Nesting Mode is On!

It's been a while since I've peeked in to update you. 

We've had an amazing month of friends and family -- a wonderful baby shower (where it finally hit me that we're having a bebe!!!!!!), and so many wedding and baby announcements. Superman learned to swaddle and change a diaper in our birthing class, and my whole world changed in a way I can't quite explain.  

I secured a new writing contract which has pulled me in a new and exciting direction. I won another journalism award and immediately thought of how important it is for bebe to know that as a little lady she can do whatever she puts her mind to. She can have a career and raise a family and be happy -- after she learns to crawl and walk, that is. It won't be easy. It may require sacrificing date nights for three months, especially since a forgetful husband may not take initiative to pick up the slack of decisive planning and execution. But she can be a woman who's got her own "thang" and can manage to pick herself up from her bootstraps when things aren't quite perfect. She can be the opposite of dependent.   

Every day last month, I couldn't help but think of how the day would be different once bebe is around. Our house is not clean enough. Our nursery still looks like an office no matter how hard we've tried to revamp (mainly because our furniture hasn't arrived). We're working over-over-time to be able to afford those diapers. More than once, we've (seriously) discussed private school and college options for bebe. Mind you, she's still breathing amniotic fluid.  

In short: 

We're in nesting mode. Big time. 

I have never before experienced this feeling of "I can't wait" and "I can wait" at the same time. For instance -- I can wait for labor pains. I can't wait for bebe.

Once the rest of our furniture arrives -- which has been promised to us in a few weeks -- I think we'll be good and ready.

As for the labor part. Well, I've got to buck up (maybe on meds). A girl can't be pregnito forever. (Thank goodness!)

Back to Normal

After a month of living in sunny 80 degree weather, Superman was greeted back home with a snowstorm.

He ignored all signs of a Nor'easter and took a hose to his precious lawn. Only to have it freeze over.

He shoveled and salted the whole driveway.

He took one look in the refrigerator and pitched and restocked.

He took one trip to the bathroom and grabbed the cleaning brush.

He changed the flat tire and installed a new battery so the car would start.

Then he mentioned that in his phone favorites, I've moved up the list to number one on his "most called." Even surpassed the military and the Blue. This won't last for long since we'll actually see each other, which is just fine by me.

I say, everything is the way it should be again!

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.

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.  

Makeover - Step 1

This. Is bebe's room. I kid. Well, sort of. Fitting that the workaholics choose the baby space to be where the office is... 

We'd been looking for the best way to furnish this space since we moved in. It's the only room in our house that we haven't really "furnished" the way a house should be. At first, it housed moving boxes. Then it housed a good friend in need of a place. Then it housed desks. Then it housed a mess. What were we going to do with this space? 

I think bebe answered that question for us. 

I'll document the makeover, since -- by the plans we have in our mind -- it's going to be epic. 

We've already started. The walls used to be cream colored. Although you can't really tell from this photo, it's now a light pistachio.Step 1. CHECK!  I absolutely love the contrast that the light green has with the dark wood. And the light green color can stay long after we've moved out and rented the place to others... 

Plus, it makes Superman happy. Soon enough he'll be outnumbered by females in the household (me, Gatto, Bebe...), that I can't imagine what it would be like if he had to also come home to pink walls every day. My guess is he'd probably sleep with his military uniform on and start eating MREs again, maybe even lock himself up in the VFW and talk war stories... Okay, let's not even let our mind take us there.  

It's a win-win. 

Next up: A rug for the room. I already have the perfect one in mind... 

Home(not so be-)coming

Warning: I'm about to make a sweeping generalization about civilians...

When civilians hear 'military', they either think deployment, or homecoming.  And while I try so hard to give you all a glimpse of the in-between's, I'm going to feed right into this generalization and chat about homecoming -- in a not so banal way. Whether it's a full-on deployment or a "mini"-deployment, here are my homecoming words of wisdom about I have learned first-hand along the way:

1. Ditch any idea you had in your deployment-mode mind that your legs will always be perfectly shaven.

You probably have this picture in your mind of a stunning well-kept classy woman running to the arms of her man. Yes. That happens. But that being well-kept, is well-hard-to-do with a man always in your territory. Long gone will be the days of hour long pampering events. Next time we'll keep it up! we say. But let's face the facts. Those minutes will be replaced by keeping up with the ever-dwindling food supply at home, since there's now a Yogi Bear occupying your space.

2. Being a full household again will be filled with even more amazing moments than you ever imagined and it'll make you want to do something "the hills are alive"-esque. It will also be a complete disappointment filled with its share of embarrassing meltdowns. There will be no in-between.

You probably have this picture in your mind of a stunning well-kept classy woman running to the arms of her man. Yes. That happens. But emotions and expectations are so high that when you're happy, it's like the whole world is bowing down to you. And when you're mad, then good Lord people watch out because it's about to rain on your heads. As much as we all try, there's really no smooth comfortable transitioning back to normalcy. At least not at first. Think PMS to Nth degree. Duration varies. For me, it's about 3 weeks.

3.  Accept the fact that household-appropriate four-letter words like "shop"(ping) will be substituted with "other" four-letter words that, before you know it, will become temporarily household-appropriate. (I can't believe I just said that).

