6 Weeks Downiversary!

So, I'm totally over the whole deck of cards thing...

Welp. Another long week down.

It doesn't seem possible at all that it's been 6 weeks!

I definitely didn't know it would be this hard to adjust. It is. But, it is getting easier. I was just telling Zack that today. It's getting easier to be by myself so much. I miss him, but I can sleep a little more now. I don't cry myself to sleep every night.

There are still some nights when I do. But our sweet Hank is there to squeeze. Lucy is there to... attack me.

Things aren't perfect, but they're getting better. It's getting to be ok.

And I feel terrible about that. I know that's stupid, and I know Zack doesn't want me to be sad all the time. Honestly, I don't want it either. It's a subconcious thing. If it's getting easier that must mean that I'm learning to live without him, and that's where I'm not comfortable. I feel guilty. I don't want to learn to live without him, I don't want to stop missing him. I wont him to come home. I know it's stupid and I have to live my own life. I can't help it. I really wish I didn't feel that way.

But, it is getting easier.

I just wish he could come home. I miss him so much.

As it turns out not working for as long as I did, first because I didn't want to, and second so that I could spend time with Zack, is not helping me re-enter the workforce. I'm not particularly concerned about money, but it would be nice to have some sort of schedule. Good for my mental health, ya feel me?

I am losing weight like it's my job though, and that is a lot of fun. Even when I'm feeling absolutely terrible, it still makes me feel good to look at how my clothes are fitting. This week I found a pair of capri's I meant to return 2 months ago, because when I bought them I didn't try them on and when I got them home I couldn't even button them. This time they fit comfortably, even a little loose. After wearing them a couple of hours I definitely needed a belt.
I was so excited I almost peed.

Losing weight for me is definitely sort of a psychological experiment. When I eat right, and excercise, I feel good but there is a certain level of anxiety and compulsion that I feel the entire day. If I have a day where I cheat, even a little- were talking one cookie that I count the points for and still stay on my WW plan-, I am far more relaxed. I don't know what that's about.

I mean I do, I think it's pretty obvious. When I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing I obsess about it and it's all I can think about, therefore driving me slightly out of my mind. When I cheat, even if it's not really cheating, all the pressure of doing everything right is gone. I guess I just need to give myself a break.

I'm a douche.

Whatever it takes. It's working.

This whole flood thing is getting totally out of hand. I'm ready for it to be OVER. I don't want it to happen, but for goodness sake either do it or don't! Everyone is on edge. It's exhausting. The rumors are obscene. I certainly hope 98% of them are false.

I will say I can't help but find it rude and insensitive the way the local media is handling the whole situation. "Another small town in Iowa has been devastated by a breach in the levee. Now to Derek for more College World Series news." Are you joking?

I get it. This area needs the CWS, it makes everybody a lot of money. But if the city officials can say confidently "We are not going to allow the flooding to get to TD Ameritrade Park" why can't the city officials say "We are not going to allow the flooding to devastate everyone in the flood zones". Excuse me while my conspiracy theorist comes out, but I think something shady is happening here. There are military trucks, filled with uniformed National Guard, everywhere!

What is going on?!

The people in my area, and people MILES from the river, are being informed that we are in a level 1 alert. Level 1 Alert, as indicated by the paper work they gave me, is the threat of an unusual or slowly developing event that may impact a levee system or a flood protection system. So, basically level 1 is them telling us "something is going to happen". So, why in the world has it not been mentioned ONCE on the news?! I can only imagine that it is thousands of people who have been informed, by CITY OFFICIALS, going door to door and no one has said word one about level one.

Unacceptable.

Also, on the paperwork given to me there is a number that you can call to be signed up for a phone call if and when there is an emergency type issue. I can only imagine this is available because they won't mention it on the news. I called the number Sunday, when I was notified, to sign up... angrily. Get this, though... they're not OPEN ON SUNDAYS! No one is available to answer the phone on Sundays. Let's all cross our fingers the levee's work extra hard on Sundays.

