because nobody likes anyone who works out everyday and public approval is very important to me.
I'm going to go to weight watchers because I'm getting boudoir or pin up photos done as a Valentine's day present for my husband in 2012, (which I'm writing more about later) and I plan to be even cuter.
I'm going to work and make some money and since I'll be so busy, I hope to have no time to spend any of it and be super ready for baby beautiful eyes as soon as Zack gets back.
I'm going to play with all of the babies of the people around me lucky enough to get knocked up recently. That is going to be spectacular.
I'm going to start cutting coupons like it never went out of style. I don't care if I look like your Grandma in the grocery store. It's going to be sweet.
I'm also playing coed softball with two of my favorite people in the world, Chelsea and Sam. I'm really excited about that.
I'm going to volunteer my behind off for SOLAS, for Precious Memories, and for any other thing I can get into. Volunteering makes me SO happy. It's disturbing.
I'm going to blog and talk to you all a lot. Because I just love you so much.
Plus I'm going to be spending a lot of time shipping care packages to my husband and skypeing and talking to him as much as possible.

My point, dear kiddies, in this crazy long post is a three parter: 1: Everything in my house is falling apart, and is likely to get worse when my husband leaves. 2: I don't mind because it will keep me so busy trying to keep up with everything. and Finally, I'm going to be fine. Even though if I think about it for more than a minute I am likely to cry uncontrollably with no foreseeable end, but why in the world would I think about it for more than a minute?! Just like when he's gone, I'm going to take every day one minute at a time.


***Love you guys, thanks for reading. Recently I've been getting a lot of super positive feedback about TGIMolly and I'm so proud. I would say about 90% of my monthly readers are military wives, so if any one of you would like to write a guest blog post I would absolutely love that. Also, don't forget it's so easy to comment at the bottom of these posts and let me know what you think.***

Security

Alright. I had about 3000 super sad negative things to write about today. But I've stifled them. Instead I've decided to blog about how everyone keeps telling me I should worry about my impending house invasion and consequent attack while Zack is in Bahrain.
Here's the thing, I've lived by myself before. I have a big dog. A big 90 pound german shepherd mix, with big teeth. Hank. Scary right?
Wrong.
Does this look like a scary animal to you?

Holly and Hank Sleeping

Hank and Zack kissing

Doug and Hank Sleeping

He's the sweetest baby in the world 99.8% of the time. Unless you're a bunny, you're traveling down the street on a motorized wheel chair, you have a jimmy johns sandwich in your hand, you're hitting me, or you move to quickly and are not... um... caucasian... (he's a racist. I apologize. We've talked about it. He's working on it.) you're Hank's bestie. He loves everyone. He has a little bit of a nervous licking habit and will lick your hands off, or your face if you're close enough. And my little cousin Zach will testify that if you are sitting in the front seat of my car, he will ignore that you exist.

Exhibit A

He's a marshmellow.

Aside from one instance where Linny approached my door in the middle of the night and he acted like he might take her out, I have no reason to believe he would scare anyone away. He likes the mailman. When the mailman reaches our house, Hank relaxes and plays with him until he hands him a treat. 

So, the problem is, everyone thinks I'm going to be raped. Many of the people close to me are concerned that I am going to be unsafe by myself for a year. It is concerning, sure. But what am I going to do??

I have an alarm system on my home, it has however had issues connecting to the company that installed it. Meaning, unless there is a fire, the police are not always called. It's just a very loud annoying noise for a rapist to have to put up with until I put the code in or a neighbor calls the police, about 10% of the time. I have to hope that my intruder is also an arsonist if I want the alarm to really be 100% effective. But they don't know that. So, I've played in my head what I would say to them "Excuse me sir, that alarm system you hear,  yeah it just called the police. They should be here soon. I'm not playing. Go. Quit petting the dog. Scram bucko!".

Ineffective? Perhaps. I think I'll have that checked. 

Zack wants me to get a gun. Which I am absolutely not going to do. I don't want a gun in my home. It's too easy to have an accident. I'm pretty sure I'd just be providing the assailant a weapon. I have on occasion tried to give my husband a dose of his own fracking medicine and shoot him with his stupid nerf gun, he immediately apprehends said gun and I am pelted with dozens of tiny nerf bullets. It's annoying. I fear that with a real gun, the outcome with an intruder could be far more fatal. 

