i am le tired

i haven't been around much lately. probably because bella has adopted a new wake up time of 5am. and that is becoming increasingly earlier, each day. this morning, she was up at 4. while i appreciate her desire to spend more time with her mommy, i could really use more than a few hours of sleep.

sure, part of the problem is that i'm not going to sleep until midnight. but really, i blame joel for that. i never can sleep when he is travelling.

so instead of blogging (or cleaning, or packing, or organizing, or eating) while she takes her naps, i sleep. and then wake up groggy, and let her nurse while i catch a few more minutes. and then let her play in her room, while i lay on the floor, half awake.

i feel like she is a newborn again, only worse, because while i am laying there on the ground she is walking on me, screaming and pulling my hair.

i HAVE stuff to say. but i am too tired to get on the computer to say what i want. so i slowly start feeling like i'm mildly schizophrenic, listening to the rambling "mom"ologue in my head.

even more, i don't have time to READ my favorite blogs. unless i get them in e-mail, because then i can read them laying in bed, with one eye open, off of my phone, when i am trying to fall back asleep after futilely convincing my almost 10 month old that playing in her room at 4am is NOT appropriate.

even after all of that complaining, i look at her, waddling around the living room, "tra-la-la"ing with her little sing songy voice, and i can't help but be overwhelmed by how blessed i am.

either she is that adorable, or i am slowly losing my mind.

in the ghetTO (the ghettooooo)

i hate stealers (not THE stealers. people who are stealers. otherwise known as thief's.). i know, mamaw, hate IS a strong word. in this case, it isn't strong enough.

there is something about knowing that someone has been in your car, touching your things, TAKING the things that your hard earned money bought, violating your personal space, that really boils my blood.

if you are in need of something, i have no problem helping you out. my husband and i have been richly blessed and we like to help others as much as we can. 

this morning, we were on our way out to go deliver meals through meals on wheels. we were making room in the trunk, moving the baby's stroller over to our explorer when we noticed the dash had been RIPPED OUT. 

there were wires sticking out all over the place, shoddily snipped. the stereo was missing and the facade of the dash was hanging on by one screw. the doors had been locked, but the windows cracked since it gets as hot as hades here. this was undoubtedly the thiefs point of entry. jerks.

it's not the radio. that is a material thing that can be replaced. it's my ruined faith in man kind. and now i believe that i live in the ghetto. i always thought that, but now, i believe it. i blame joel. he picked this place. for 1/3 the price and double the space of our condo in hawaii, he saw this place as the taj mahal. his vision was skewed. i guess i can forgive him.

really, this is a blessing in disguise. because that means I will be making all of the big decisions for the foreseeable future.

now, when do we leave this arm pit? (ok, that was harsh. i'll regret that when i'm not mad anymore. maybe. probably not. i just don't want to offend anyone. well.......when do we leave again?) 

blame it on the cows

babies are great for adding humor to an otherwise not humorous situation. take this week for example.

we got home from the beach last saturday, and spent saturday and sunday with my dad, step mom and niece, who so graciously drove into town for the night so they could see bella. we took the babies to the playground, went to eat, took them to another playground, took walks. the babies played and had a good time.

monday and tuesday were business as usual and joel returned to work. tuesday evening, we got the call that joel's grandfather passed away. while we were in hawaii, joel's grandmother passed, and he wasn't able to make it to the funeral, so he wanted to be sure to make it to his grandfather's. it would be a quick trip, but we packed up the car, drove 10 hours up, stayed less than 24 hours and turned around. on the day of the funeral, joel got a call that his other grandmother passed away that morning. we got back on friday, and on sunday, he will drive up to charlotte for the memorial service, coming back sunday night.

when it rains it pours.

before i get into the funny part of this story (yes, there actually is one), let me say, joel's grandpa (his fathers father) was a pretty amazing man. sitting around before and after the funeral, i heard stories of his time fighting in world war 2. in the army, he fought in 3 countries, proudly serving his, during one of the most devastating wars we have known. they didn't have much money, but he sent every penny he made home to his wife. when all was said and done, they had 11 children, losing one in childbirth. he lived humbly, but worked hard all his life.

joel's grandma (his mothers mother) was a strong woman. the wife of a preacher, she raised 6 children. she had a stroke in the early 2000's and made a very strong recovery. she was a sweet woman. i have only known her since her stroke, but from what i hear of her before, she was pretty formidable. i know that she will be greatly missed.

both had a lasting legacy of children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, and on the day of his death, joel's grandpa became a great-great grandpa.