I just called them again (written Monday) , to get signed up and the lady said "If you have internet, you could just sign up online.". Well color me foolish, I suppose I could have read that in the paperwork... only that IS NOT IN ANY OF THE PAPERWORK?! I hate to complain, I know they have tough jobs, but I feel like this situation is not being handled well by our city officials. The lady was like " I know it's not on any of the information being given out. I don't know why it's not on any of those papers.". Me either, lady. Me either.
I am annoyed.

I am packing.

I am missing my husband.

Best I can do, I suppose.

Other than my obvious distaste for this situation, I am doing better. I do miss my husband like crazy. I love him so much, and I think this situation would be much easier if he was here. But, I am learning to be strong. I am learning to kick this deployments ass one day at a time. One week at a time. One month at a time. Next thing you know all of this will be a bad memory and Zack and I will live happily ever after on top of a hill hundreds of miles from any water source :]

Thank you for going through this journey with me you guys. You're all so fantastic!

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!

5 Weeks Downiversary!

This week has sailed along quite smoothly. So smoothly in fact I have very little to update everyone on this week.
As you may have read, we have officially passed our ONE MONTH DOWNIVERSARY! Which is very exciting. That means we only have 11 tiny months left.
You may notice I've changed the "weekly count" tab to the "Downiversary" tab, because I made up that word in the middle of the night last night, and I think it's more exciting to celebrate having a week down, instead of mark it.
So HAPPY 5 WEEKS DOWNIVERSARY everybody! We have a measily 47 or 48 weeks left until I am wrapped in my husbands arms forever.
I will share with you, that this week of my weight loss journey I have discovered that there is no motivation like hearing the people you love tell you they are proud of you. After today's weigh in (where I lost over 5 pounds) I am feeling high as a kite. Literally euphoric! It feels so good to hear others tell me that they are proud of me, but ya know what? I am super proud of myself. I am getting healthy. I am getting Hank healthy, and even though he is not a fan yet, we walk everyday now!
Today I am rewarding hitting my first big mini-goal of 5% of my weight lost (!!!) by buying myself... well, technically Zack's buying myself... a new pair of tennis shoes! My blisters have blisters, and I think it's time. I am so excited. Thank you Zackery!
You may have noticed an additional tab on my blog celebrating my weight loss accomplishments. I added that to keep myself accountable to all of you as well. I'm a lot less likely to give up or gain weight if I have to tell all of you!
So, I'm off to buy shoes!
Thanks for reading boys and girls! This was a great week!

Taking The Bad With The Good

I am in a fantastic mood today, considering.

Considering my house is more than likely going to be under 3 to 4 feet of standing water by the end of the month, and I am being forced to pack all of my most important worldly belongings. I am feeling confident that I'm going to be able to get out all of the things that really matter to Zack and I, as well as most of the stuff that doesn't. If my house is unlivable, which it will obviously be if it floods even a little, I have a place to go that I can take my Hank and Lucy, and all of our stuff, for free. Which is exciting since I will still get my housing allowance, and I will have enough money to replace any necessities that I may not move.

This is all fantastic news.

However, I am super excited because today was my second weigh in with Weight Watchers. I have officially been on "the plan" for 2 full weeks and I have already lost 7.4 pounds! Woot! I received my 5 pound weight loss milestone today and I am thrilled. I have also lost multiple inches. I am elated. I can't believe how easy this is. I can't believe how close I am to my first goal, it is insane. At this rate I will reach my goal weight well before Zack gets home. I just need to stay motivated, and I really don't think that's going to be a problem.

I am already looking at cute little outfits to wear to pick Zack up from the airport. It's so exciting.

I know 7.4 pounds doesn't seem like much in 2 weeks, but this isn't really a diet, it's the way I will learn to eat for the rest of my life. People on weight watchers generally lose 1 to 2 pounds a week. I have a total of 50 weeks since I started Weight Watchers to the time Zack gets home, 1 or 2 pounds a week works pretty perfectly since I'm not trying to lose 100 pounds.

That was exactly what I needed to get me out of my funk. I have been pretty sad lately. But today I feel good. Even though I still miss Zackery like crazy.

I HATE packing and moving though. I have always hated it. It always feels messy and unorganized. So in that arena, I could definitely use some motivation. It is not fun.