I don't want a gun.

I have, as recently as a couple of weeks ago, fostered dogs in the past. Usually tiny dogs, but I could get a bigger scarier one... I mean, one with a scary bark and a big head. But Hank likes being an only child and I think he was happy to see the last foster leave. I'm pretty sure he's waiting for Lucy the adorable demon kitty to find a new home. Sorry Bud, she's staying. Unless she jumps on this keyboard one more time while I'm blogging....

So, what to do?? I'm interested in what other military wives do during deployment. I know lots of people move in with their parents, which is super not happening. We all get along better when I live somewhere else. Plus Hank sheds and my parent's cat tried to eat Lucy. 

I could get a roomie I guess. The last time it was pretty fun.

hm.

I can't wait for this stupid year to be over.

Waiting

I'm so jealous. Everyone is pregnant. Everyone has their babycenter baby tickers on facebook. I'm so freaking jealous your baby is a watermelon. I'm obscenely jealous your kumquat baby is giving you morning sickness. I can't wait to hear all about your birth's. But, I have to wait.
I have to wait because I can't imagine being more emotional while Zack is gone. I can assure everyone it is in their best interests that I am not a pregnant, sad, super bitch, counting down the days until I can be with my love again. Trust me. No one wants that.
I want to enjoy every single second of my pregnancy. Positive tests. Morning sickness. Giant sore boobs. Alien baby kicks. Drug free painful, amazing, birth. Every moment. If Zack is gone, every moment will be shadowed with me wishing he was there.

Alien Baby Kicks

If I loved him less this whole thing would be so much easier.
Ugh. Stupid amazing husband.
Also, the best way for me to tolerate not being able to bother Zack will be for me to stay crazy busy. So, I'm going to work out, and tan, and WORK. I know, pick your jaw up. I'm going to work, kids. It's been a while, but I'm going to find a job that I can work hundreds of hours. Or maybe 2 jobs. I want to work so much I can't think about anything else, or spend any money.
When he gets back, we will have been waiting for baby beautiful eyes for, like.... well, for my entire life. I was born to be a Mommy. I am good at a lot of things but I can tell you right now, my best work is yet to come. Since I will be working all the live long day, and Zack will be making tax-free Bahrain dollars, we will be so set when we finally are expecting. Which is totally responsible and, frankly, unlike me.
I know it's the right decision and I'm shocked to find that I am not upset about it. I guess there was a reason that we didn't get pregnant right away. So we could make this happen for our little Ninja Baby.
So, of course, now that Zack and I have decided 100% to "be responsible" and wait until he gets home from Bahrain to get pregnant, I am just absolutely certain he will accidentally knock me up.
Whatever. It's in God's hands.

Serendipity

ser·en·dip·i·ty
-noun

Serendipity is the effect by which one accidentally stumbles upon something fortunate, especially while looking for something entirely unrelated. 


In December of 2008, I made an incredible decision for myself. One that I should have made, long LONG before that. I left my ex. Well actually he left. Went missing in fact. But I decided that was it, and when he came back, like he always did, I would not be there for him to bother. I had been with him since a couple months before I graduated high school, and had only ever lived with him or my parents. It was time to be on my own, and I was so excited.
I found a new house. I moved Hank and I there.. OK, my brother and his friends moved Hank and I there, and I started my new life.

Molly & Hank

I was pretty distraught for a while. I wont lie. It was a pretty miserable time for me, but I was still relieved and excited to start a new chapter.
I spent about 3 months making a lot of decisions for myself. I'm going to be single for a year. I'm going to stay out all night. I'm going to kiss boys I barely know (I didn't say they were good decisions). I'm going to date as many guys as I want. I'm going to go out with every single guy that asks me out. I'm going to be single, no attachments, for one whole year. That was the most important. I didn't know me. I wanted to meet me, and I didn't want to deal with a relationship for 12 whole months.
During that time (those first few months by myself), while I sat at home making these decisions, I wasn't really acting on any of them. I went to work, I came home and played with Hank, watched TV, went out occasionally, but really I wasn't doing anything to keep those promises to yours truly. And then something amazing happened.
Enter: Haley Corbin. Haley moved in with me, and saved me. Haley was the next step on my road to happiness, and although I don't remember a lot about my year living with her, I remember enough to know I owe her.
Haley made me go out with her. Every single night. For about 4 weeks after she moved in. I was hungover and late for work for 4 weeks. I also put makeup on and did my hair, for 4 weeks. It was kind of a big deal. I have never been drunker with anyone else. Haley is amazing.