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**warning. this part of the post contains pictures that are not for the weak stomached. read at your own risk. seriously. i warned you**

time for funny. because, with a kid like mine, there isn't a dull moment. it's true.

as you know (or maybe you don't) i have made all of bella's food since she was a week shy of 6 months. i've been lucky to be able to stay at home with her, and have made it a point to make or prepare everything she eats.

vacations have been no exception. but this weekend, i made the executive decision to just buy some jars and feed her that, because it would be too hard to make or find food that was suitable for her to eat on the road.

thursday morning, we get up and get ready for the funeral. joel's extended family live in the country. they live in kentucky on rolling hills and farm land, and it's beautiful. but, with farm land comes livestock, and whoever said country air smells good may have had a deviated septum. or a nose filter. driving through the country to get to the town for the funeral, we drove through an area that reeked to high heavens. both of us were gagging and making funny faces while rolling down the windows and gasping for air. the smell didn't really fade much until we got into the town. we stopped at a gas station so i could get some coffee (no starbucks in the country, you know) and when i came back, joel looked at me sheepishly and said, "uh, i think we may have a problem with bella".

i walk around the car to the car seat, peer in through the rolled down window and i see it. the culprit of the stench we had blamed on the poor pigs, cows and chickens. poo. and not just normal poo. lots and lots of it. puddled around her legs. splattered around her feet. on her hands. in her hair. on her face. i'm not even sure how it got everywhere, because it looked like she had rolled around and splashed in it. keep in mind, she was buckled into her car seat, so this scenario is highly unlikely. nonetheless, she is covered from head to toe, and the smell is unbearable. and she is sleeping peacefully.

we clean her off, and now sit through the funeral, joel in a suit and tie, me in a nice dress, and our baby, practically nekked. it looked like we just picked up a homeless kid off the side of the road and brought her with us. the impromptu bath in the sink didn't do much good, and i can still smell her.

and of course, people want to hold her. and carry her around. people are carrying my stinky, poop baby around with them. i was mortified.

we get home, get her changed and bathed, and most of the rest of the evening goes off without a hitch. until i sat her down for dinner and noticed she was a little....stinky. again. i take off her pants and sure enough, poo. all over her. up her tummy, up her back, down her legs. all over.

here's where i have to step in. we have cloth diapered her since 6 weeks and have NEVER had even the slightest smidge of a leak. not once. no explosions, no dribbles. nothing. until now. but this isn't a little bit, either. this is like, full on biological warfare type poo. filled the diaper and left puddles on the floor, type poo. i actually threw away one of her diapers, and if you know about cloth diapers, you know they aren't super duper cheap. but i wasn't even trying to salvage this one. that's how bad it was.

i washed her car seat, her clothes, her diapers, and any other piece of material that may have possibly come into contact with her, and pack her up. saturday morning, we leave and our 10 hour trip becomes a constant, "::sniif, sniff:: you smell that!? again!?" pull over, change the baby, wipe down all surfaces with our new bff-lysol wipes, get in the car and drive. rinse, repeat.

my only consolation from this is, while i was cleaning her up at the funueral home, joel (who is gagging and almost puking at the front of the car) says to me, "you are a strong woman. i could never do what you do". that made it all worth it.

letter to my husband.

dear joel.

i love being your wife. i really do. we have fun, we have adventures, we work well together. we fit. i love you, you love me.

now. that said, we need to talk.

your ABU pants have about 30 pockets in them. your blouse? somewhere in the ballpark of 15. i try to get everything out of them, your wallet, your keys, your phone, all the loose change, your papers that have been meticulously folded in the shape of little footballs, the 2 pens in your back pocket, the pen in your front pocket, the pencil and sharpie in your right breast pocket. i thought i got it all. but i missed that little mini pen in your LEFT breast pocket. curse that blouse, with it's special pen holder. i mean, heaven forbid you put all your pens in the same pocket.

because now, i have ink all over my favorite shirt. all over my big plushy beach towel built for 2. all over my unmentionables. all. over. my . DRYER. so when i threw the NEXT load of laundry in the dryer, they got all inky too. and what was that load full of? diapers. that's right my sweet husband. those fluffy little poop catchers that go on your baby's booty.

i'm not saying it's your fault. no. not at all. i just need a little heads up if you want to play scavenger hunt with your writing utensils. maybe just a number. "honey, there will be 10 pens in my pockets today, and one will be in a super secret place!" just a couple of clues, or maybe some hints worked into the other pens.

or even better, we don't HAVE to play games. you could just empty all of your pockets before you plop your pants into the hamper. i really wouldn't mind sitting the next game out.

i love games. i do. but let's table this one, for now. maybe revisit it.......well.....i don't ever want to play it again, if you don't mind. my clothes will thanks you.