I'm being told if it floods even a little bit they will shut off the power to our area. Since it is almost a certainty that it will flood at least a little bit I feel like I should start moving my stuff as soon as possible so that I don't end up moving stuff, especially big stuff, from my house in the 10 zillion degree heat.

Because the heat here is not playing around. It is as hot here this week as it is in Bahrain. It's insane. Anyone who has ever moved or helped someone move, knows that the only thing worse than moving someone in the middle of the subzero temp winter, is moving someone in the middle of the my skin is cooking temps in the summer. So, It's sort of a hurry up and wait game now. Good thing I'm so used to that.

So, there's that.

I want to briefly mention to all of you how bummed I was this morning, however.
WAIT! It's not what you think.
This morning I wanted to donate Lucy's old litter box to the animal shelter, because I just got a sweet new one that requires minimal poop touching. I got there a little early and while I was sitting in the parking lot I saw a family, with their 2 small children in the car, bringing their cat and kittens to be dropped off.
It is kitten season and the shelter is PACKED with homeless cats and kittens. If you bring your cat in with it's kittens right now you should feel confident that at least half of them will not make it out. They're just too full. So don't be an ass and take your cat and kittens to the shelter. Spay and Neuter your animals, first and foremost. But if you're too lazy and irresponsible to do that, at the very least, it is your responsibility to take care of your family pets offspring, and make sure they all have loving and responsible homes to go to.
How can someone take their pet to the pound like they're returning a library book? I can't understand it. Lucy is psychotic. She is rarely a joy to be around. She is mean to everyone besides Zack and I, and really that's only if she's having a good day. She believes, firmly, that her mission in life is to attack and kill everything in our home. Even on her very worst day, I have never seriously considered taking her to the pound. Because she's my responsibility. Zack and I adopted her and I owe it to her to stick it out no matter how psychotic she turned out to be, and love her even if she will only let me pet her 2 or 3 times a day.

Lucy helping me pack.

So don't be stupid.
It breaks my heart.

I'm An Idiot, How Exciting!

In my frenzy (or crazy), obviously to keep busy, I have been literally purging all of the extra in my house. It is obscene. Boxes and boxes and boxes of stuff for goodwill. I'm almost embarassed. Beds, bedding, old stocking stuffers, shoes, random items I don't need, tupperware by the case load for example, but mostly CLOTHES. I just did this last year, I know, some of you have read about this once before. But last year I kept things because I thought that they were cute and one day I'd be able to wear the outfit I wore to post prom my junior year, again.

I am an idiot.

I am doing fabulous on weight watchers. I am a lot more aware of what I eat, mainly. Knowing my regular sandwich from Jimmy's is 20 points, has kept me away from their freaky fast goodness. French fries are out of the question, and even my favorite salad has like 18 points. I feel like an idiot for eating like that before. Because fruit is 0 points (yay grapefruit!!) and requires almost no prep-time I mostly eat that. Also, so that I get some real food in I eat oatmeal or something for breakfast and maybe a weight watchers smart ones frozen meal for dinner. Which is difficult for me, because I don't like to eat things that don't expire this year. But, it's a marked improvement from the crap I eat usually without really even thinking about it.

It's actually perfect, because Zack's health habits are changing drastically due to his new found love of fitness, and his roommate David. So, I feel confident that when he returns we will be able to stay fit and look sexy together.

Back to my point, I am doing fabulous on weight watchers. My clothes, after only one week, are already fitting a lot differently. I am stoked. So, I thought, I could get out my old clothes that I saved and see if they fit.

I am an idiot.

This was a terrible decision for a few reasons. The first is that I have been wearing clothes that fit loosely to begin with so my 3 or 4 pound weight loss since starting WW is going to make clothes that were already borderline too big, fit like they're too big. Putting on clothes that were SEVERAL sizes smaller was a joke. They were way too small and left me feeling like a huge douche.
The second reason that it wasn't a great idea, is that those clothes, are not cute. As it turns out. They looked fabulous on my 5 years ago, because that's when they were stylish and new. Not today, folks. Not today.
Why did I think that wearing those funny, tie under your boobs over a tanktop thingys were even remotely acceptable? Talking about showing off your assets. Apparently I thought those were words to live by.

