Structure

A slew of new endeavors in my life has forced me to realize (and act on) the fact that I need to structure my time. I'm juggling four jobs and two new big Big BIG projects and I've been learning the hard way that doing everything all at once isn't going to work. I need to carve out time and devote that time to one thing and nothing else.

I'm glad that bebe is still in the pouch while we're learning this lesson. Right now, she's quiet and goes wherever I go. But in a few months, that won't be the case. That's why I've got to hunker down and create some structure.

Every parenting book talks about the importance of structure for a baby. The more a baby knows what to expect and when to expect it, the less fussy baby will be, and the easier our lives will become.

Let me tell you -- if it wasn't for bebe, I would brush off the idea of structure and just focus on trying to keep all the balls in the air at once, even if it kills me.

I think having bebe in our life has really taught us the importance of creating structure, respecting time, and sometimes saying 'no.' That's saying A LOT for the Super couple who does everything, all the time, every day, no matter what.

Today, I was scheduled to work 16 hours. Normally I don't quantify the hours spent working, or really talk about what I do "negatively", because I love every minute of it. But forget the part about working. Here's the bigger picture. Those 16 hours comes after working 6 days straight, oftentimes on up to 6 different projects.

• The only sun I see is from an office window. Don't ask me about my vitamin D levels. 

• Superman decided to have the landscaper put a new lawn in. All I see is a new green whoosh as I'm either leaving or coming home. Now he's having heart palpitations because our untended-to lawn is dying. 

(Superman has clearly violated soldier handbook rule #4897345789 - "Do NOT start a big project that you cannot complete prior to leaving your spouse for a long time, expecting her to clean up after your mistake... the woman has a life ya know. And it doesn't revolve around going down YOUR to-do list during every phone conversation. Show your household commander-in-chief some respect. Ya Rookie.")

• I live on peanut butter and cream cheese and cereal. The most extensive cooking I've done has been turning the knob on the oven and sticking some leftovers in there. Don't ask about that one time I left the knob turned even though there wasn't any food in the oven. Don't ask for how long it was left turned on. 

• Don't even ask me how many days in a row I've worn the same pair of socks. Don't ask me where all of Superman's socks have gone even though he hasn't been home for a month. 

Today, for the first time, I said 'no' to the scheduled 16 hours. I don't feel as guilty as I thought I would.

So thank you bebe! Thank you for coming into existence so we can learn to structure and simplify!  You may just turn me into a over employed, vitamin D enriched, full meal cooking, laundry doing superwoman who does it all in its structured and scheduled time. Let's hope. Or this is going to be a long 18 years.

Deployments & Giving Birth

While I didn't know it then, I know now that nothing has better prepared me to give birth than going through a deployment.

Why's that? Well, nothing I explain can say it better than this post over at Household 6 Diva. So enjoy reading her insights!

Wearing my heart on my Pinterest board

It's not so difficult nowadays to know what's on someone's mind. All you have to do is check out what they've been pinning lately on Pinterest.

Although Superman defines Pinterest as a whole bunch of random STUFF that threw up on a website, I tell him that only multitasking overthinking women like me know that there's a method to the madness.

A few months ago, all I could pin about was home renovation ideas. Now that we've OFFICIALLY entered our nesting phase (more on that another time), it's all Bebe. 

I don't consider myself crafty, or a DIY expert. I've done a little, but nothing to brag (or blog) about. Besides, that's what Superman is here for. I point. He does. Sometimes he lets me hold a tool or two. But not the scary ones. 

Still, Pinterest stirs my imagination of all the fun things to do with Superman... even someday with Bebe... even some amazing party ideas for the future pregnitos in my life...

Admit it, ladies. You too wear your hearts on your Pinterest boards. 

In the works

I just returned from a week-long stay in Michigan visiting my parents. It was a much needed break from the hustle of daily life in the Bean, and has definitely shaved some days off from Superman's time away without me feeling it too much. My parents also appreciated seeing the bump and feeling Bebe kick for them for the first time. We even snuck into one of my dad's checkup rooms in between seeing patients, so one of his tech's could perform an ultrasound. I love being able to check in on Bebe every once in a while just to make sure she's behavin' in there.