You probably have this picture in your mind of a stunning well-kept classy woman running to the arms of her man. Yes. That happens. But even for the classy brood, those three weeks of rollercoaster PMS cannot be complete without a temporary vocabulary toolbox. There are some things from the military you want to take home with you, like... well, I can't think of anything at the moment. There are others, like the soldier-to-soldier talk, that has to be conditioned out of Superman. That is, if I don't catch it myself. We get poopy mouths. And it gets bad, people. Sometimes it even slips into phone conversations with my own mother. Duration varies.

F-bombs away, B***s.

Home

Tonight I'm sitting on our bed, writing my weekly column. The bedroom has a dim glow from our lamps that now have a home on our brand new side tables. I hate overhead lighting and for the first time since moving in, I don't have to turn it on.

Today, I comfortably worked from home in my office, finished all my errands, cleaned, wrote a column.

Superman worked his magic on the kitchen tile, put on his blue, and went off into the night.

The bedroom is new. The kitchen is new. Being "married-married" is new.

This morning, Superman crept into my office while I was staring at a blank Word document, wondering whether I was really going to write something worth reading, or even have the brains to write anything at all (the usual feeling of a writer). He sat next to me in my chair, held down the SHIFT key and typed this:

:) 

And now, more than ever before I feel at home. The lease doesn't end. The movers aren't coming. The deployment is over. There are no life-altering dates to look forward to, or to not look forward to. We're high on family and friends.

This is home.

Food? Yes? No?

I'm contemplating whether it's a good idea to go grocery shopping right now when our kitchen looks like this: 

Oh. Did I neglect to mention we have 30+ people coming over next weekend for a BBQ? 

I've been on a business trip these last few days so I haven't seen this yet. But today, I came home to it. Superman hasn't been home yet to witness, how do I say... "l'attaque panique."

You'll find me in the living room. *breathe* The only room currently not under reno/deco-vation. *breathe* All doors closed. *breathe* Watching 60 Minutes. *breathe* Followed by Dateline. *breathe*  

Thank the Lord for newsmagazine shows. 

Starting Over

Confession of a city girl turned burb wifey -- owning a home is amazing. 

The Super household is undergoing a massive home decor overhaul. I get to use my fashion/decor sense, and Superman gets to use his big man tools. The best part is we can do whatever our big hearts desire to the place, because it's OURS. So that's just what we've been doing. 

Sometimes, you have to go the distance to make the house fabu. 

Even if it means looking like Flavah Flav...

Driven

Lately, I've been doing less of this... 

ZZZZzzzzzzzzzzz...........

And more of this... 

That's me - working. And contrary to popular belief, it feels good to say that. Because when I knew I had to leave the Apple, I had no idea what the future would hold for me. I was scared I would have to give up one of my loves. 

But I didn't. 

I admit that it hasn't been easy. I've had to work harder to prove myself; and starting at a new company has made it seems like I'm starting over... but I knew all of this. Moving meant I accepted the challenge. I have never worked harder in my life. 

I'm in love with my career; I'm in love with Superman's career; I'm in love with our home, I'm in love with having Superman home; I'm in love with our friends and family and our life...

All Grown Up!

Today, Gatto graduated from kitten to adult cat food.

I'm convinced this feeling is the pet equivalent of your baby taking her first steps while husband is deployed.

Our Gatito is all grown up!!

Nostalgia

Last night I thought about the day we signed the papers for our first home. I remembered how I could see Superman's eyes smile through his motorcycle helmet. I remembered that even though it was a freezing cold December evening, we strapped our motorcycle jackets on and rode like bandits to our real estate agent's office... a little faster than we should have.

I remembered how excited we were to sign page one of a nearly 300 page contract to our home. I remembered that we weren't married yet, so we had to be "business partners." 

I remembered that the excitement began to wear off by the time we got to signing our 200th page, and we just wanted those dang keys. 

I remembered being carried into our home for the first time and really truly understanding what it meant to love someone. What it meant to work so hard toward a dream together and to see that dream come true. 

We were so incredibly happy I don't think we even slept that night. Life seemed so simple then.

  

 I remembered all of this because these past few weeks I've been calling our mailman incessantly. We still own the home but we don't live there full-time -- the mailman thought that we don't own it anymore and had been returning our mail to the senders. That's what happens when you live in a small town and everyone knows everyone.

Last night, when I found out that some holiday cards sent to our home had been returned to our family, I got really upset and called the mailman. Twice.

In reality, I wasn't as upset as I should have been about the mail or the mailman. I was upset because I felt like our home was being taken away from us. It's hard enough that Superman isn't around our current Apple home. But now I feel like I'm trying to protect two homes at once and make sure that both forts are secure. And whenever one thing gets fixed, another thing breaks.

I also thought about life after this mini-deployment. Will it ever get back to being as simple as it was?

Our Newest Addition

One trip to Kusadasi, Turkey, a handwoven carpet presentation, and a convincing seller later...

We are now proud owners of this:

Dear Apple, meet Turkey.

A new carpet -- made from natural lamb's wool (no artificial dyes that you normally see on Turkish carpets). This is our first purchase of a carpet. Growing up, there wasn't an inch of ground in my house that wasn't covered with beautiful carpentry. So you can imagine that this is a huge deal for me and my family.  Now, I think Superman has caught the "carpet bug," since he says he doesn't want to stop there...

We've been saving a little place for it, right beside our bed. And it finally just arrived from Turkey! 

I am not a fan of hardwood floors (at all!!!!) so this is a Godsend.

To me, home is squishing my feet in softness.