Circa May 2008- hopefully the last one of those shirt toppers I wore.

I am an idiot.

So today while purging the clothes from my bedroom, without even opening last years boxes I put in my closet marked post-weight loss, I put them in my car to be taken to goodwill. Outski.

This is not because I am not confident that I will fit into them again, I will. I could totally rock those boob-showy thingys and tiny tank tops, in a couple of months. But, why would I? My thoughts on keeping them previously wasn't to save money on new clothes, it was to wear cute smaller clothes as a reward to myself when I lost weight. Reward myself from wearing clothes that I wouldn't have worn today if I never gained any weight at all. What a reward that would have been.

Ya know what a better reward will be? NEW CLOTHES. Woot! It's going to be spectacular.

So, they're all gone. Except my favorite old pair of jeans, also not acceptable to wear in 2011. But, how frickity awesome will I feel when I can wear them again?? Yessir.

I'm feeling confident! I feel motivated, and I am going to kick this weight loss things ass, and then all of you will donate money for my new wardrobe... please.

Okeydoke. More cleaning to get to. Talk to you all later!

By the way- I've been getting RECORD views on this blog, like the highest they've ever been by almost double, and yet the comments have drastically decreased. What the hayl? No comment?

xoxox

The Half I Will Not Miss

Just for this post, I'm going to try not to mention how much I miss my love. Because I do. It feels like half of me is missing. But, for this post I want to discuss with you amazing readers, how much I would like an actual half of me to be missing.

One of the only posititve things about having a year to myself is that it leaves me with lots of time for self improvement.

In the last 3 or 4 months I have started a post titled "Who says a girl can't gain one or two hundred pounds before her husband leaves for a year?", that I have never finished. For obvious reasons. It's a non-starter.
However, I have felt the need to address my quite obvious weight gain (as has my father.. often).
I am a stress eater. I wont deny it.
I have gained a backstreet boy more than I ever intended to weigh.

I'm hoping it's just one of the little ones... 

I am all sorts of motivated, and now that he's gone and I'm here to sulk in my sadness I am not eating much. Which is my usual pattern. It hasn't been a week yet and I bet I've lost 5 or 6 pounds. I don't know how many actual pounds because I haven't been on a scale and looked at the number in years. Literally.
Which means I don't know if i've gained a backstreet boy, or a backstreet man. Regardless, I want to be a much smaller human when Zack gets home next May.

So, here's my problem. I have no idea how to lose weight. I won't work out by myself, especially on base. It's just not happening. When I do go to a gym, I play on a treadmill or an eliptical. Which I guess is better than nothing. I am acquiring a treadmill tomorrow.

I tried to go to a weight watchers meeting the day after Babe left, but I just wasn't ready to leave the house yet.
Me not attending the meeting gave my uber-obnoxious, hypocritical, father (who I love dearly) plenty of ammo. You have no idea how stressful my weight gain has been for him. Sarcasm.
He told me instead of going to weight watchers he would pay for me to be hypnotised to eat better. I am a believer in hypnotism, because it helped my mom to finally quit smoking. However, she knew how to stop smoking beforehand. I, on the other hand, have no idea how to lose weight. I don't think they can hypnotise to know how to do something. Motivate me, sure. Im already pretty motivated, it is the knowledge of an actual weight loss plan that I am lacking.
I mean, eat right, workout, essentially work off more calories than you take in. Gotcha. But I feel like I need a plan. I don't really know how to eat right.

I have always been a big girl. Curvy. But never lacked attention. I had, and have, fantastic boobs, and great curves. I'm thick.
I have always ate junk, and a lot of fruits and veggies, and stayed relatively the same size. Until this year.
Awesome, yeah?
Yeah.

So I need help. I've considered everything. What worked for you? Have you lost weight? I'm dying to know what everyone else recommends. Undoubtedly, you will all comment on my facebook page instead of here, and that is fine- I'd just really like your feedback.
Lemme know.

Love you guys =)

I Joined The Mile High Club

I am officially blogging from 30,000 feet. That's what the mile high club is... right?