Hay returning our beer cans, making a 

small fortune from alcoholism.

After I started going out again all of the time, and having people over all the time, and lost my job, which sounds like a direct consequence of Haley moving in, but actually I was laid off, I started getting unemployment and while looking for a job I needed something else to do with my time so that I had some responsibility to something and didn't die of alcohol poisoning, and, I started volunteering at the Animal Shelter in Council Bluffs.
I loved every Saturday with SOLAS and loved going there during the week to walk dogs. I was constantly meeting new people. Good people. The kind of people I needed in my life. Not that the random boys (and crazy old guys) Traci and I were going out with every weekend weren't good people, they paid, and we liked them that. I just needed people who liked to volunteer and give back and play with dogs, in my life apparently. Because it made me so happy, and I hadn't been, like that, in a very long time.
So for the entire summer, and most of the fall, I went out with Haley during the week. I went out with boys and Traci, on the weekends. And most of my days, definitely my Saturday days, were spent with mutts and fantastic, fabulous older women, at the animal shelter or Petsmart.
Then one Saturday, at the beginning of fall, when I drove up to the shelter there were boys waiting to help volunteer. So, naturally, when I saw the volunteer coordinator Mary, I asked her about them and she told me they were military boys, from Offutt. Instantly I was interested. I texted Haley. She felt the same.
Enter: Douglas Siegmund. On Halloween I was volunteering with Doug and another "Navy Boy", as Haley and I referred to them, at Petsmart, and she brought Hank to see me in his Halloween costume.

Hay sent me this picture on her way to

Petsmart that day.

The next part is sort of... well, none of my business, but essentially Haley and Doug made plans for Doug and friends to come to our place for beer pong, the next night. And so he came. And he brought 2 loud, drunk, annoying, obnoxious, attractive, Sailors with him. Zack and Holly.
The next day when I talked to Doug, I told him that if he didn't bring those guys over again, that would be ok. Because they were irritating. And so, so, loud. :)
Doug was house sitting for one of the ladies from the shelter, and watching her many dogs. She was super cool to Doug, and told him it would be OK if we all came over to hang out there while he was house-sitting. So we did, and in those 3 days, I fell for one of those loud, drunk, annoying, obnoxious, attractive Sailors. A lot of you have heard the chapstick story about our first kiss, that happened house sitting at Monica's. The first time I heard Zack sing was at Monica's. Those two moments pretty much sealed my fate, although at the time I had no idea. I still was very sure I had no long term interests in Zackery.
The next several months the 5 of us, Zack, Holly, Doug, Haley and I, spent drinking and cuddling and playing at our house. Trying to stay warm in the craziest snow season I've ever seen. We spent all of our off time together. From November to March. It was probably the most fun I've had.
But, eventually, Haley was sucked in to the dark side, and pulled away from us by a total douche. And the 4 of us hung out, pretty much nonstop until Holly met a girl and was suddenly very busy all of the time. And then Doug went home and met a girl and was equally busy skyping and etc. And then there were 2.
Even though Zack and I had officially started dating in January, when he told my family at a superbowl party in February, he would marry me one day I was totally caught off guard and elated. I couldn't wait.

My favorite sailors at the SuperBowl party 

Zack told my family he would marry me at.

Then he proposed. But that's another story for another day kiddies.
I really need to start getting all of these details down, and what way better than this?
Anyway, that's why if you ask me or my Zack how we ended up together, that is why we will tell you serendipity.
Because almost exactly 11 months, to the date, I said I wanted to be single for a year, I met Zack. Just over 14 months after I made that promise to myself, I was crying in Spaghetti Works showing everyone my ring. Now I get to spend the rest of my life with that loud, loud, sailor.
Sometimes when you're looking for one thing, if you allow yourself to, you'll find a much better thing. Thank God I did =)

The day I became Mrs. Williams

ser·en·dip·i·ty
-noun

Serendipity is the effect by which one accidentally stumbles upon something fortunate, especially while looking for something entirely unrelated. 