Now that I'm back, there's a lot happening. A LOT. All good things.

Most of it is "in the works," so I won't count the eggs. But soon there will be more reasons to wake up earlier so I can take a few extra minutes to get polished for work. (Even though few and far between, my rolling-out-of-bed-look must now be sealed in everyone's repressive memory forever).

I know. I hate when people are vague, but lately I haven't been able to sit still long enough to make it all real here yet. But I will.

All I know is that I'm blessed. Blessed blessed blessed blessed blessed...

Soon, I will share the blessings with you.

My new favorite word(s)

So far, I have loved every minute of being pregnito. Trust me, I can say this because based on the stories I've heard from other women, I've had it really easy so far.

But there's one part I'm not looking forward to. I'm sure you can guess that part. I'll give you a big hint. It's the part when it's time for the pregnancy part to be over. I think you get it.

As a woman, I have every right to be scared, nervous, and to get those meds on speed dial.

As for Superman, he doesn't quite get my reservations. Come that fateful day in January when I'm squeezing the life out of his arm and yelling worse obscenities than all the boys in Southie, he'll get it. I'll make sure he gets it, real good.

One night before dinner he said to me, "But I thought you love baby!"

Honey, I love baby. I don't enjoy the daylong rough 'n tough process of bringing baby into this world.

There's a difference.

Later that night, we were flipping through a pregnancy magazine and I came across an article about an emerging trend where the husband gifts his wife with some serious postpartum bling. A thank you for nine months of her not being able to recognize her own body, and an additional I-love-you-so-much-for-pushing-baby-out-of-woo-woo. It's called a "push present."

Push Present. 

And there you have it. My new fave word.

This trend is familiar to me since in the Middle East husbands typically gift something shiny to their wives after baby is born. I don't think Superman took it seriously when I told him the tradition because.... this is the red white and blue, baby.

Well, the fact that we saw it in an American magazine as an emerging trend just sealed that traditional deal.

Face it, Superman. You cannot deny me the fruits of my labor.

The ideas are flowing... So, what are we thinking ladies??

Park it

I love our town for recognizing that I need a parking spot of my own. Granted, it's right next to the handicap spot... 

Still, my waddling self appreciates it. 

Word to the mothers (to-be). 

Gone

Superman left early this morning for a month-long military training. And I'm totally inconsolable.

A month in military family standard time is equivalent to a day or even less in civilian time. A walk in the park.

But for some reason, this time I've been feeling it harder.  (How did I do this for a six month period last time? Or even a year in a combat zone? What has happened to me?!)

Maybe it's because we've gotten used to seeing each other around (somewhat). Or maybe it's because of baby-related hormones. Or maybe it's that I've been feeling a sense of completeness lately with our little growing family...

I have a new found respect for women who go through an entire pregnancy, even babyhood, all while their husbands are deployed. You are all better women than I. Or perhaps you have more balanced progesterone levels...

The worst is that I've been feeling this way for weeks before today. Anxious, nervous, worried, fearful anticipation.

Oh military, you have a sneaky way of just knowing when things are going really good. That's when you figure it's best to throw a wrench in things. And you never forget to throw in that added punch of insomnia, just to put it all even a little more off balance.

As much as I'd love to just sleep away the days, I can't. I can't make us Army wives look weak...

That and seriously, I have some major work deadlines coming up that I can't just wallow away into MIA-hood.

But for the record, it never gets easier -- as much as I'd like to think and say it does.

One month. Here goes.

Happy Day Trip-aversary to Us!

Superman knows I have a soft spot for day trips. He has taken me in a WWII plane, beach hopping on a bike, a river cruise to an Oktoberfest... 

But that was all so long ago. Like some new bling, we were seriously overdue. 

Luckily, Superman gets it. And so off we went for a surprise day trip to a tiny town in southern Mass. 

He called this, the "October Surprise" haha! I'll take it. 

Scratch that

Remember a few days ago when I said all this? 

Well, scratch that. I take it back. Forget the idea of getting that bike back...