smoochies.

me.

wonky wednesday. wait, is it wednesday? it is? ok. good.

why does my seedless watermelon have seeds? and why is it soggy? i haven't had watermelon in a long time, but i don't remember it being soggy.

while we're talking about ridiculous things, why do i ask my 7 month old, "what's wrong?". and i think i legitimately expect her to answer. i mean, she is in the living room playing, i'm cooking dinner. she starts to fuss. i say, "what's wrong, baby?" and keep cooking, waiting, in vain, for a response. she whines a little more, and i repeat, with a little more emphasis, "what is wrong?".

and why don't grocery store baggers know how to put my stuff in my reusable bags? you see that big silver one? the one with the giant words on the side, "FREEZER BAG". and you see all that cold stuff on the belt, grouped so conveniently together? yeah? then why did you put those in a plastic bag? and why do i even BRING my bags, if you are just going to pack my stuff in a plastic bag, and THEN in my bag?

one more thing. why, little miss lola, do i take you outside and let you poo, only to find 20 minutes later, that you have left me another present? in the hallway.

that is all. the oil in the gulf must be seeping in to the water supply around here. maybe i should change my filter........

my kid will beat up your kid.

today was bella's {read, mommy's} first play group! a group of spouses from the base, at jumpin jax. i don't know why i waited so long to do this.

well, this might have something to do with it.

my kid's a biter. i think she bit like 3 kids? ::hangs head in shame::

i mean, how do you teach an almost 7 month old (what!? when did that happen?) that biting is not ok? each time she did it, i would say, "no bite! not nice!" very sternly, and she would look at me, like this.

because she is rotten.

i am going to have my hands full for, like....the rest of my life.

next play group? well, let's just say it should involve copious amounts of wine, and be scheduled for after bella's bedtime.

stick figure saturday: poop!

i just learned about this fun thing that ericka over at alabaster cow does, called stick figure saturday. i love stick figures. i used to make them all the time at work, ehem....i mean...at....home.

none of those people read this blog so what do i care. i made them of people climbing palm trees,drowning in the deep end (while the slacker out there snoozed), and pooping in the pool. which seems to be a common trend in my life. the "poop" part, not the "in the pool" part. well. you'll see.

so this was my house at 1 am. and again at 3 am. oh, and again at 5 am. last night.

baby screaming. dog hacking. daddy sleeping. mommy....WIDE.AWAKE. this morning, daddy asked mommy, did you get up last night? he commonly asks me this. like "wow, i slept so well last night, nothing could have POSSIBLY happened!" but, my dear, lots happened last night. the new dog hocked up a lung. your baby cut another tooth. the old dog wiggled his way up to my face, at which point he decided to rip one. uh huh. i know, that is so gross. but IT HAPPENED! i mean, i can't hide the truth. so when daddy wakes up and asks mommy did she wake up, i want to give him the "devil-is-coming-out-of-my-face" face. instead, i give him a grumpy, "grrrrYES!"

then, i get out of bed, change baby's diaper (poop. lots of it.), then go to the laundry room to toss her diaper in the pail, when i smell...well.....more poop. and not "sweet baby ate carrots and peaches" poop. more like, "rescue dog ate death" poop.

yep. i was right. all over my living room floor. twice. and one was more puddly than poopy. and guess what daddy says to mommy. "man that sucks. you gonna clean it up?" to which i respond, "your turn!" and he runs out of the room gagging. saying "i just can't".

in his defense, he offered to do anything i wanted and take me out for breakfast. but then he just made breakfast. which was really good. whatever. i still had to pick up runny poop. and now i have to clean up from breakfast.

how i spent my summer vacation. the final installment

day 3. remember how i said that the final day couldn't get worse? uh huh. and i promised i would eat my words. because i am really hungry. OBVIOUSLY.

we wake up, and after sleeping on cots AND a thermarest, i actually got a wonderful nights sleep. i woke up to the birds chirping and slept in until 8:30!! that never happens. i never get to sleep in at home, so the fact that i got to sleep in and then get up and drink coffee while the baby continued to sleep, meant that this was going to be the best day ever.

we decided to pack up before it got hot so that we could sit around and relax afterwards. we start folding chairs, and tarps, when the ants start biting. i got 6 on one foot, 4 on the other, 4 on my chest, and on my tush. fire ants in georgia are, in a word, ruthless (monday night, my foot was swollen so much, that i couldn't bend my ankle).

by the time we're packed, it's about 10:30 and we just decide it's time to go. we enjoyed our trip, but i think we were all ready to get outta dodge and get to our a/c and showers we didn't have to wear shoes in to, especially since now i can't put my shoes on.