Aaaand turbulance.

I hate turbulance.

We still have 2 frickity frackity hours to go.

I hate turbulance.

Zack is stressing me out. Because I hate turbulance.

Yay for being able to google "how much turbulance is normal?" While in the air. Woot.



Regardless of this flight... this turbulant flight... Our time in Florida was indescribably amazing. We were busy and happy the entire time. There will be blogs full of pictures in weeks to come.



Our Indiana adventure starts in 2 hours. We will be going from extraordinarily beautiful weather to crap weather, but we are so excited to see the fam. Especially Kenzie Rae and Baby Max. We've missed them so.



UUUGH turbulance. I like a flight that the seatbelt light never has to come back on for.



The good news is I have just discovered that in an unusual moment of stupidity I realized all of the time telling devices on my person are on Iowa time, which means I have one hour and 5 fracking minutes of this left and not 2 as I had previously thought.

Everyone pray for a safe landing, and that I don't freak out before then.



Speaking of freaking out, I had a mini-meltdown in the airport after saying goodbye to my sweet Grandma and my Uncle Denny. Thinking about it now I may start to lose it. There were a lot of reasons, but I mostly held it together since we were running super late and were minutes from missing our flight.

My Uncle Denny is in failing health, but mouthy as ever. Which makes me think he's doing alright. He's got many more years of (literal) kicking and screaming left in him if you ask me. But, I'm (technically) no doctor.

My sweet Grandma, who I love so very much, is spending the next 2 months at the house in Florida, during months that she is usually in Iowa, where she belongs. This means that unless I remain jobless and make another trip to Florida soon, I really have no idea when I'll get to hang with her again. Which makes me really sad, because I love her so much.

The kicker- the turn Molly in to a sobbing mess maker- was when Zack hugged my Gma (It makes me cry now to think about it- which is always nice on a plane) and Gma said "I love you, Babe. You be safe." Because my sweet Grandma won't see my sweet husband again for at least 12 months.

Because my sweet husband, who I love more than anything, is leaving in a matter of days. And that breaks my heart into a thousand pieces. He's leaving for a YEAR. How could this be?

And I sob.

For the first time since we left for Florida, I cried over Zack leaving. Actually I cried literally over Zack while he was shoving things from our suitcase in to the carry on bags so that our fatty suitcase could "make weight" after being 12 pounds (which translates to $49.00) over.

I don't want this to happen. I don't want him to leave. I don't want to miss him every single day for a year. It sucks. It is shitty. And if there was anything I could do to stop it and keep him at home with me, I would do it.



We seem to be descending... I sure hope it's on purpose. Don't they usually turn the seatbelt light BACK on when descending? I always forget that I hate flying.

I suppose I'll blog more later this week, since our Indiana adventure promises to be a little more relaxing and less jam-packed than the Florida adventure.



I've missed you guys =)