Yesterday I witnessed a motorcycle smash into the back of a car. The driver crashed through the back windshield. If I hadn't swerved, I would have sandwiched that motorcyclist in. This isn't the first time I'd seen a bike crash, but it was by far the most horrific as-it's-happening crash I had ever witnessed. I'm not sure what ended up happening to the motorcyclist, whether he lived or died. He really looked in bad shape. Half of his body flew right into the back seat of the car. The other half hung over the trunk of the car. The sound of his body pounding keeps replaying in my head. It shook me. Hard.

It was God's way of saying that we enjoyed that bike while it lasted. For me, that's now good enough.

An Old Stem, A New Leaf

Every year in my twenties has been completely than the year before. Different state, different job, different schools, different point in my relationship with Superman. Friendships have come and gone... 

But no life-changing year has been as radical thus far as the transition from Apple to Bean. 

Some days, I miss the Apple girl. I miss the rush and the attitude and the style of the city. 

And while a part of the Apple will always be with me, I can feel the Bean creeping its way in. 

For instance, in the Apple, if I saw a shady looking women yelling obscenities on the street, I would just walk by. She's shady. She's loud. She's in the Apple. So what. 

Last night, I saw a shady woman on a street corner close to my home and called 911. Even though she wasn't loud, she's a stranger and she's in my town. I was more scared of that than anything I had ever encountered in the Apple. Really. 

In the Apple, a weekly brunch date at a new spot was a must-do. Now, the only apple living I do is go apple picking at an orchard.

Don't get me wrong, I'm embracing the here and now. But I'm fighting to transform on my own terms. There are some things I just won't give up. And at the core, you can see I'm still an Appleite through and through... 

This photo is a bit old, but the sentiment lives. Maybe next year, I'll be in a completely different place in life, but today I say: 

Rock on, domestic diva. But don't let the comfort of the Bean suck the fun out of you.  

Here we go again...

Our military hiatus is over. 

Just when we had slipped into a routine of together and work and home and TV and relax and bed... the military has ordered Superman away for a month of training. 

Better now than when bebe's here, we say. 

Last time Superman was sent to this particular locale for training, I was sent the following picture of him: 

All I kept thinking to myself... besides, I HEART THIS VISION OF A MAN... is, I hope to hey-zeus he did not go out and get himself all of these toys. 

Because Army wives, we all know that when our husbands leave for prolonged periods of time, you can almost guarantee they'll get the toy itch. 

And you can bet your life that they'll scratch it. 

Luckily he only scratched one of those three itches. This: 

At first, I was nervous and scared of the dang thing. But soon enough it became a staple in our relationship --  an integral part of our dating adventure. We even featured it in our engagement photos. But in our quest for financial freedom before tying the knot, we sold it. That's when I realized how much I loved it. I think I cried more than Superman. I loved that bike and everything it stood for with all my heart. 

As long as I'd known Superman, he owned a bike, so seeing it go was like a losing half a person. He felt the loss too I'm sure, but not as hard as I did. 

Now, I've got the itch to get this toy back, and ironically Superman is not having any of it! It's certainly not the financial freedom this time. I think being a part of the Blue and seeing what these bikes can do to you when something goes wrong coupled with baby on the way has turned him into a no-thank-you. 

Nonsense! Let the record show that I want one. I want to ride all over town with one. I want to join in the bajillion motorcycle runs for charity and  be a raging motorcycle riding philanthropist. 

I'm just saying that if Superman decides he wants to scratch that itch at this locale again, I wouldn't be mad is all. 

Anniversary

Happy Anniversary to the man who would walk through fire -- and under swords -- for me. 

You squash spiders, even though I know how much you hate them. 

You make everything look better with some sweat, paint, and a hammer.

You don't take no for an answer, even if it's the easy way out. 

You may just be a bigger go-getter than me. I said "may," so don't jump to conclusions.

You make me believe I have it all, because I have everything I have ever wanted.

You make me feel safe. Not because of your wide array of weaponry and martial arts capabilities.  

You understand my unconditional love for Gatto. And secretly I know you love her just as much. 

You put a lid on all my crazy thoughts. I know, I'm a lot to handle. 

You're my baby daddy. Consider yourself lucky.    

You have given me everything. EVERYTHING. The funnest and happiest years of my life.

You give me so much to look forward to because the best is yet to come.