last time joel and i camped on this lake, we wandered into augusta and found a shane's bbq. this was our plan today, too. after packing the cars, we would head into town for lunch before making our way back home. we were the last to leave and rather than take more time taking a shower, joel decided to go jump in the lake to cool off. he came back, toweled off outside of the car and then got in.

we get all the way to shane's and......well......here's where it gets dicey. we pull into the parking lot, and start looking for joel's shirt and wallet. our car is, like, a mess, so it's frustrating trying to find anything in there, but he KNOWS for a fact that his wallet and shirt were on his seat when he got in the car.

yes, they were in his seat when he grabbed his towel. he opened the door, then put his wallet in his shirt. then put his shirt on the roof. then toweled off. then.......crap.................

remember when joel put the camera on top of the car? and i drove around for 40 minutes with it up there, wondering where the camera went? and then i found it wedged in between the roof and the roof rack? well, this isn't like that time. this time, the shirt and the wallet were NOT stuck between the roof and the roof rack. or anywhere else in or on our car, for that matter.

we turned around and flew back towards the site in silence. i knew the minute either of us started talking, it wasn't going to be pretty. we get back to the campground and both get out and scour the site. when we don't find it there, we drive slowly down the road sweeping back and forth, hoping to see a dirt colored shirt, or a more dirt colored wallet. about halfway down the small road leading to the campground, i see his shirt in the grass!! i pull over and joel leaps out of the car. he pops back up in the window a few seconds later, showing me the shirt, holding it up by the shoulders. now, i could care less about this stupid shirt, which is why the grin on his face makes me want to slap him. there is no wallet. just his ugly, brown t-shirt. so he climbs back in and we keep going.

at this point, i assume the wallet has been picked up, and someone is having a good time at the corner store buying $4 fuzzy navels. but we keep looking anyway.

about 1/2 a mile down the road, i think i see it and slam on the brakes and swerve off the road. joel gets out again, sprinting down the road. i watch in the rear view mirror as he bends over, picks the thing up, and then hangs his head and drops his shoulders. all i can think is that it's NOT actually his wallet.

he turns around and holds it up and informs me that it IS, in fact, his wallet, but there are no cards in it. we walk up and down the street, assuming someone took the cards and threw the empty wallet out the window.

but then, from the side of the road, we see the stack of cards, splayed out through the grass.

we gather up the cards, and get back in the car.

surprisingly, on the way home, we talked about how much fun the weekend was. yes, despite the rain, the wind, ant bites, more rain and lost wallet, we actually had a really good time. on the way home, we "debriefed" about how we could make the next trip better. um, how about we check the weather, spray for bugs and not put valuable things on the roof? or, better idea, how bout we go to a holiday inn. yeah. that sounds good to me.

speechless.......

there are no words......

(except the ones in captions. really, did you think i would TRULY not have anything to add?)

not for the faint of heart......

y'all remember this??

that was a bad day. the culmination of all the things i hadn't thought bothered me. mostly, a hormonal overreaction about how i feel like i have lost my autonomy, waaa, waa, waaa. BUT there was something else going on. yes, not all of my problems come from a single source.

i have a hard time compartmentalizing, and when a bunch of things go wrong in different arenas in my life, i lump them all together and just kind of freak out.

what on earth am i talking about, might you ask?

this.

if you don't know, about 4 years ago, we bought a condo in hawaii, COMPLETELY renovated it (like, floors, tub, toilet, all appliances.....everything), and lived in it for about 2 years, the market tanked, we lost a LOT of equity, and then got orders to move to georgia. so we rented it out.

that was the easy part. since then, it's been a bit of a nightmare, balancing living so far away (a 10 hour plane ride, 6 hours time difference, across the continent AND the pacific. you get it. it's far), having a new baby, and dealing with life in a new place, PLUS being LANDLORDS (what an ugly word, am i right??). in april, by some divine intervention, we decided to get a management company, to take some of the stress out of it. i call it a divine intervention because a month later, this happened.

the main line into the house backed up with sewage, and FLOODED the whole condo. with poop.

that's our hallway. joel, the craftsman that he is, mitered those corners and laid that floor himself. we actually did ALL off the work ourselves, which kind of makes this even more devastating.

this WAS our guest room. the floor swelled and bowed from all the "moisture", aka poo water.

by the way, has anyone ever tried dealing with a home owner's association? what about HOA insurance? and, by the way, did i mention the 6 hour time difference? yeah. it's been a fun month or so. fortunately, we have AMAZING insurance, and an awesome property manager, or else i really might have lost my mind.