XOXO

Psych

About a month ago Zack and I went with the family to a psychic. At first we were both totally sceptic and even a little bit resistant, since we are both Christian and psychic's are sort of looked at, well badly, by a lot of Christians. But this woman told my Mom 20 years ago that she was pregnant with a little boy before my mom even knew she was knocked up. She predicted that an important man in my Aunt Mary's life was going to pass away shortly before my Grandpa died. She predicted my cousin Angie would get pregnant with a little boy, he is yet to make an appearance but anatomy scans show she's right. She's predicted lots of things I can't remember right now. She's scary good.
So we went.
Or I went, and Zack was forced. Whatev.
On mulitple occasions that day Zack and I had discussed the number 23 and how we thought it was good luck, so when my Mom called to tell me she had already bought my turn with the psychic and that I was number 23, I instantly felt like that was a good sign.
Zack was number 25, so I went first... obviously.
I had no idea what to expect and I was concerned she would tell me something awful, or be mean to me, or tell me to take my hair out of the knotted pony tail it was in (which she did to my cousin Stacy just a few turns before mine). Any of those things would have sent me running from the facility crying and sucking my thumb.
I was pleasantly surprised when it was finally my turn, when I walked up to a crazy-fun-aunt looking type, who seemed genuinely excited to see me.
I told her how excited and nervous I was and she asked if she had ever seen me before. I told her no, I was there with my Mom and My Aunt and Husband, and Cousin, but that I had never been before. She gave me a generic pink pen to give to whomever brought me with them, which seemed odd. Then I wrote my name on a piece of paper and thus began my "reading".
The first thing she said to me was "Are you pregnant?". "No." I told her. "Well it's unlikely, I don't think so, no. no. I'm not. Unfortunately." She smiled at me and said "What's your daughter's name?".
"Uh, no daughter. No kids yet. Unfortunately."
"Really? hm."
At this point I was disheartned. We were 0 for ... what, like 3? I dont know. I was bummed. Then she said "Where is your husband going?"
"What? What do you mean?" I stuttered, shocked.
"Where's he going? I want to tell you he's going to be safe."
Aaaand tears. Here I am in a bar, talking to a psychic, trying not to cry.
"He is? Thank you for telling me that, he's being stationed in Bahrain in May. Without me."
"Well, he will be safe." She assured me and touched my hand.
"Are you all trying to get pregnant before he leaves?" She asked me. This is a common question and usually when people ask I can feel them judging our decision and I feel I have to justify it.
"We're not trying, not preventing. We would love to get pregnant but we've been trying for a while now and it hasn't happened, so..." I stammered.
"Well, in your 25th year, you will have a healthy baby."
I'm 24. My birthday is in October. Que more tears... I'm a blubbering idiot ok?
"Yeah? That would be amazing. I would love that."
All of these quotes are freaking me out. Without anyone suffering through anymore conversation, here's the rest of what she told me.
She said that I needed to be in the health field, but not a "traditional" health career. Hm. Since I'm training to be a Doula, I thought that was very interesting.
She told me that I needed to try to save some money because while Zack was gone or after my pregnancy (if I got pregnant before he left) I was going to lose a lot of weight and need a new wardrobe. Well, sounds good to me.
She told me my husband is crazy about me. And a few other things I felt I already knew, like that my husband and I would have 2 babies a boy and a girl and we would all live a happy life together.
Our time together (about 7 minutes) was ending and I stood up to leave. As I did she said "Wait, I just got this, you'll be pregnant before he leaves. Go home and have lots of sex. Take a prenatal every day until you get pregnant. You're going to be pregnant before he leaves." Aaaand more tears. She also said that I needed to stop putting my body down. No baby wants to enter a condemned body, she informed me. Then she wrote down some words for me to live by, and repeat to myself often, "I honor my body as a vehicle of God".
And I do. I honor my body as a vehicle of God.

Wouldn't that be just the best? To be pregnant before he left? Ugh. I'd love it.
So we stopped on the way home and bought prenatals and I've been taking them every day since. With my fingers crossed and my legs in the air. Too much? ha.

Here's a rundown of what she told Zack about 10 minutes after she talked to me.
We were sitting across the bar, so it's not impossible that she knew he was my husband.*
The first thing she said to him was that he was super "potent" and fertile right now.
Also that in about 5 months we would feel and be financially stable- that's about 3 months in to his duty in Bahrain.
She said that he was going to have a little boy, with his wife (me, ha), and be a little league coach. She also told him (what I already knew) That he's going to be a great Daddy =)
Also, apparently we are going to Europe at some point, and having LOTS of sex there.
She said in 14 months she saw real estate, maybe an acreage, come into our lives.
And finally she said he may get a phone call from a female family member concerning a womens health issue, but that it would all work out, and everyone would be ok.

All in all we both thought it was very cool and we're hoping for the best. I believe I will get pregnant before he leaves =) Because my body is a vehicle of God. And I honor it.

I have a whole lot of netflix and dishes to catch up on today so I better get on with that.

Have a spectacular day readers, I love your faces!

Oh yeah! - I'd like to wish a very happy birthday to my Mommy, who is the very best mom anyone could ask for. This picture illuminates where I get my drinking tolerance - or lack thereof.

And to my sweet beautiful niece Kenzie Rae. Happy 4th Birthday peanut butter and jelly sandwich!

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.***