My Mini-Human

I can NOT wait to have a baby. I'm trying. I am. But I am just so excited.
I am going to be what is commonly referred to as an attached parent. I will have whole, uncircumcised, kiddos who I will selectively vaccinate, wear full-time, breast feed until they don't want to anymore, they will be cloth diapered, and they will be brought into this world as peacefully, and as drug-free, as God will allow. These are decisions Zack and I have already made for our babies. We already know their names and we sometimes refer to them as if they are here. We are very excited.
They will be our babies. OURS. I don't care what you do with your baby. We have researched and researched every single decision that we have already made, and we know these decisions are right for our babies. I absolutely believe that they're right for all babies, but certainly know it's not my place to go to your facebook and throw advice you didn't ask for at you. I know enough common courtesy to know not to tell you you're wrong... to your face, anyway.
There is no (none) medical proof that says baby boy Williams should be circumcised. In fact, to the contrary. Like Craig Ferguson recently said "so, the options are wash it or cut it off?". Seems silly.
My baby will be born with ears, they will be an inconvenience to me at first, and to him later. They will get dirty, they could get infected, they will have to be washed every single time I bathe him... pain. in. the. ass. So, we're having them removed.
Call CPS I'm out of my mind!!
But if I said the same thing about a useful, nerve filled part of my future son a lot of the people in the United States would be perfectly fine. ugh.
Also, I'm a mammal, and I want to give my baby the very best start at life, so of course I will breastfeed. The World Health Organization recommends breastfeeding 'til 2. I will. That's it. I will. It is what my body was made to do. If I am in the extremely small percent of women with a legitimate reason that they can not, I will feed my babes someone elses breast milk. That's it. They're mammals and they're human. They deserve, their birth right is, to get human breast milk.
I'm getting off track, and I didn't want this post to be about how I hate standard procedure and how hospitals treat birth like an illness. So, it's not going to be.
What I DESPISE, is women who believe differently defending their decisions to Mom's who choose to raise their babies naturally and have all the medical and psychological proof in the world to back it up.
My best friend is without question, the best Mom, that I have ever seen. She's researched thoroughly every decision she has made for her baby and future baby and she does everything she can to make sure her kiddo's have the very best start at life. Unfailingly, however, every single time I stalk her facebook page her evil evil monster-in-law or some hillbilly she's friends with (sorry) is telling her how dumb it is that she still wants to breastfeed or not circumcise or cloth-diaper. It is astounding. The overwhelming majority of these people are lazy people who just go with the flow and do whatever their doctor says to do, that are defending their bad decisions because they feel guilt or some other similar emotion about making them. If you make a decision for your baby and you have medical proof or really, ANY TYPE of legitimate argument, I can respect that. But inconvenience or tradition is not a legitimate argument. Recently someone wrote on her page "I circumcised both my kids, I believe it's a personal choice on this one." what??? Sure, so is everything else! See:ear removal. dumb.
Or calling people selfish who choose not to get the MMR vaccine for their kids, because there is a considerable risk of HARM to the child. Or saying that standard procedure std vaccinations for NEWBORNS are there because "so many mom's lie" about their STD status. WTF?!
Silly.
My point here is, SHUT UP. That's great that you formula feed and gave your baby cereal at 2 weeks. Good for you. Your baby will probably be fine. Probably. If probably works for you, GREAT.
I have to hold my tongue every single time I go to her facebook.
Recently her own father-in-law told her that a decision she made for her baby (a legitimate decision) just didn't have a "good enough fucking reason".
I swear I will cut someone.
This is why, as a lactivist, intactivist, future cloth diapering, baby wearing, selective vaccing, breastfeeding, Mom I will not explain myself. The decisions I make will be discussed with my husband only. Because I could not be nice to the people my dear dear bestie is nice to. I will end up in jail.
That is all.